I was recently asked to make a few introductory remarks before I led a shiva service at a house of mourning. At least half of the people in attendance would be non-Jews and unfamiliar with any Jewish mourning or worship practices. I frequently recoil from simply reciting parrot-like: "The Jewish mourning period begins with the seven days following the funeral....." The question is: Why?

I found myself saying that Jewish mourning provides a ritual structure to express shock, numbness and grief. Experiencing the death of a loved one, of someone central to our lives, overwhelms our souls - the holiness in our world is diminished when a human being, a reflection of the divine image, is now gone. Our world is smaller, less rich, less varied. We pray because no other words come to us. We live through our shock and as feeling returns we re-enter the world, certainly changed, but hopefully prepared to return to our daily tasks both mundane and great.

On the car ride home, I considered all of this and its larger context - Judaism, and what is central to Jewish thought and life. I decided that Judaism as religion really is a way to constantly consider and reconsider what it means to be a human being. That is what the Torah is about. That is what the rabbis are concerned with. How can we live with ourselves when we brood over what our lives are about? How can we live with our families? How can we live in societies? How do we confront our enemies? Everything is rooted in the question of what we mean when we say "person." Everything else is commentary. Judaism wants us to confront that question day and night.

There is no better time of year than the High Holy Days to consider these questions. This year, we will add something to our offerings that hopefully will help us in this quest. Last March, Carol Sweig, our extraordinary volunteer librarian, created an inspiring staged reading for a havdalah program based on I Am Jewish: Personal Reflections Inspired by the Last Words of Daniel Pearl, the book published in memory of the Wall Street Journal reporter who was brutally killed in Pakistan in 2002. It was an extraordinary evening. As I was so moved by the readings, I thought that there is something more here for all of us. I developed a plan.

As the holy days approach, beginning Labor Day weekend, which coincides nicely with the Hebrew month of Elul, we as a community will consider some of these readings-one each day -and the thought that inspires them. They will be posted on our Web site each day. We will have groups discuss them, the downtown study group and the Monday morning group as well as Shabbat afternoon groups and even Hebrew School carpool groups. Look for a schedule of discussion opportunities. Choose one that works for you.

We also will ask you to write your own responses to the statement, "I am Jewish," and we will collect them in a box in the lobby. We will consider them on Yom Kippur afternoon under Liz Lerman's guidance. Hopefully, all of this will help us approach the holy days with a greater sense of anticipation and depth of meaning and, perhaps, even a greater sense of community as we engage in the same challenge as our worshipping neighbors and Temple Micah friends.

Meanwhile, it is August-a precious month. Continue to read and think and, hopefully, relax.