Pastor Tommy's Blog
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Training
The other day I was listening to a podcast and the speaker said something I guess I already knew, but in a way that really brought the point home. He said that everything we do, think, say, or experience is a spiritual practice. Think about that.
Now, here’s what I think he meant. First, we are fundamentally spiritual beings. We are eternal. This life is like a spiritual training ground, preparing us for the eternity that comes after. And what that means is that everything we do, say, think, or experience in this life is training for our eternity. Everything we do, say, think, or experience is spiritual training.And we, as creatures uniquely endowed with free will, get to choose what that training looks like. We can choose a training program that prepares us for an eternal life without God, or one that conditions us to crave God’s presence. We can choose a program that makes me the master of my universe, or a program that recognizes God as the master.I have a tendency to think of “spiritual practices” as a discrete set of things I do to get close to God. But I’m beginning to understand that spiritual practices encompass much, much more. In fact, every moment of every day of our lives is a “spiritual practice.” Every moment of every day is either conforming us more into the image of Christ, or doing the opposite. Everything, from the shows we watch, to the books we read, to the company we keep, to how we approach our jobs and families, to how we fill those unexpected, unstructured moments, is a spiritual practice; a practice through which we are training ourselves for how we’re going to spend eternity.So, how’s your training going? -
Body, Mind, Spirit - April 23, 2026
Last Saturday I watched my son Jack complete the Houston Iron Man Triathlon. He swam 2.4 miles, biked 112 miles, and ran a 26.2 mile marathon. Back to back. I am so proud of him.
And as I watched him swim and bike and run, I was just in awe. I couldn’t imagine myself in his shoes, and didn’t want to. But I was also in awe of the rest of the competitors. Almost 3,000 people participated in this event. The professional athletes from around the world were incredible. But everyone else was too. There was one guy who brought his disabled friend with him over the entire course, first in a kayak, then in a bike trailer, then in a modified racing stroller. And then there was “Ed,” whom we saw several times over the course, who was in his late 70s.Now, for Jack, it’s not like doing an Iron Man was his lifelong dream or anything. Actually, about 7 months ago he just decided to do one. And then, for the next 7 months, he trained. He described the training as a second job. It seemed like every moment he wasn’t eating, working, or sleeping, he was training.And I’m sure that’s how it was for the rest of Saturday’s participants. I can’t get my head around the dedication and the time they must have put in to enable them to finish that race. But they did it. And now each of them has not only a tremendous sense of accomplishment, but also a very expensive belt buckle.As I sit here thinking about that race, I’m a little convicted. Each of the race participants probably averaged 15 to 20 hours of training a week, on the low end. Day in day out. Week in week out. Month after month. All that for a belt buckle.Yet I don’t put in anything close to that kind of time to work on something waaaaaay more important: my spiritual life in God. If I put in an hour a day in prayer and meditation, I feel like a spiritual rock star. If I direct my thoughts and attention to God even 10% of my day, I feel like that’s a good day’s work. If I do a few service projects a month, I feel like God’s gift to the world. Yet all of that combined doesn’t even approach what those triathletes were willing to do for a belt buckle.Of course, it isn’t either/or. We shouldn’t have to choose whether to take care of the body or take care of the spirit. We’ve all got to find a way to balance looking after our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. The key is to dedicate meaningful and productive time to all 3. Which, with the ever-accelerating pace of our world can be difficult. But Jack and all those other triathletes remind us, or at least me, that it is possible. We make time for what’s important. So, what’s important to you?Today, I pray God will help direct my eyes and yours, my hands and yours, my mind and yours, more and more to Him, the one from whom our true life comes. -
Keeping up with the Joneses - April 16, 2026
A few weeks ago, I was listening in on Kirsten’s weekly video call with our daughter Caitlin. Actually, I really wasn’t paying much attention until I heard Caitlin say, “… but y’all are our Joneses.”
