In "Breaking Bad," every episode is a day of atonement, if not for each character as it often is, it is for me. I rarely walk away from watching an episode feeling ebullient.

As Jews worldwide mark the holiday that begins at sundown, my Facebook feed has been filling up with "friends" issuing blanket apologies to me and the rest of the Facebook for however they may have offended us.

Our tradition envisions that the gates of Divine Judgment close at Yom Kippur's end, necessitating reflection and atonement for our sins in the past. This year, I'll be adding to the list: for the sin we have committed against You by mindlessly reaping the benefits of slavery.

When those of us who have dedicated our lives to promoting a Godly vision of the world even appear to subvert others, we slowly (or immediately, depending on the gravity of the action) destroy that which we purport to elevate: God.

Why did Jesus have to die? Was it to appease a wrathful God's demand for punishment? Does that mean Jesus died to save us from God? How could someone ever truly love or trust a God like that?

We Christians have a remarkable talent for sticking our feet in our mouths. When searching the words most commonly associated with "Christian," the list ain't pretty.

This argument assumes God can't transcend our own moral limitations. Just because we may cry for justice and vengeance when we are wronged doesn't mean God will.

There's a problem with penal substitution. Biblical sacrifices do not represent human attempts to purchase forgiveness; instead, they offer a ritual means of acknowledging the costliness of sin and alienation from God.

Our tradition tells us: "For transgressions between one person and another, Yom Kippur does not serve as atonement, until the one offended has been appeased."

The blast of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah calls out to all of us: "Wake up! You have been sleeping!" The slumber is clear. The choice is ours. But to what is it that we awaken?

Even before the most recent economic crisis, we have allowed our children to see the devastation of our earth, of our country, of our Native Americans, of our poor people and of our sick people.

This isn't the first time that Mohler has spoken strongly of his belief that Jews need Christ to be saved. He once compared Judaism to a tumor that needed to be removed.

As Archbishop Desmond Tutu famously said, there is no future without forgiveness; we might add there is no livable present without the possibility of repairing the past.

Instead of piety, salvation, and politicized morality, many of us have embraced love and radical hospitality, and the two-fold commandment (love of God and love of neighbor) articulated by Jesus.

The Greeks have a word for the strange mixture of dispositions that characterizes the spirit of Great Lent; the notion is spoken of as "bright sadness" or "sorrowful joy."