WHY do Baptists object to fornication? Because they're afraid it might lead to dancing. Or try this one for size. The priest says to the rabbi: ''When are you going to relax a bit and enjoy a bit of pork?'' The rabbi replies laconically: ''On your wedding day.''

Then there's the story of the rabbi who was complaining about how many of his flock were becoming Quakers. His fellow rabbi agreed: ''Some

of my best Jews are Friends,'' he said.

Is it legitimate to make fun of religion? And is making fun of God the ultimate no-no? (H L Mencken once described God as ''the only comedian whose audience is afraid to laugh''.) This is the territory this intrepid column seeks to enter today, at its peril.

Raising this question at a time when the world seems to be full of crazed religious buggers carrying around cruise missiles or envelopes full of anthrax spores may not be entirely prudent. These are times when a humble jobbing satirist can be transported straight to the happy-hunting ground for making a wee joke about Jerusalem, or Jesus Christ, or Allah.

And I think that's a shame. So help me God.

In the post-September 11 situation, when the world's nerves are jangling, questioning the war out loud becomes an act of treason - especially if you are a New Labour back bencher - and people tread around religious territory as if it were a fire-walk. Nothing must be said which might offend Muslims, Christians, or Jews. To do these things is to risk the wrath of people who believe God has appointed them to

execute his will, with the emphasis on the word ''execute''.

The warning lights should be flashing. Times of war and national crisis are historically times when individual civil liberties are suspended. Now, dear God, we are to have legislation to crack down on religious hatred. The intentions of the proponents of this legislation are entirely honourable, but the move is full of danger.

When is a statement an expression of bigotry, and when is it an honest disagreement? Which members of the thought police will make that decision? There is a serious danger nowadays that anyone who has strong convictions which conflict with the current consensus will be labelled a bigot.

The churches are, by and large, preposterous institutions. The sight of decrepit geezers in frocks laying down the law about the minutiae of sexual behaviour is beyond parody. Churches can also be kindly institutions. An immense amount of social work is done by churches. And there are church groups which will care for people whom no-one else will touch.

Churches can also be dangerous, especially when they are utterly convinced that they are doing the will of God. Consider Jerry Falwell, the American TV evangelist, who has announced that the twin-towers atrocities occurred because God was angry at American tolerance of gays. Subliminal message to gays: we know where you live.

Will making a serious critique of Christians, Muslims, and Jews be a hanging offence under the proposed legislation? No. But there is a danger that under an illiberal regime, this kind of law will be used oppressively. I have argued in this column that Islam is a much richer and more sophisticated faith than the stereotypes allow. Nevertheless, some of the statements in the Koran and in Islamic law are ferocious. To refrain from saying this is less than truthful.

Similarly, Judaism is a faith with many virtues. Yet some of its scriptures can be used by Jewish zealots to justify kicking Palestinian ass around the West Bank, and attempting to redraw territorial boundaries to coincide with ancient biblical maps.

Christianity can produce lives of genuinely heroic quality, but some of its foundational texts can be read as justifying ethnic cleansing. No amount of intellectual handstands can get away from all of this.

Is it offensive to point all this out? If it is, then tough. Quite a number of religious devotees have turned taking offence into an art form. What maddens

people more than anything is satire, because it gets under the skin. Laughter is a subversive activity in times of crisis, and is much feared by despots.

Even if it's okay to laugh at religious institutions, surely laughing at God should be a punishable offence? Some people are now arguing that the law of blasphemy should be extended to cover Allah. It shouldn't - it should be abolished altogether. The notion that God needs Ian Paisley, or anyone else, to defend him is preposterous. What we need are changed hearts and minds, not more legislation.

The post-modern satirist is in line with the Old Testament prophets, some of whom - like Socrates - were regarded as atheists because they challenged the consensual understanding of the divine. They saw that there were people who knew more about God than God knew about himself, and that such people were a danger.

Very few things in life should be taken utterly seriously. Most of what we think we know turns out to be a form of idolatry. ''Relate thyself relatively to the relative, and absolutely to the Absolute'' is Kierkegaard's wise verdict.

Or, as the shaken bishop told his priests: ''The good news is that I spoke to God today and everything is okay. The bad news is that she called from Salt Lake City.''