Now, I’m sure you know about keeping up with the Joneses. It’s the idea instilled in us by the culture that to be productive members of society, we’ve got to acquire and consume all the stuff the folks around us are acquiring and consuming, or we’ll get left behind.So, I guess Kirsten had told Caitlin that she and her husband Will are our “Joneses.” Which I get. They do have really cool stuff.But then Caitlin said we were their Joneses. Which I don’t get. Our stuff is way less cool.But isn’t that the way it usually works? We run faster and faster on the treadmill of success, trying to keep up with Mr. & Mrs. Jones, while they’re doing the same trying to keep up with us. It’s a little insane if you think too hard about it. Unless, of course, you’re the one selling the stuff we’re buying in our attempt to keep up.This last Sunday I preached on self-condemnation. One of my points was that in our culture (and probably most human cultures), our identity, value, and meaning are determined by comparison. To be worthwhile, valuable, and lovable, you’ve got to be better than someone else. And, for reasons lost in the mists of time, those people are always named Jones.But here’s the reality. The Joneses do not determine who we are. The Joneses are just random people. They may be Facebook influencers, or folks who live down the street, or our closest relatives. But they’re just people; fellow human beings; fallible and fallen like the rest of us. Living under the influence of a fallible and fallen culture, like the rest of us.On the other hand, God is God. God is the creator of the universe. God is the one who has given us life.And this almighty God loves us … all of us. Even you. We celebrated that love just a little over a week agon on Easter. God loves us so much that he sent Jesus to enable us to live a new, bountiful, and eternal kind of life (John 3:16). THAT is where we find our real value. THAT is where we find our real meaning.So, how about this? How about we let the Joneses do their thing, and think a little more about keeping up with God? -
The Good Ol' Days - April 9, 2026
I’ve got a friend named Phil. He’s from Lubbock, the home of Taco Villa. Phil really, really likes Taco Villa. Which makes sense. He grew up eating it. I remember one time, when our youth group was passing through Lubbock on a mission trip, Phil was so proud of Taco Villa that we stopped there for lunch, giving us all the opportunity to savor the flavor.
Phil, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. But Taco Villa just isn’t that great. Don’t get me wrong. It’s OK, it’s just not great. I really like Phil and since he was such a fan of Taco Villa, I wanted to like it too. And I tried. I really tried. But I just can’t. And neither can my daughter. She went to Texas Tech. And whenever we would visit, I’d ask whether we could go to Taco Villa. She’d just roll her eyes. It became one of our inside jokes.Now, I wish I could say this is just a Phil thing, but it isn’t. For me, it’s Mr. Gattis. I love Mr. Gattis pizza. It’s irrational, I know, but when I was growing up, we had one of the first Mr. Gattis in Austin quite close to our house. We wouldn’t eat out very often, but when we did, it was usually at that Mr. Gattis. My mother would order one large pizza for our entire family of 7, which is where I learned a little about competitive eating. But mostly I remember how great that pizza tasted. It was just the perfect mixture of sauce and cheese and crust and pepperoni. It was amazing!But nowadays, whenever I ask my friends who didn’t grow up eating Mr. Gattis if they’d like to go there, they just roll their eyes. It’s kind of become a joke.It’s funny how some of those things from our past can make such a big impression on us. A lot of us look back on the old days, on the good times with so much fondness that it can impact our reality right now.And there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m a pastor in the United Methodist church, a denomination with a relatively long history. Generations upon generations have grown up in the Methodist faith. And for a lot of us in the church, there is a tendency to look back on our formative times within the church with fondness and nostalgia—to think that those were the “good old days” and that if we could just keep the church that way, everything will be ok.But we’ve got to be careful, because the only constant in this world is change. And I think that is—or should be—especially true of us Christians. St. Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” What I think St. Paul is talking about isn’t just a single, instantaneous change. He’s also talking about growth. God’s intention for us is that we grow throughout the entire course of our lives; spiritually, emotionally, intellectually. And growth means change. It means change in the way we live our individual lives and it means change in the way we live out our lives together in community. It means change in our churches.It’s ok to look back with fondness on the world of our youth, but we can’t assume everyone else feels the same way about that world. If we are going to reach new people with the Good News that God loves them, we may have to grow into a new way of expressing it. After all, not everyone likes Taco Villa, or Mr. Gattis for that matter.