Today’s example is Beliefnet’s “Crashing God’s State Dinner,” which uses the antics of the party-crashing Salahis to reinforce standard dogma about Jesus:

Thank God the King of the Universe doesn’t have such boundaries around him. The Bible says that God has an open air policy in the “Oval Office” of heaven. Once we’re given a pass – the Bible says that coming to God in “Jesus’ Name” gives us that access – we can waltz in like we own the place. We’re children of the King after all. We do “own the place” so to speak. We can come to God in prayer like party crashers approaching God as if we’re “old buddies.”

As a public service to any religion writers who might read my blog, here are some equally topical column suggestions:

Hacking into God’s Climate Data Server:

Thank God the King of the Universe doesn’t try to subvert the peer review process.

A 31-Month Affair With God’s Cocktail Waitress:

The Bible says that God has an “open bedroom” policy in the “cocktail lounge” of heaven.

Obama to Send 30,000 More Troops to God’s Afghanistan:

Once we’re given a pass – the Bible says that coming to God in “Jesus’ Name” gives us that access – we can waltz in like we own the place. We’re children of the King after all. We do “own the place” so to speak.

Meredith Baxter, Mom on “Family Ties,” is God’s Lesbian:

We can come to God in prayer like former sitcom stars approaching God as if we’re “old lesbians.”

Hopefully this advice is useful and can help a few religion columnists survive the next round or two of layoffs.

1. Fail to predict your best friend / employer’s sudden death:

He never thought he’d be CEO material.

And yet here he is, running the 6-year-old John Entwistle Foundation, working every day to get musical instruments into the hands of poor and sick kids.

“If you want to make God laugh,” Luongo said, “tell him your plans.”

Then again, Luongo never predicted Entwistle would die so unexpectedly in 2002. When that happened, Luongo found himself without a job and without his best friend.

And without a purpose, too.

That’s when he got the idea for the foundation.

2. Expect to have a healthy child:

Garrett is 13 now and though he still doesn’t have his words, therapy has helped him to communicate with his family and he has learned to ski. He continues to undergo behavioral, speech and occupational therapy.

“Things that you once thought would be accomplished at that age; it’s completely different when they hit that age,” said Carolyn Robb. “If you want to make God laugh, tell him you have plans.”

3. Assume that your father won’t need emergency heart surgery during your ultramarathon:

How’s the saying go: “Want to make God laugh? Tell him about your plans.”

This was to be the year I really crushed it. My plans were to head out to Death Valley a week in advance of the event to heat acclimatize, something I’d never done before. Well, a day before my scheduled departure, my father goes in for a routine procedure and discovers he needs urgent heart surgery.

4. Get unexpectedly killed in the WTC collapse:

Mychal Judge, chaplain of New York City’s fire department who was among those killed in the collapse of the World Trade Center on September 11th, was fond of the saying “if you want to make God laugh, tell Him what you’re doing tomorrow.”

Perhaps writing a funny book wasn’t actually the right approach.

You may be asking yourself why someone would want to be an “examiner” rather than, say, writing his own blog. And the answer appears to be that writing as an “examiner” gets you included in Google News.

This means that my “air france luck” alert brings me back “news” sources like the Rochester Christian Living Examiner, informing me that

Long before we were even born, God appointed us a certain number of days on earth, and when he calls us home, we’re going.

It means that my “h1n1 rationality” alert brings me back the Salt Lake Spirituality Examiner, insisting that germ-related prohibitions on touching your churchmates represent “[t]he age-old battle between science or fact and religion or belief.”

It means that my “religion chuck-e-cheese” alert gets me the DC Women’s Relationship Examiner, advising that religion “is one of those really tricky things” and that religious differences should be resolved in favor of whoever “feels stronger.”

And it means my “moon menstrual permission” alert gets me the SF Astrology Examiner complaining that the scientists behind a lunar probe didn’t “talk to the moon” or “[a]sk her permission” before crash-landing their orbiter.

How these are more “news”-worthy than my Ten Stupid Things Smart Christians Believe or my How to Teach Kids about God and Genocide or my Religious Joke to End all Religious Jokes is a bit beyond me.

Nonetheless, if I need to start espousing predestination, advocating pandemic-facilitating practices, describing religion as “tricky,” or appearing bat-shit insane in order to qualify as “news,” I can do that. I mean, “god has trickily appointed that (when I’m not sneezing on my friends or lecturing pigeons about economics) I will do that.”