Our church broke outside of its walls yesterday with its annual "Church in the Park" celebration.  With a spirit of national pride, teaching of practical truth, and music that made passerby's stop and check it out, Grace Church left its mark on Potowotami Park in South Bend.  I've attended this event for five years now, and I'm left with the feeling that it gets better each and every year.  There is one aspect of this fabulous day however, that seemingly remains unchanged..."Bob owns the grill!"

That's right, I said it.  Every year it goes without saying that I will take my place in front of a pit of flaming charcoal and next to a bottle left a quarter full of lighter fluid (which started out full).  I'll have anything from a spatula to a charred stick in my right hand, and a Mountain Dew in my left.  My shirt will be untucked, my belt will be loosed, and yes, I will be sweating...a lot.  I am a grillmaster, and very proud of it.

The fact is, I was not always this comfortable in claiming my grillmaster status.  During the course of my sophomore summer, I remember a family of the church asking me if I'd like to join them for lunch on that day.  As an offensive lineman, living ever so slightly underweight, I was more than happy to accept their invitation.  It was only minutes after the service when I realized I'd bitten off more than I could chew.  I was handed a bag of charcoal, a lighter, and a tupperware container of steaks and told the order of "two mediums and one done."  I was in trouble.  As far as I knew, there was only one type of steak...dead.  After that, I learned not to be picky.  Needless to say, I messed up three steaks that day.  Looking back, the family was quite gracious towards my incompetence, however I have not been invited to cookout with them since.

It has been a slow and steady climb through the years, grilling with family and friends.  I've grilled at picnics and on holidays.  I've grilled during superbowls and national championship games.  I've grilled in sunshine, cloudy weather, and even a few times in the snow.  I've grilled steak, chicken, pork, burgers, brats, and dogs.  I've even thrown a few cobs of corn and veggie skewers on there.  I've worked at a grueling pace to hone and enhance my skills atop a burning pile of rock, and now, five years later I stand before you a grillmaster.

I have been struck several times lately with the fact that we don't push people beyond their assumed limitations in other areas of life.  If someone doesn't like heights, we help them find a one-story house.  If someone doesn't like sunshine, we ship them to Seattle.  Even spiritually, if someone doesn't like to pray, we cease asking them to ask the Lord's blessing before a meal.  Why aren't we seeking to push the boundaries of accountability?  Why are we so content to stay cozy?

Please understand that I'm not talking about outrageous confrontation, but rather encouragement and motivation through constant and consistent presentation of opportunities to try something new and "get better."  If that family wouldn't have tossed me the charcoal five years ago, I wouldn't be so proud of the chicken I grilled yesterday.  I only hope I can use this experience to encourage others to progress in the name of Christ.

Grilling EVERY meal until He returns,

Bobby