And Jesus entered the voting booth and began to check all the boxes for Republican candidates. And seeing certain Jews entering the polling place and casting their votes for Democrats, He began to cry out, “I intended for my people to belong only to the GOP, but you have turned this nation into a bunch of bleeding-heart libbies!” And He began to flip over tables like a crazy person, screaming something about making Rome great again.
(This excerpt was taken out and covered up by the Catholic Illuminati. Read The Da Vinci Code for more riveting historical information).
– p. 171-172
If the above offends you, read this book. If you have a sense of humor, read this book. If you are a human being, read this book.
Satire is a literary work holding up human vices and follies to ridicule or scorn; trenchant wit, irony, or sarcasm used to expose and discredit vice or folly. It’s supposed to make the reader at least a little bit uncomfortable. This does not mean that satire is always mean-spirited, though it can be, but rather that satire has a way of peeling back the layers to expose our cherished ridiculousness for what it is. And let’s face it: Much of contemporary Christian subculture is ridiculous. (Read that sentence again. I did not write “Christianity is ridiculous,” “theology is ridiculous,” “the Bible is ridiculous” or “church is ridiculous”).
How to be a Perfect Christian is written by Adam Ford and Kyle Mann, the duo behind The Babylon Bee, a site willing to poke the sacred cows of church greeting times (the scourge of every introvert ever), worship leader fashion sense (work those skinny jeans!), Baptist potluck practices (casserole, casserole and more casserole) and a host of other topics. Ford and Mann are part of this world of fighting over carpet colors and attempting to figure out how to do as little as possible while still claiming to serve God, so their satire is very much an “in joke.” They make fun of the silly things we do because they love the church.
I have yet to be offended by anything The Bee puts out. Ford and Mann fall into the Calvinist camp, so you’d think that they would be roasting my fellow Arminians all day long, but everyone gets teased. The ribbing extends beyond that age-old argument and encompasses politics, Episcopalians, the danger of bass lines during worship and the recent royal wedding. There’s something for everyone to laugh at.
And we need that. We need to be able to admit that we’re silly sometimes. We need to own the fact that we love our routines and rituals just a little too much. We need these light-yet-barbed slaps upside the head every so often, to help us get our eyes back on Christ.
No matter what ministry you serve in, remember the golden rule: let everyone else do all the heavy lifting. We mean this literally. If the potluck is wrapping up and people are tearing down tables and chairs, stand off to the side and engage in spiritual conversation about the things of God. Should someone dare approach you and ask if you’d lend a hand, hit ’em with a zinger like, “Oh, sorry. I was just over here discussing the gospel-centered gospel with a brother in the Lord. I didn’t realize you didn’t care about Jesus at all.”
– p. 86
Hurts, because it’s true.
Read this book. Laugh at yourself.