This blog is written with deliberate theological humor. Its levity is offered as a small refuge in the midst of a heavy world. Any respect I may lose because of the sheer absurdity of what follows is fully acknowledged—and sincerely embraced.
Few things in creation serve as such powerful symbols of God’s grace and goodness as BBQ. And by BBQ, I mean meat that has been smoked over wood or charcoal at temperatures under 250 degrees for long, patient hours. There are certain segments of our population who use the term “BBQ” to describe hot dogs and hamburgers cooked quickly on a grill. These people are misguided and must be gently—but firmly—corrected. Speaking the truth in love requires that we look them in the eye and say, “My dear, lost soul… BBQ is not a verb whose object is a hamburger or hot dog. You have not created BBQ. You have merely grilled.” In doing so, you become an emissary of kindness to wandering sheep.
The great message of BBQ begins forming early in Scripture. In Genesis 4, Abel brings meat, and God is pleased with his offering. This alone should cause us to reconsider our dietary priorities. In Genesis 9, there is a clear command not to eat meat with the blood still in it. If raw meat is forbidden, one may logically deduce that thoroughly cooked meat must be especially pleasing. The fattiest portions were consistently emphasized as the best offering to God. This is no coincidence. It is widely acknowledged that fat is the defining characteristic of great meat. At low temperatures, fat does not burn; it slowly renders, saturating the meat with tenderness and flavor. This, of course, is a near-perfect metaphor for sanctification. Slowly and steadily, over time, we are rendered more and more into the likeness of Christ.
I propose that we adopt BBQ language into our spiritual vocabulary. When asked, “How are you doing today?” one might reply, “I am more smoky than I deserve,” or perhaps, “I am low and slow and dripping fat.” In seasons of suffering, we might confess that we feel like “a burger grilled over propane.”
Smoke itself is a powerful biblical symbol of God’s presence and glory. Exodus 19:18 tells us that Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the Lord descended upon it in fire. Isaiah 6 describes the temple filled with smoke as Isaiah encounters the holiness of God. In light of this, I suggest that modern churches at least consider placing a working smoker at their front doors. There may be no guaranteed formula for church growth, but few could argue that attendance would not increase dramatically.
The symbolism deepens in the priesthood of Israel. Leviticus weaves together smoke and meat into a rich theological tapestry. In Leviticus 4:31, a sacrifice is offered as “smoke on the altar for a pleasing aroma to the Lord.” In Leviticus 7:5, the priests present the meat “in smoke on the altar as a gift to the Lord.” Jesus, our perfect priest, invites further reflection here—especially when one considers that the word “incarnation” comes from carne, meaning “flesh” or “meat.” Entire dissertations could be written on this point, though that task lies beyond the scope of this blog.
As Scripture moves from the Old Testament to the New, BBQ becomes an increasingly compelling pointer to God’s unfolding plan. Joel 2, echoed in Acts, declares:
“I will pour out my Spirit in those days. I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth— blood, fire, and columns of smoke.”
Blood and fire become theological shorthand for BBQ, as the Spirit inaugurates a new covenant reality. Even before the indwelling of the Spirit, Jesus declares all foods clean in Mark 7. BBQ thus receives what can only be described as divine favor. In 1 Corinthians, even meat sold from pagan temples is declared permissible. In the presence of BBQ, even demons must retreat.
In all seriousness… BBQ really is a good, good gift.
The time it takes to prepare it—the slow trimming of a pork shoulder, the careful seasoning of a brisket, the quiet hours hovering over a smoker in the dead of night—is a labor of love. It’s work done not just for food, but for people. For those we treasure. For the moments we share around a table.
I love how Paul puts it in 1 Corinthians 10:31: “Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God.”
There’s something more than ordinary happening when people gather around a meal. Food has always been a means of grace and teaching in Scripture. Think about how often God uses meals to shape His people—Passover, manna, sacrifices, feasts, the Lord’s Supper. Again and again, God meets His people at the table.
And it’s no accident that when the restoration of all things finally arrives—when Jesus’ victory and reign are celebrated in the new heavens and earth—the Bible describes a great meal together. The marriage supper of the Lamb. I’m betting there will be BBQ on the table.