Don't argue with ordination boards (see above). Spend much time stuffing head with facts and figures related to obscenely difficult ancient languages, 1st century Palestinian history, and European religious thought from AD 300 to the present day. Remember to remain calm, courteous, pious, and filled with zeal for the Lord. Ordination committees really do know best, and they don't like running into prospective pastors at the nudie bar.
Should it come to competing for such a job, defer to the poor chump with a Ph.D. in South Asian languages. He needs it. Bad.
Alternate work hours between listening to elderly parishioners recount their adventures at the podiatrist and fighting with surly, intransigent board members.
Stifle screams.
Don't ask for a raise. They can't afford one.
Disregard thoughts of Mrs. Holcombe's insanely yappy dog. Mr. Toodles is not an appropriate sermon topic, even if the little bastard left a present in your office last week.
Hold down rising panic as you realize that Mr. Toodles is all you got. Do not search comic book collection for inspiration. If you are guest preaching at another congregation, start boning up on "Laughter Is The Best Medecine."
You're going to need it.
You're still not as cool as Kevin Spacey.
Frantically study texts, swearing to never leave preparation to the last minute, ever again.
Pause.
Laugh maniacally at self, knowing what a crock of shit this is.
Resume studying. Upon further reflection, the texts make even less sense that they did the first time, and Mr. Toodles is a true asshole, as far as dogs go.
Dope slap yourself. Mr. Toodles. Is. Not. Sermon. Material.
Capiche?
Also resist temptation to blame your current state on someone else. It's not the congregation's fault you're a lazy tool who didn't have the balls to hand in an application to a doctoral program.
Fall asleep, drooling on commentaries. Try to convince yourself that they are not soporifics in and of themselves.
Update [2005-8-6 21:47:22 by pastordan]:
Pretend you care about foot corns.