I really wish I had written this book.

Not because it’s a timeless piece of literature, but because it would have been so much fun to write. Any project that involves watching over 150 episodes of The Simpsons, as Mark Pinsky did for this book, must be as good as it gets.

The Gospel According to The Simpsons chronicles the portrayal of religion in the show, which has just finished its record-breaking 13th season. Since coming on air in 1989, The Simpsons has stood out as not just the funniest, but also the cleverest and most insightful program on television. That’s not bad for a show that seemed at first to be about a ten-year-old brat telling the world and his psychotic father to ‘Eat my shorts’.

Since then, The Simpsons has consistently provoked the kind of strong, passionate reaction most shows can only dream about. Over the last decade, US politicians have gone from denouncing the show as a sign of moral decay to riding its coattails by claiming to be fans.

Any fan of the show, or any Christian, will enjoy The Gospel According to The Simpsons. Anyone who counts themselves as both will find it hard to imagine a more perfect idea for a book. Remembering classic Simpsons moments is a joy for any fan, and this book will help you do just that. Remember when Homer … actually, no, let’s not play that game right now.

Pinsky is not heavy-handed with analysis or attempting to read between the lines. What he provides is more of a compendium of quotes, themes and ideas that have appeared on the show over the years. That’s probably the best approach with an eclectic bunch like the residents of Springfield.

His overall thesis — that The Simpsons is actually extremely positive in its portrayal of God, faith and the place of religion — may be controversial. But, all things considered, it is right on the money.

Admittedly, faith within the Simpson household is fairly haphazard, if not downright blasphemous. Asked what is the family religion, Homer replies, “You know, the one with all the well-meaning rules that don’t work out in real life … uh, Christianity!” Bart is overheard praying to Santa; Homer prays to Superman, and at another point starts a prayer, “Dear God, the gods have been good to me…” Being chased by a runaway Rhino, Homer cries, “Jesus, Allah, Buddha, I love you all!”

But like everything else in the show, these references are worked for maximum comic effect, not maximum social commentary. The analysis is always there, but generally comes second to winning the biggest laugh possible, as one small example might show: as a comet hurtles towards Springfield and threatens to destroy the town, Homer comments that he wishes he was a religious man. Immediately, a hysterical Reverend Timothy Lovejoy, pastor of the First Church of Springfield, runs down the street shouting, “It’s over people! We don’t have a prayer!”

Is this a subversive reference intended to highlight the lack of faith among clergy everywhere and the church’s failure to provide answers in the face of disaster? Or is it just meant to make you laugh out loud?

Consider the show’s overall portrayal of faith. One study found that religion was mentioned in 58 per cent of episodes, and was the main ‘context’ of 11 per cent of episodes. What other prime time show offers that? As Harry Shearer, one of the voices behind the show, said, “No other program even tries to satirise religion. They’re afraid of it and would much rather proffer half a dozen sex jokes.”

The Simpsons’ next door neighbour, Ned Flanders, is an outreach-focused, Bible-quoting, Evangelical who is the most consistently moral character on the show. Most Springfieldians attend church regularly and often turn to God in times of crisis. When you put it all together, the Simpsons may be yellow-skinned, three-fingered, two-dimensional characters who haven’t aged in 13 years, but their faith is more realistic than that of just about anyone else on prime time.

While it does treat religion with great irreverence, The Simpsons consistently attacks all of society’s sacred cows — such as politics, the media and big business — without discrimination. If anything, it would be more of an indictment on the church’s irrelevance if it never came under the spotlight.

Even at its worst, The Simpsons doesn’t question the existence of a higher power or criticise God or Jesus directly. In fact there is a certain irreverent respect shown, such as when Homer opens a Bible and comments, “Everyone’s a sinner — [pointing] except for this guy!” As Pinsky says, hypocrisy, judgmentalism and exploitation within the church are much more likely to cop the criticism.

Pinsky also helpfully reminds us of the positive moral message delivered by Homer and friends. That might have seemed unthinkable a decade ago when anti-Simpsons hype was common, but over the years the show has reinforced traditional values.

Invariably, moments of ‘evil’ are the moments of greatest exaggeration and silliness, while many episodes feature a happy, moral ending. And while he can be a lazy, drunken slob, underneath it all Homer is a very decent guy who wants to be a good husband and father. He just happens to be clueless about what that involves — and it wouldn’t be very funny if he learned. But he does resist powerful temptations such as adultery or putting money ahead of the happiness of his family.

When considering the faith of The Simpsons, it’s worth asking ourselves, what portrayal would we rather see on TV? Most programs convey spirituality as belonging to either the outmoded traditionalist (like Grams from Dawson’s Creek) or the quirky, New Age oddball (like Phoebe from Friends). But in The Simpsons’ world, faith is not a taboo subject. It’s a vital, significant part of daily life.

Perhaps we can thank God for The Simpsons — and not just because it makes us laugh.

Okay, maybe just one ‘remember when’ to finish with: Remember when Lisa wanted to play hockey, and Homer advised her, “Lisa, if the Bible has taught us nothing else - and it hasn’t - it’s that girls should stick to girls’ sports such as hot-oil wrestling, foxy boxing, and such and such.”

Theologically awful; side-splittingly funny. That’s our Homer!