Early in the introduction to The Gospel According to The Simpsons, the great 20th century theological voice, Reinhold Niebuhr, is quoted: “Humor is a prelude to faith, and laughter is the beginning of prayer.” (p. 5) This is immediately followed by an observation that humor which is not founded upon a faith presupposition has a tendency to degenerate into cynicism and despair, while faith that doesn’t allow humor can quickly devolve into arrogance and intolerance. The entire book is predicated on this idea that humor expresses and informs faith. In some circles (including some where I’ve ministered), this is a bold step.
Mark Pinsky, the author of The Gospel According to The Simpsons is of Jewish background himself, but as a journalist on the religion beat, he is astute enough to recognize that the “religion” espoused by the characters on “The Simpsons” is not the New Testament gospel of grace but a confluence of the idea of “good works” and distorted Old Testament sentiments. In fact, Homer seems to indicate in another episode what many modern people believe. Bart asks him what kind of religion the family is part of and Homer responds, “You know, the one with all the well-meaning rules that don’t work in real life. Uh, Christianity.” (p. 22) Authentic Bible verses are often deliberately misquoted and characters like Homer (and even the ironically named Rev. Lovejoy (who apparently doesn’t love joy)) occasionally mix in gibberish and pop culture without even the sophistication of Tevye’s occasional references to the “good book” in Fiddler on the Roof (I don’t know what his “good book” is, but it isn’t the Torah as most of us know it.).
With years of journalism behind him, the author also knows that the series doesn’t depict everything about the church as authentically as possible. For example, he cannot understand how a pastor as ineffective as Lovejoy doesn’t have to deal with factionalism. He writes about disputes within churches and synagogues: “I have come to believe that the reason this occurs so frequently and can lead to so much bitterness and intense fighting is the depth of feeling people have about spiritual matters. I think it may also be a function of the powerlessness people experience in other spheres of their lives: work, home, school, government bureaucracy, and the political system.” (p. 61)
Pinsky shows how this religion is handled both with sensitivity and authenticity at times, but is even more often exposed as the idolatry it is. For example, characters constantly try to bargain with God as though God is an angry deity whose wrath has to be placated. On pp. 13-14, Pinsky reminded me of an episode where Homer offers milk and cookies to God as part of a “plea” bargain and then, suggests that if God doesn’t intend for Homer himself to consume the milk and cookies, God should show NO sign. When nothing happens, Homer eats the milk and cookies as “God’s will.” It’s perverse, but it also satirizes the way some who claim to be believers still try to manipulate God, confusing faith and magic. By the way, in the episode, God gets the last laugh because Homer’s bargain was for God to leave everything exactly as it was and he soon discovers that Marge is pregnant with Maggie.
One of the delights of reading a book like this is discovering some juicy excerpts from episodes one may have missed. I didn’t see the one where Homer ended up on a primitive island and forced the natives to build a church. Homer unwittingly expresses the ideas of many people with regard to institutional religion when he says, “I don’t know much about God, but I have to say we built a pretty nice cage for him.” (p. 17) There was also the time when Barney, the town drunk, indicated that he was clueless about the New Testament account of the resurrection because he says that Jesus “must be spinning in his grave.” (p. 22)
It’s even interesting how the series expresses an interesting mixture between the possible supernatural and the responsibility of humans. Remember the episode where Bart has failed the test and isn’t ready to retake it? He begs God for one more day to study and gets that magical, mystery snow day. He studies and passes the test by one point, offering in exuberant thanksgiving to give God part of the credit for his “D-.” (p. 31) Whether believers think something miraculous has happened in answer to their prayers or that the event might be a coincidence, it seems clear that one has the utmost responsibility to do one’s best—even if it’s only to earn a “D-.” Of course, what really troubles me is when people pray and accept that “D-“ as though it’s all God could do for them.
Sometimes, the humor cuts both ways. The superintendent’s words when he fires Ned Flanders from his job as interim principal of the elementary school reflect as poorly on liberals who think faith is irrational as upon believers who try to force their faith on others. “God has no place within these walls, just like the facts have no place in organized religion.” (p. 45) Pinsky also doesn’t “call” the writers on Rev. Lovejoy’s syncretistic comment when he performs Apu’s wedding (even though Apu has been both a Hindu and dabbled briefly into Scientology). Lovejoy says, “Christ is Christ” and implies that the Christ of Christianity is the same as some New Age concept of divinity within each human (p. 127).
There was also a principle of Judaism that Pinsky introduced me to with regard to the counsel given to Lisa regarding her family’s theft of a pirate cable television signal. The principle is called shalom bayit (“peace in the home”) and means “…family harmony should prevail whenever possible, with an emphasis on flexibility, without compromising personal integrity.” (p. 86) Lisa is encouraged not to participate in the television watching and to quietly express to her family why she cannot be part of the activity. I also loved a line from that episode where we learn about Krusty the Klown’s background. As his rabbi father was kvelling about how wonderful his son was. The rabbi is accused of exaggerating and he responds, “A rabbi composes. He creates thoughts. He tells stories that may never have happened. But he does not exaggerate!” (p. 114) It’s a great callback to a comment attributed to Elie Wiesel that some stories are “true” that never happened. Wiesel was suggesting that stories usually express higher truths than commandments and facts. Somehow, such a statement seems appropriate in the light of the delightful analysis of the series presented in The Gospel According to The Simpsons.