This is really your golden age.

You used to be all alone. Not too long ago, you had to enjoy your subversive humor underground, thinking you (and maybe Matt Groening) were the only one that found people of faith ridiculous. Today, fueled by Bill Maher’s Religulous, Larknews, Disbelief.net, A Field Guide to Evangelicals and Their Habitat, and at least fifty other assembly line satire-factories, you are part of the enlightened majority.

I am not angry with you. Chances are really good that with my liberal education and an eye for satirical detail, I would be right there with you. In fact, I can find some faith-based absurdity pretty funny myself, seeing how I have spent time sheltering under at least five different denominational umbrellas over the years. It’s okay to expose the fringe-y, preposterous ways in which we worship, pray, and seek. Without it, we’d all be dishonest.

But while you’re painting your portraiture of the Christian faith, remember that modern media isn’t the best palette from which to choose your colors. The shades you will find there are a bit unnatural, even a little garish. In the end you will, no doubt, have a mighty entertaining picture on your hands. It will be loud, funny, and absurd. Everyone will see it and say, “See? What a silly thing that Christian faith is!” It won’t look much like a real person at all.

Pretty soon, you might forget the photo-realism of the Christians who live and work among you. I know you’d rather watch Fred Phelps on YouTube or make another bumpersticker for your Facebook profile that portrays The Virgin Mary’s image on a piece of toast. But in the meantime, you'll overlook the surgeon who lives a half mile away who spends his vacation time and personal salary hovering over third world operating tables. I’ll bet you won’t include among your paint strokes the stay-at-home moms who permanently improve the complexion of the world by teaching their children to be decent citizens and lovers of God. You might miss the 200 local urban ministries that distribute food, repair homes, and visit your city’s disposable prison population.

I hope you won’t misunderstand me. I know that there are Faith Doubters doing good things, too, in the name of social justice or common sense (although there aren't too many agnostic soup kitchens in my city phonebook). The dead-serious truth is that God can transform the heart and soul like nothing else can. You can laugh at us all you want, but if you want to know what we’re really like, put down your satirical paintbrush and just snap a photograph instead.