Can’t be sure right now, because the Georgia House still hasn’t voted on it, but it looks like the legislation allowing grocery stores to (gasp!) sell beer and wine on Sundays (gasp!) will make its way to Gov. Nathan Deal’s desk for his signature.

Score one for liberty and one against theocrats such as Jerry Luquire, president of the Georgia Christian Coalition. Oh, and a “sorry ’bout that” to the liquor stores that wanted the government to protect them from competition.

Now that Luquire and the Southern Baptist Convention have taken it on the chin on Sunday sales, where will they try to advance the cause of theocracy next?

I’m actually hoping for the old prayer-in-schools gambit. You know this one, I’m sure. This is where the theocrats will tell you that the Supreme Court outlawed prayer in our government (public) schools. Sorry, never happened. There has never been a federal court ruling that people can not pray in a government school. They have ruled that schools could not actually lead or organize those prayers, which is perfectly appropriate.

The very act of the government leading citizens — children in this case — in prayer has the distinct taste of the government establishing a favored religion. Not good. But as some very wise person once said: As long as there are math tests there will be prayer in schools.

Several years ago the light bulb above my head went off and I finally clearly understood the real motives of the prayer-in-school crowd. Keep reading and you will soon see your own bulb.

Let’s think about the people who push for prayer in our schools. They are deeply religious, no doubt, and that is generally an admirable trait. Admirable, that is, right up to the point that they figure their religion is just perfect for your spiritual needs.

Consider the prayer-in-school advocate’s relationship with his or her own children. You would certainly expect that such a religious person could pray with his or her own children at the beginning of each day. Perhaps another quick prayer before the corn flakes and toast are gulped down, and a quick entreaty to God as the child steps out the door and heads to the school bus. The child would know that he could bow his head in silent prayer at any time during the school day and especially before eating a school lunch. When the child got home, our devoutly religious parent could set aside a few minutes for Scripture reading, then out to play! Another prayer before the evening meal, and then once again with the “Now I lay me down to sleep” thing before bed.

The point? If you feel so strongly about your religion, then you are going to take every opportunity to share your feelings with your child daily.

So, what’s the big problem here? Why all the effort to “return prayer to the schools” when prayer is perfectly legal there anyway, and your own child is rapidly approaching prayer overload?

Now I see the filaments starting to glow. You’re beginning to understand. It’s not really their children they’re worried about, is it now? Not at all. They’re not worried about their child. They’re worried about yours. They are praying with their children in the morning, but are you? They pray with their children before bedtime, but do you? Clearly you can’t be trusted to ingrain the proper Christian beliefs in your own children, so it is left up to those more devout than you to take up the slack. And where to do that? Why, at the only place where the children are out from under your control, and potentially under theirs. The good old neighborhood government school.

Lights on!

Now before bedtime tonight, lead your children in a prayer that God won’t let good Christians buy wine on Sunday.

Listen to Neal Boortz live from 8:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. weekdays on AM 750 and now 95.5FM News/Talk WSB.

His column appears every Saturday. For more Boortz, go to boortz.com