All my reading material was on my computer so on the way into the air and on the way down I read the American Airlines American Way magazine. It’s not often that one finds stories about churches in the in-flight mag, but there it was: New Zion Missionary Baptist Church. Why? Because the church operates an apparently spectacular BBQ restaurant in Huntsville, TX.

It seems that back in the 70s folk were fixing up the church and someone was making BBQ for the workers and someone else asked if he could buy some of that good-smelling BBQ. Before they knew it, New Missionary Baptist Church had a revenue stream and a new ministry. Now the “New Zion BBQ” is one of the more famous BBQ places in America.

There are a couple of lessons to be learned here. The first is that the church got into BBQ business the way churches often get into such things: It just happened. People doing ordinary things and failing to make some important distinctions along the way leads to confusion. This is precisely how the medieval church ended up with seven sacraments in place of the two instituted by the Head of the Church (Christ). Good intentions eventually became sacraments. Indeed, the medieval church was “transforming culture” for Christ long before the neo-Kuyperians. The medieval church baptized ordinary (and often misguided) private religious acts and made them into sacraments.

New Zion should have done what the early, high, and late medieval church should have done: just say no. When someone proposed making the BBQ business an operation of the church, someone should have said, “No, that’s not proper to the visible, institutional church. If one of our members wants to operate an excellent BBQ six days a week and fulfill an honorable vocation that brings glory to God that’s proper but the church as an institution has no business being in the BBQ business.” Evidently, no one made that speech or, if someone did, the church didn’t listen. Now the minister spends 10 hours on saturday cooking BBQ. Ironically, according to the article, Sunday’s sermon was “The Marks of a Christian.” The title, at least is promising as it comes right out of Belgic Confession Art. 29. One wonders if there will be a follow-up sermon on “The Marks of the Church” and if so what will they do with the BBQ business after that sermon?

The second lesson here is to distinguish between two kingdoms, between things heavenly and things earthly, between things sacred and things secular. The church is the divinely ordained, institutional manifestation of the Kingdom of God on the earth. To her alone has been given the ministry of the gospel and discipline. As an institution, She has been commissioned by her Lord to do precisely three things: Administer the Word and sacraments, pray, and administer discipline. The ministry and vocation of the visible, institutional church is spiritual. That doesn’t mean that it’s ethereal. The preaching of the Word uses spoken, human, language (which strikes the very real eardrums of its hearers) and the ministry of the sacraments uses ordinary water, bread, and wine set apart for holy purposes—by the way, what do the anti-dualist, neo-Kuyperians do with the business of “setting apart” the sacramental elements? Does not that very act declare a clear and inviolable distinction between the sacred and the profane?—Rather, in this instance spiritual means “to do with the Holy Spirit.” The Spirit has been promised to the church and has promised to operate through certainly divinely instituted ministries: preaching of the Word (law and gospel), the administration of the sacraments, prayer, and the administration of discipline. Indeed, one of those sacraments is a meal. In the case of Annie Mae Ward’s BBQ, it appears that a secular meal has displaced the sacred meal instituted by Christ. No church of Christ should be more famous for its BBQ than for the broken body and shed blood of Christ.

The point here is not that I don’t like BBQ. I love BBQ. One of the great things about living in Kansas City for six years was the great BBQ just round the corner from us (The Smokehouse). The point here is not that Christians shouldn’t make BBQ. If a Christian has the ability to make BBQ and sell it for a profit, he should—six days a week. The point here is not that congregations should not break out of their shell and engage the community. They should. Rather the question is this: with what should we be engaging the community? What do we have to offer? To paraphrase the old saying, “If we don’t sell BBQ, someone else will. If, however, we don’t preach Christ and administer his sacraments and discipline, who will do that?” As much as I enjoyed reading about Annie Mae Ward’s famous BBQ place and as charming as the story was it was also a little heartbreaking.

BBQ is not “cult” (worship, sacraments, discipline, and prayer). It’s “culture.” It’s true that not everyone can make BBQ the way they do at New Zion Missionary Baptist Church, but anyone (Christian and pagan) can contribute to culture. What makes Christ’s church distinctive in this world is not the quality of its BBQ (or the breadth of its diaconal ministries) but the unique, scandalous, stumbling block message of the obedient Second Adam, his crucifixion, his resurrection, his ascension, and his future and certain return.