A parable is more than a story. It is a story on target, set to shatter any listener who gets in its way. Yet a parable’s trajectory is unpredictable, except to one who knows a man’s secrets (152).

BOOM SHAKALAKA. Satire fans can direct their twinkling-eyes on this newly repackaged (and edited) read, and my guess is that fresh recruits will join the woe-singing-chorale in decrying the foibles of 60’s and 70’s Christian E.V.A.N.G.E.L.I.C.A.L.I.S.M. [Doh-Re-Mi-Fa-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-So-La-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha]

Having not read satire in a while, it was a bit difficult to get back into the genre at first . . . I read a page, and cringed, read another page, and cringed some more. I had just about loosened-up to Bayly’s roughhousing, however, when . . . when . . . how do I put it? Ah, yes — it was when, for the first time in my life, I simultaneously laughed-out-loud (LOL!) and thought I had thrown-up in my mouth. Bayly’s sketches of Christian hypocrisy, neo-Judaizers, and squirrelly-Saints are brutal, indeed. But they are brutal because they are parables; they are more than a story.

Yes, these stories are on target. So, like the narcissistic teenagers who cringe when they read Catcher in the Rye–because they can relate with Holden Caulfield, The Gospel Blimp (And Other Parables) will make evangelical Christians cringe–because, if we’re honest with ourselves, we can relate to some of the less-than-honourable-characters. As the copy on the rear jacket says, “And, really, if you’re not looking in the mirror you’re missing the point.”

Read this book. And don’t miss the point.

Disclaimer: Clearnote Press provided me with a review copy of this book.