Amid satire, a call to belief

JESUS has returned for the Second Coming, this time in the Bronx, and, boy, is the religious right in trouble. “The Messiah of Morris Avenue” by British author and satirist Tony Hendra is a sardonic sendup of what our nation might become in the not-too-distant future if the power of the religious right continues to grow until there is no separation between church and state, and how a modern-day Jesus might enter such a scenario. “Christianity is unrecognizable to me,” Hendra’s savior says. “Christians have removed me from my own religion.”

In this imagined world, Hollywood has become Holywood and creates only family-values films. The Ten Commandments appear on cigarettes, alcohol and lingerie advertising, anywhere temptation might be present.

Televangelists hold major sway over the president, whose clan has come to successive rule in the White House: after Sparrow 1 and Sparrow 2, the country is currently led by Sparrow 3, whose longtime advisor, Curt, is a man so influential he’s never had to divulge his last name. This is “a faith-based, morality-valuing, Bible-believing America, where theocracy and democracy were synonymous; where the executive, legislative, and judiciary were the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, distinct, omnipotent -- not to mention omniscient -- persons of the ruling triune God.”

Narrating the tale is the jaded journalist Johnny Greco, who’d won a Pulitzer back when real news was respected and reported. Now, awash in cynicism and alcohol, he happens upon a new interview subject, Jose Francisco Lorcan Kennedy (who goes by Jay).

A Spanish-speaking working-class reincarnation of Jesus, Jay wishes to clear up the misunderstanding over phrases such as “blessed are the poor” that have been used to justify poverty. “Actually,” he clarifies with Greco, “I said blessed are the poor ‘in spirit.’ ” Jay’s theology includes belief in Mother God (filling in the spot traditionally held by the Holy Spirit: Mother God joined in love with Father God begets Child God). “My enemies,” he preaches, “are poverty, injustice, untreated disease, violence and greed.”

As the powerful televangelists line up against Jay and his rabble-rousers, skeptical newsman Greco follows the story, writing about the conflict and, along the way, shedding his cynicism and converting to Jay’s teachings.

Hendra is a funny guy who cut his teeth as an original editor of National Lampoon and editor in chief of Spy magazine. In a move contrary to this comic persona, Hendra published a 2004 memoir, “Father Joe: The Man Who Saved My Soul,” tracing his spiritual journey from a devout Catholic aspiring to be a Benedictine monk to a comic force who’d come to see laughter as sacred and who eventually re-embraces his faith.

In “The Messiah of Morris Avenue,” he combines these two elements -- mordant satire and earnest belief -- the result of which is uneven at best. The opening section, in which we’re introduced to this future America, is caustic and delightful in its sharp-tongued humor. What follows, though, is ultimately an earnest call to belief, to spiritual renewal and reassessment -- but it’s set incongruously against a backdrop of pure spoof. The disconnect between these two stances makes for a bumpy ride.

As the story gains momentum, we realize Hendra is recounting the biblical last days of Jesus (in this case, Jay is to be executed by the state in a correctional facility) with Greco playing the part of Judas, though he’s a loyal and devoted Judas. Once the narrative assumes its Gospel outline, we know exactly where it’s going and the plot tension drains away; the only possible hook remaining is how he will update the tale.

Hendra is straddling two worlds here: the very heavy realm of religious belief and the poke-fun-of world on which satire thrives. It’s a combination that’s dicey at best. Readers may feel as if they’ve entered one type of novel only to find themselves in a very different one by the book’s end, one that adds little to the well-known Gospel account but does manage to poke acerbic fun at the faith-based furor currently in fashion in U.S. politics.

Bernadette Murphy is a critic and the author of several books, including “Zen and the Art of Knitting” and, with co-author Michelle Huneven, “The Tao Gal’sGuide to Real Estate.”