THE ULTIMATE EQUALIZER

365 Days of Thanksliving — Day 154

Sing it with me—you know the tune, and don’t you dare pretend you’re too high-brow for a jingle.

I want my baby back, baby back, baby back... Bonni’s Baby Back Ribs! (BBQ sauce).

Alright, I took some creative liberties with the lyrics. Mostly because there isn’t a Chili’s within 114 miles, but also because, quite frankly, I kicked their corporate backsides tonight. Even the wifey was impressed, and that's say'n something!

She should be, too. The last time I attempted ribs, our late, deceased pellet smoker decided to petrify them in record time. I’m pretty sure I wrote a eulogy for those carbonized remains somewhere in these archives. But tonight? These two racks were straight-up dope in the best way possible.

As you're hearing, this afternoon, we sacrificed Miss Piggy on the altar of all things BBQ. We seasoned her within an inch of her life, smoked her for two hours, and then gave her a decadent, sticky bath in a concoction of brown sugar, Amish butter, and BBQ sauce before returning her to the smoker. Oh, Kermy... eat your heart out. Miss Piggy tasted divine.

It makes you wonder: what is it about food that makes us so ridiculously giddy?

I had a great laugh this morning with some church friends talking about ice cream flavors and food blogs. It makes sense to me. Of all the things in this fractured world, nothing bridges the gap between humans quite like a plate of something delicious. We celebrate the greats, and we scratch our heads at the questionable regional choices.

Just consider this absolute head-thumper: what soused Norseman decided that soaking air-petrified cod in a bath of poisonous lye, then steaming it until it’s translucent and resembles a giant larva, was a culinary breakthrough? I can hear the 10th-century conversation now.

Lars tells Thor, "Hey der, let’s take dat fish dats hard as a rock, soak it in cleaning chemicals til it’s pliable, and steam it til it looks like a jellyfish. Yah... dat should taste real good, don’tchyaknow."

And Thor just looks at him and says, "Lars, have you been pickin' dem magic shrooms off da mountain again? You gotta leave dem tings alone, buddy."

In all seriousness, it doesn’t take much to divide us these days. The Pharisees of Jesus’ time had their proverbial undies in a permanent bunch whenever anyone they considered "less than" got within a two-foot radius.

But Jesus? He didn’t have time for that elitist nonsense. He had zero issues breaking bread with the religiously snobby, the IRS agents of the day, and the local barflies—all at the same table. Mark tells us that when the scribes asked why He ate with "those people," Jesus just told them that it’s the sick who need a doctor, not the well (Mark 2:15–17).

Jesus knew that food is the ultimate equalizer. It brings us together, but the sweet, sticky stuff that actually keeps us together isn't just the BBQ sauce. It’s love. It’s friendship. It’s the kind of grace that doesn't care if you've got sauce on your chin.

We need more of this. We need to find a reason—any reason—to fire up the grill and invite someone over. In hindsight, I should’ve done this tonight. We had plenty on the table, with a full rack to spare.

Tonight, I’m thankful that food can bring us together like nothing else can. 

I know some of you are hundreds of miles away, but for those of you who are local, this is a standing invitation. For those of you reading in Nebraska or Oregon, you can do this too. Organize a picnic. Find a neighbor. Find an excuse to give thanks and share a meal.

Who’s up for the challenge? I’ve got the smoker ready and Miss Piggy is on standby.

What are you thankful for tonight?