We seem to be maybe, finally, oh so slowly going through a sea change on lesbian and gay rights. Cultural acceptance -- incomplete still, of course -- came first, and it seems like maybe political and religious acceptance may follow.

We have not repented of the torture that we facilitated after 1993 and implemented after 2001. Because we have not repented, we are all the more at risk of doing the exact same thing under new conditions or a new president.

In the days since two deadly bombs and the separate shootings that followed brought Boston to a standstill, the region's Muslim community has loudly c...

Forgive me, Mother Ocean, for I have sinned. It has been, well, forever since my last ocean confession.

Might Lent be reimagined as a season of joy? Yes, but only if we rethink "sin" and "repentance."

The beginning of our Lenten journey is a unique one that marches us toward the cross and ultimately resurrection. Let us believe through faith that just as the dirt on David was removed, thanks to the love and mercy of God that a fallen humanity can also be scrubbed clean in the very same way.

Even though Armstrong was insistent on maintaining a big lie as part of his public persona, that doesn't mean that everything he said when shaking hands with somebody was a lie. It doesn't erase whatever gold medals kids were inspired to win after they heard Armstrong give a speech about beating cancer.

Perhaps my pondering on repentance during September led me to think of the sins that I've committed during the past year. I started wondering, could the Seven Deadly Sins could be reframed into something more positive?

No politician can heal our nation. It's going to require a much more tremendous transformation than that. If Christians become the people of humility and repentance that Jesus died to make us, then we will be able to contribute to the transformation that is necessary.

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.

Asking for forgiveness is an admittedly difficult task. After all, no one likes to admit to their own faults or shortcomings. However, asking for forgiveness is an essential aspect of the Jewish High Holidays.

It isn't easy to look in the mirror and see our own spiritual leprosy. If you do get a glimpse, don't turn away in disgust or shame. Remember, underlying life is a river of love and compassion.

The path to openness, to the teshuva we truly, deeply seek, begins with asking better questions, bigger questions.

Unlike Him, we do not have infinite capacity. We are failed deities. We try and we stumble, and we have few resources to fall back on. So we end up as I did, prostrated pathetically after the prayer, tears streaming from my cheeks.

Lent may be a season of forgiveness, but not the kind of warm and fuzzy forgiveness believers often associate with Jesus' teachings. Instead, forgiveness is a hard-won and distant hope.

The point of the Lenten fast, for us, is not really about what we give up. It is about what we are supposed to do when we feel ourselves wanting what we have told ourselves we should not have.

Groups like the Southern Baptist Convention and Campus Crusade are ready to move past the poor names that have defined them in the past. But how we should receive these name changes?

Is it really such a healthy thing to feel oneself to be inadequate, judged and deficient? Does it make us better people, or does it make us more judgmental ourselves? And does God judge us, or only love?

I love to eat and do not enjoy being hungry, but I have come to realize that there is a lot to be learned from fasting.

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."

True repentance means asking forgiveness for all transgressions, both those intended and unintended, and even from those wrong-doings of which a person is not even wholly aware.

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?