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On the Saturday before Rosh Hashanah at the stroke of midnight, it is customary to gather in the synagogue for special Selichot services. These are prayers of supplication that move the congregation, inspired by the dramatic mood of midnight, to think soberly about their spirituality and the purpose of living.

A beautiful legend in the Talmud says: "A harp was always suspended above the bed of King David. As soon as the hour of midnight struck, a north wind came and blew upon it and it played itself beautiful melodies. Upon being awakened, King David would begin to pray and study the Torah" (Berakhot3b).

As the hour of midnight comes, and as the winds of chance play upon us and the lovely liturgical music is chanted, we are stirred to rise in prayer and reflect upon our sacred teachings. The symbolism is most fitting, for the whole world can be seen as an orchestra and each of us an instrument in it.

We can decide to live in discord or in harmony. We can choose to play out our lives in futile improvising or create a song of faith. We can begin by listening to the score of great emotions and read the libretto of a magnificent liturgy and be inspired to turn our lives into instruments of goodness. For after a genuine religious service the song may be over, but the melody lingers on.

Another tradition of midnight revelation is found in the masquerade balls staged by 18th- and 19th-century European aristocracy. Everyone came disguised as someone else. At the stroke of midnight, all the guests unmasked, and the face of each was revealed.

Some who had come disguised as kings turned out to be commoners, while others who dressed as peasants were revealed to be princes.

There are times when every man and woman asks in his or her heart what life signifies. While during the course of the year we may evade the truth, there are moments when we cannot avoid it.

"There comes a midnight hour," says a Swedish theologian, "when everyone must unmask." No one is exempt from this type of soul-searching. During these instances, we must face the truth about ourselves, for no person wears a mask in the presence of God.

A Jew once hurried past his rabbi on Selichot. The rabbi asked him, "Why are you hurrying?"

"Well," the Jew said, "I must look in the Machzor and put my prayers in order."

"The prayerbook is the same as it was last year," replied the rabbi. "It would be far better for you to look into your deeds and put yourself in order."

The moral of this story is that the hardest people to reach with God's love are the good people, the self-righteous people. We are often so complacent about ourselves that we cannot imagine any flaws in our character.

The purpose of reading a prayerbook is to evaluate ourselves in light of its contents, rather than use it as an escape from our lives. We must be willing to concentrate on our own selves if religion is to help us straighten out our lives. This self-scrutiny takes a lifetime, and it is never-ending.

Prayer, self-examination and thoughtfully considering one's existence are part of a complicated process and must be approached slowly and carefully. On Selichot we become aware of this important spiritual exercise.

There is an interesting parallel to be found in the North American defense system. In 1957, three radar fields were put into operation near the Arctic Circle and the system was called DEW line, which stands for Distant Early Warning. The purpose of this system was to alert the United States to any hostile object or force headed its way.

Our forces would thus have additional time in which to set up defenses.

In a similar manner, Selichot comes as a Distant Early Warning to signal hostile acts, angry words or thoughtless deeds that may potentially hurt us. They can be neutralized through understanding, forgiveness, honest confrontation and prayer. Prayer is more than just words; it is feeling, it is meditation, it is listening, it is memories, it is study, it is identifying with tradition.

It is a total experience.

The late Rabbi Louis Feinberg put it well when he said, "The Selichot prayers strike so universal a note that most of them remain significant as devotional literature, regardless of the flight of time and the change of circumstances."