There’s nothing quite like sitting in a theatre, laughing your head off with the rest of the audience while quietly wondering whether you’ve just committed a mortal sin.

In fairness, I was thoroughly enjoying myself, albeit with a slightly guilty conscience and wondering whether my dear old dad was watching down on me.

You see, I recently went to The Book Of Mormon in Perth with my 22-year-old daughter. She’s perfectly capable of independent thought, of course, but I did have a fleeting moment when I wondered whether taking your daughter to a show this irreverent was necessarily part of responsible parenting.

I should also probably mention that I grew up in a fairly staunch Catholic household and was even a former altar boy. So I’ve had my fair share of incense, holy water and being told to behave myself during Mass.

I’m not sure Father Lynch, our parish priest, would ever have envisaged that one of his former altar boys would grow up to happily sit through The Book Of Mormon, but such is life.

That’s the thing about satire: you have to recognise it for what it is. Nobody is asking you to sign up to the theology, and nobody should be taking every outrageous line as a serious theological argument.

For those who haven’t seen it, The Book Of Mormon was created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the geniuses behind South Park, along with composer Robert Lopez. If you’ve ever watched South Park, you’ll know that subtlety, political correctness and respect for sacred cows aren’t necessarily their strong suit.

The musical takes aim at the Mormon faith with some wonderfully outrageous humour. And then there’s the song Hasa Diga Eebowai.

I mentioned the show to someone in my family, who suggested they probably couldn’t sit through it, particularly after hearing about that particular number. I’m tipping that when they discovered what the Ugandan characters were actually saying in English, they may have needed resuscitating!

Let’s just say you really do need a broad sense of humour for this show. And perhaps an understanding that satire is allowed to be uncomfortable. That’s kind of the point.

One of the things I particularly loved was the opening sequence, where the young Mormon missionaries enthusiastically practise their door-to-door sales pitch, complete with perfectly rehearsed smiles, immaculate presentation and doorbell routine.

It’s brilliant.

What I also really enjoyed was the response from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

You might imagine that a religious organisation being lampooned in front of packed theatres around the world would be reaching for its lawyers.

Not these guys.

Church leaders chose not to appear thin-skinned or defensive. Instead, they took a wonderfully pragmatic approach, placing advertisements in theatre programs saying, “You’ve seen the show, now read the book”.

I thought that was a fantastic response.

It’s difficult to argue with a sense of humour, particularly when it’s directed at you. And there’s something rather admirable about being confident enough in your beliefs to allow other people to have a laugh at your expense.

Of course, Australians have always had a fairly healthy appetite for taking the micky out of just about everything. Politicians, sporting heroes, celebrities and religious institutions are all fair game. I’ve personally been the butt of plenty of lighthearted jokes, and it clearly hasn’t affected me — well, not much anyway.

Aussies tend to get suspicious when anyone takes themselves too seriously.

Perhaps that’s why The Book Of Mormon works so well. It takes something deeply personal to many people and turns it into a spectacularly outrageous theatrical experience.

The clever thing is that underneath all the jokes, the creators have a rather interesting message. They’ve argued that the musical is ultimately pro-religion, in the sense that it recognises the human need for hope, meaning and something to believe in. Whether that belief is God, a higher purpose, Star Wars or even Broadway musicals, people find comfort and purpose in all sorts of places.

And the Australian cast is absolutely fantastic. The energy, the performances and the sheer commitment to the material make it one of the most entertaining shows in town.

So, what did I take away from The Book Of Mormon?

An entertaining night out, a new appreciation for the ability of the Mormon community to laugh at itself, and a reminder that you don’t have to agree with someone to respect them.

Yes, you might squirm. You might laugh inappropriately or even snort, and you might find yourself questioning a few things you’ve taken for granted.

But that’s what good satire should do, isn’t it?

And if a former Catholic altar boy can sit through The Book Of Mormon with his adult daughter and thoroughly enjoy it, there’s probably hope for the rest of us.

And if my dear old dad is watching down on me, I hope he’s having a laugh, too.