There are several ways to prepare a steak. First, there is the traditional charcoal grill method, which I am partial to. To start, heat the grill to around 400 degrees. Sear the steak directly over the heat for four to five minutes on each side, adjusting based on the cut, thickness, and desired doneness (these times are for a one-inch New York strip, by the way). Personally, I prefer using an instant-read thermometer and taking the steak off when the center reaches about 120 degrees. After that, I let it rest, wrapped in aluminum foil, for three minutes. Pair it with some French fries or baked potatoes—and maybe a salad—and I can usually count on seeing smiles around the dinner table with this approach.
Next, there’s the Bobby Flay indoor method, which involves heating a cast iron skillet on the stove for several minutes. You sear the meat for two minutes on each side, then transfer the skillet and steak to a 500-degree oven for ten minutes to finish cooking. I’ve tried this a couple of times with mixed results. More often than not, I end up filling the kitchen with smoke and setting off the fire alarm.
Another method, favored by a friend of mine, utilizes a high-end ceramic Big Green Egg XL smoker. As an electrical engineer, he approaches grilling with a scientific mindset, meticulously following a precise schedule and relying on the latest insights into the chemistry of cooking.
These are all perfectly fine ways to prepare a steak. No doubt, each method can produce a quality result; however, the best steak I ever had was prepared using the Jim McDonald method.
It wasn’t long after Jim began his call as vicar at St. Andrew’s in Mountain Home that he invited me to lead a congregational development workshop with the vestry. The drive from Little Rock to Mountain Home takes about three and a half hours, so he and Kathy kindly offered me their guest bedroom for the night and invited me to join them for dinner. Steak was on the menu.
The evening’s fare began with bacon-wrapped, cream cheese-filled jalapeño poppers that Jim had prepared on his smoker while it heated up for the steaks. I received a brief lesson in the art (not science, mind you) of smoking meat, covering everything from selecting the right cuts to the unique advantages of using cherry wood or hickory as fuel. But I honestly don’t remember many details; Jim was so nonchalant about it all. Preparing a steak seemed second nature to him, and it was clear I was in the presence of a master. At one point, I tried to extract some specifics, like cooking times and optimal temperatures, which I had come to expect from grill enthusiasts. So, I asked him, “How long does it take to cook a steak?” His response was surprisingly profound: “About a couple of beers,” he said.
Now, let me pause here and say that the metaphor I’m setting up would pair just as well with vegetarian cuisine and non-alcoholic beverages. So don’t feel left out if you don’t eat meat or prefer a seltzer water instead of beer.
The meal Jim and Kathy prepared that evening was truly splendid. The steak was unmatched. However, I discovered that the essence of the Jim McDonald method wasn’t about instant-read thermometers or high-end ceramic smokers. It was rooted in hospitality, companionship, and friendship. “About a couple of beers” means conversation and connection. It means valuing time spent with one another, not as a means to an end, but as an end in and of itself. It means believing that relationships are gifts and that nurturing them is our life’s work. That’s how you cook a steak. That’s how you do ministry.
It makes me think that if St. Paul were around today he would also be giving Bobby Flay a run for his money. In his letter to the Romans, Paul’s focus is on relationships. Gentiles and Jews who had come to believe in Christ were fighting with one another, each group claiming superiority, and Paul’s mission was to remind them of their unity in Christ: “We have many parts in one body, but the parts don’t all have the same function,” says Paul. “In the same way, though there are many of us, we are one body in Christ, and individually we belong to each other.” What a compelling statement, don’t you think? “We belong to each other.” That implies responsibility, compassion, and empathy. It means that when we make decisions about what’s good for us, we need to be considering what’s good for our neighbors as well.
Paul elaborates on this in the verses that follow, which I have heard described as an “arpeggio of twenty-nine imperatives that run up and down the scale of love.” These imperatives are famously condensed into the beloved benediction: “Go forth into the world in peace; be of good courage; hold fast to what is good; render to no one evil for evil; strengthen the fainthearted; support the weak; help the afflicted; honor everyone; love and serve the Lord.”
St. Paul’s approach to ministry, much like preparing a steak, centers on valuing the people you share the journey with—your companions in faith. It’s less about statistics, politics, and performance. Sure, you can cook a decent steak that way, but in the end, you might find yourself with no one to share it with.
I’m delighted to be here today. It’s a true honor to share this pulpit with someone I regard as a master of his craft. As a transition minister, it’s also a special privilege to celebrate such a great match. Fifteen years ago, St. John’s was the first congregation where I facilitated a leadership transition, and I’ve seen the genuine care you show to your clergy. St. John’s is not only in good hands with Jim, but I also know that Jim is in good hands with St. John’s. You know how to belong to one another.
When Jim was at St. Andrew’s in Mountain Home, there was a group of grill aficionados affectionately known as the Holy Smokers. If St. Paul were here today, I can imagine he would be a member. There’s plenty of division in the world, and creating a space where people can truly belong to one another is one of the greatest gifts the Christian Church can offer. Fort Smith is fortunate to have such talented chefs at St. John’s. With the love that fills this place, anyone who dines at this table on Sunday mornings is sure to enjoy the best meal they’ve ever had.
On the occasion of Jim McDonald’s induction as rector of St. John’s, Fort Smith