SAN ANTONIO - Like many long-married couples, Mary and Doug Earle have well-worn ways of expressing their mutual affection, small gestures so ingrained they've become second nature. An arm draped across a shoulder. A touch on the back. A quick kiss goodbye after meeting for lunch.

When they're both attired for business, this can get pretty interesting.

"We'll be dressed like this and Doug will absently rest his hand on my hip. All of a sudden I'll look up and somebody will be giving us a really strange look that says, `What is this?"' says Mary, rearing back to laugh.

She wears the identifying garments of an Episcopal priest, a black shirt and collar - and the same ones her spouse wears.

Life can be interesting indeed for clergy couples, whose numbers nationally are small but growing. Such parings share a spiritual calling along with the bond of matrimony.

And while the sight of two pastors kissing might jar some, mixing ordination with the yoke of marital life has proven a winning combo with clergy couples - if a challenging one at times.

Take, for instance, being the female half of a clerical duo. Sometimes people will assume she is the "wife of" the pastor, not a person of the cloth in her own right. Given the relatively recent phenomenon of female ordination within the history of religion, tradition-bound views can be dismissive of a woman in vestments, intentionally or not.

"I try to be gracious when that happens," says Karen Vannoy, one half of a Methodist clergy couple. "I consider the source. If it's an 80-year-old person, I ignore it. If it's someone we don't know, I ignore it. Otherwise I don't ignore it, because if it's going to make me angry at them it's better I say something."

Vannoy has been married for 12 years to the Rev. John Flowers. Together they are co-pastors at historic church downtown that specializes in outreach to the homeless and other marginalized people.

Being co-pastors - as opposed to, say, senior and associate pastor - is a designation the two consciously chose, in order to reflect the spirit of fairness and egalitarianism they bring to their joint ministry.

"Both of us so believe so strongly in the equality of men and women that to have any kind of hierarchy in our working relationship just wouldn't work," says Flowers.

The arrangement also suits the way they trade off their duties, alternating certain tasks each year so that both are adept at handling the full range of responsibilities that goes with leading a large congregation. (They also alternate sermonizing on Sundays.)

Flowers and Vannoy are both intensely passionate people and consummate preachers. The two often tease and rib each other, even in the pulpit, a "realness" that makes them more accessible to churchgoers, they say. His passion is for "unconditional love and justice in action." Vannoy has a special focus on women's issues and women in the church.

He tends to be more playful and spontaneous; she is the more organized and serious one.

"When the youth minister wanted to let the kids drop pumpkins off the roof of the church, you can guess who he went to," Vannoy says.

Like other clergy couples, the two find they have to draw a boundary line between their personal lives and their work, the latter of which can be all-consuming.

"Sometimes it's just shutting up about the church at 10 o'clock at night," he says. "It's just saying, `OK, we're not going to talk about church anymore."'

Otherwise, she says, "you could just talk about it all the time."

Flowers and Vannoy served at different churches before their current one.

They've found they need to stay in close touch in jobs that often physically pull them apart, and so they meet for breakfast regularly to talk over things happening in the church and to share notes.

"It's really important that we be of the same mind," she says. "We've learned that we've got to be on the same page and completely and totally supportive of one another."

"We have to present a unified front," he says.

Working at the same church means plenty of togetherness. In contrast, the Earles spend almost every Sunday apart. He's the rector at one Episcopal church; she holds a part-time position as assistant pastor at another.

Married since 1971, the couple's marriage vows predate their priestly ones. They both discovered their respective callings while participating in an in-depth Bible study class.

Being in the same spiritual field adds a richness and synergy to their lives, they say.

"One of the good things after all this time is that we do have these ongoing inside jokes and theological discussions," says Mary Earle, who also teaches at a seminary in Austin and writes books. "It's the same as if you're two doctors or two lawyers married to each other, I guess."

There's another added benefit, says Doug Earle.

"If it's Saturday night and I don't have a sermon for Sunday or even an idea, there's someone just down the hall who might jump-start me," he says, smiling.