`Dear God, This Is Marge' -- Irreverent `Simpsons' Look To Heaven

When the animated television series "The Simpsons" appeared more than a decade ago, it was denounced by many throughout the nation - and nowhere more vigorously than from America's pulpits. The nation's moral leaders thundered that this dysfunctional family was the latest evidence of the fall of Western civilization.

"We need a nation closer to the Waltons than the Simpsons," President George Bush told the National Religious Broadcasters in 1992.

As cartoonist Matt Groening's show approaches a new season, it continues to be a source of controversy, this time drawing criticism from a Roman Catholic watchdog organization. The group, the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, cited several jokes about the church.

In one case, pressure from network officials this past season forced the show's producers to alter a line about the Catholic church when a program aired in rerun this summer.

But the controversy obscures the fact that God, Christianity and Christians are more a part of the Simpsons' daily lives than in any other prime-time network series, at least shows not specifically devoted to religion.

"Right-wingers complain there's no God on TV," Groening said in a recent interview in Mother Jones magazine. "Not only do the Simpsons go to church every Sunday and pray, they actually speak to God from time to time. We show him - and God has five fingers, unlike the Simpsons, who only have four."

Mike Scully, the series' executive producer, said the show tries to reflect through its characters the fact that faith plays a substantial part in many families' lives.

"The Simpsons" is consistently irreverent toward organized religion's failings and excesses - as it is with most other aspects of modern life. However, God is not mocked. When "The Simpsons" characters are faced with crises, they turn to God.

He answers their prayers and intervenes in their world. The family says prayers before meals, believes in a literal heaven and hell, and ridicules cults. Their next-door neighbors are committed evangelical Christians.

Some in the religious world have recognized this phenomenon. In 1992, the show was the subject of a favorable master's thesis at Pat Robertson's Regent University. "While it may not completely resonate with the evangelical Judeo-Christian belief system," wrote Beth Keller, " `The Simpsons' does portray a family searching for moral and theological ideals."

The Door, a religious humor magazine, put the series on a recent cover with an article titled "The Springfield Blessing: The Theology of Homer Simpson." And in the Christian monthly PRISM, published by Evangelicals for Social Action, teacher Bill Dark wrote that the series is "the most pro-family, God-preoccupied, home-based program on television. Statistically speaking, there is more prayer on `The Simpsons' than on any sitcom in broadcast history."

Homer, who works at a nuclear-power plant, often expresses gratitude at the dinner table, thanking God "most of all for nuclear power, which is yet to cause a single, proven fatality, at least in this country."

The Simpsons' blessings are decidedly mixed. After a particularly disastrous Thanksgiving Day, Homer loses it as he offers thanks "for the occasional moments of peace and love our family's experienced . . . well, not today. You saw what happened. Oh Lord, be honest. Are we the most pathetic family in the world, or what?"

As in many households, prayer at the Simpsons' is most fervent in the face of disaster, like a hurricane or a comet bearing down on their cartoon town of Springfield, and often comes in the form of a bargain:

"Dear God, this is Marge Simpson. If you stop this hurricane and save our family, we will be forever grateful and recommend you to all of our friends."

The Simpsons attend Springfield Community Church, with the unctuous Rev. Timothy Lovejoy in the pulpit, and a marquee featuring a variety of challenging messages, such as "God, the Original Love Connection," and "Sunday, the Miracle of Shame."

Homer's understanding of theology is undeniably hazy. Asked by Bart what his religious beliefs are, Homer answers, "You know, the one with all the well-meaning rules that don't work in real life. Uh, Christianity."

But Homer does not doubt the existence of God, even when he decides not to go to church. Instead, he wants to start his own sybaritic religion, which occasions a divine visitation.

"I'm not a bad guy," he tells God. "I work hard and I love my kids. So why should I spend half my Sunday hearing about how I'm going to hell?"

God replies: "Hmm, you've got a point there. You know, sometimes even I'd rather be watching football."

"So I figure I should try to live right and worship you in my own way," Homer concludes. But he changes his mind a few minutes later when he is dragged from his burning house by Ned Flanders, an evangelical Christian who lives next door.

Ned is a doofus - there is no other word for him. He is such a goody-goody that he doesn't let his equally devout children use dice when playing board games because the playing pieces are "wicked." Still, Ned takes his faith seriously and is not a hypocrite.

Abused constantly by his oafish next-door neighbor, the relentlessly upbeat Ned returns only love and good works. When Flanders suffers a breakdown and is condemned by the church, Homer tells members of the congregation, "This man has turned every cheek on his body. If everyone here were like Ned Flanders, there'd be no need for heaven: We'd already be there."

The Flanders family is portrayed "fallibly but sympathetically," said Michael Glodo, professor of Old Testament and Preaching at Reformed Theological Seminary in Oviedo, Fla. "They are simple, sincere, earnest - a good package of virtue, especially in a post-modern culture where cynicism and irony and satire are the prevailing sentiments."

Moral dilemmas frequently confront characters, everything from stealing - cookies from a jar or an illegal cable TV hookup - to adultery, or selling your soul to the devil, which Homer does for a doughnut and Bart does for a Formula One race car and $5 in cash.

"What I do appreciate about `The Simpsons' is that evil often - if not always - is punished with consequences," said Robert Knight, director of cultural studies for the conservative Washington, D.C.-based Family Research Council.

"The Simpsons do function in a moral universe, and, while the show seems to make fun of moral standards, it often upholds those same standards in a back-handed way," said Knight, author of "The Age of Consent: The Rise of Relativism and The Corruption of Popular Culture."

When Otto, the stoned school-bus driver, becomes homeless, he is invited by Bart to move into the Simpsons' garage.

"I know we didn't ask for this, Homer," says Marge, "but doesn't the Bible say, `Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me . . . ?' "

Yes, Homer replies, "but doesn't the Bible also say, `Thou shalt not take moochers into thy hut?' "

No one would mistake Homer Simpson and his family for saints. In many ways, in fact, they are quintessentially weak, good-hearted sinners who rely on their faith - but only when absolutely necessary.

"They have captured a very common understanding of who God is," said Glodo, of Reformed Theological Seminary. "It's a very functional view of religion."