In a black box Off-Broadway theater barely a stone’s throw from Times Square, Susan Isaacs emerges from behind a curtain to perform a one-woman comedy show. She’s a seasoned comic—a former member of the Groundlings improv troop who made multiple appearances on Parks and Recreation—but she’s also a Christian. This 2015 show is a stage adaptation of her spiritual memoir, Angry Conversations With God, in which Isaacs imagines taking God to marriage counseling: “Did I marry him for his money or what I get out of him, or did I marry him for better or worse?”

The set scores laughs from a more liberal, secular crowd of Manhattanites but the content might upset many conservative Christians in flyover states and the Bible Belt. Isaacs says that when she has performed the show in churches in the South, some people have been offended and walked out.

While the production explains the Christian gospel and even quotes Bible passages from Job to Jeremiah, it is also peppered with profanity and addresses risqué themes such as menstruation and masturbation. The mixing of sacred and profane is pointedly irreverent.

“There’s nothing funny in the Bible, except the stuff that’s unintentionally funny,” Issacs quips. “Like when Joshua climbs a mountain of foreskins.”

Is there anything redeemable about a show in which a Christian woman who describes herself as a former “Lutheran slut” pokes fun at faith? Isaacs certainly thinks so.

“Christians seem to have a difficult time with satire because they feel they are ridiculing God himself or they are being sacrilegious,” she says. “But satire uses humor to expose fallacies and brokenness and raise important questions.”

While Isaac is admittedly edgier than other comics who are Christian, she’s not alone in believing religious comedy can serve a higher purpose.

Jon Acuff is a New York Times bestselling author of books on business and leadership, but he first gained prominence with a satirical blog and book titled, “Stuff Christians Like.” One of his more popular posts makes light of how some Christians raise their hands in church services. He explores 10 ways worshippers lift their appendages, including “The Ninja,” “The Single Hand Salute,” and one with “hands tilted at a 47 degree angle as if someone visiting your house warming party is about to hand you a delicious pound cake.”

Acuff says, “To use satire to explore religion is to admit that some of it is weird or to admit you’re still learning or to admit that you have doubts.”

Satire, which he defines as “humor with a purpose,” is different than aimless and vicious mockery. The latter is a “short cut to a laugh that removes one’s ability to speak the truth in love” and something he says the Bible condemns. Satire also has boundaries, so Acuff says he stays away from jokes about more sensitive theological matters such as communion or Easter. Not every South Park-style joke is beneficial in his view; each person has to negotiate their own personal boundaries.