Acknowledging the tenth anniversary of the Iraq invasion seems at once crucial and meaningless. The Iraq war is "over" but in fact it has just moved elsewhere. How do we get the poison out of our system? As long as it's present, we'll go to war again.
Due to one of those odd coincidences, theater at the moment seems to be about chairs. Rowan Atkinson sits in a relatively comfy one throughout the flawless revival of Simon Gray's Quartermaine's Terms, at Wyndham's.
Anna Karenina, one of last year's most talked-about productions, is a product of a longstanding friendship between a director and his muse. The relationship between Knightley and Wright harks back to that 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Then came 2007's Atonement.
While I have never participated consistently in any form of organized Judaism, and while I cannot bring myself to believe in the magic of a "Book of Life" exactly, I am intrigued by Judaism's prescribed process for atonement.
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.
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.