Those who seek it may find religious solace in the most unexpected places, but few would think to look in a hostile, sterile office environment -- let alone in an INS-style interrogation. Part of what's fascinating about A Traveling Jewish Theatre's "Opening to You" derives from that kind of unexpected originality. Much of the intense pleasure also comes from the skills of the performers and beauty of the language.

Conceived and directed by company cofounder Corey Fischer, "Opening" is a dramatic interpretation and exploration of the biblical book of Psalms, based on the recently published new translation by Zen Buddhist priest Norman Fischer (no relation to the director). Corey Fischer and his cast have mixed in stories from their lives and family lore that personalizes the material and lends it dramatic shape and substance.

"Opening" opened Monday at the beginning of an unusually busy week for the 23-year-old company. A revival of "God's Donkey," its 2000 piece about Moses (also directed by Fischer), opened Tuesday in Washington, D.C. Its hit production of "The Chosen," adapted from Chaim Potok's novel -- staged by new artistic director Aaron Davidman, who co-created and performs in "God's Donkey" -- reopens its extended run Thursday at the Magic Theatre.

The new piece features a new look for the company, framing one of the group's more unique forms of storytelling -- in which evocative associations emerge through implied emotional, musical or thematic connections rather than straightforward narrative. Giulio Cesare Perrone's set is a Wooster Group-like construct of suspended mesh screens and elongated tables covered with stacks of paper, with the floor and walls painted a broad black-and-white checkerboard pattern that dissolves in the distance.

Lights and the ropes and pulleys that raise and lower the screens and tables are in full view, making an intensely focused stage manager, Jessica Jelliffe, an important part of the action. Composer Daniel Hoffman performs onstage, his rich guitar, violin and percussion score adding emotional depth and interacting with the actors (the show begins with a nasty interrogation of his oud, a type of lute).

The key to Fischer's approach is a conception of the Psalms as poetry in search of God (the "You" of the title) by oppressed people in exile. Seeking to ground that quest in an accessibly modern foundation, he cast actors with experiences of marginalization, displacement or oppression -- disabled activist-performer David Roche, South Asian immigrant Annie Kunjappy (artistic director of Strangefruit Theatre Ensemble) and African American actor Lee Williams, later replaced by Rhonnie Washington -- all of whose personal and family stories are interwoven in the text.

The setup is an office staffed by three bored, paper-pushing interrogators - - each of whom at some point receives guitar-telephone instructions to grill one of the others. Robotic, repetitive movement passages etch the depersonalized atmosphere. Harsh, staccato questioning yields moving and painful tales.

Roche describes his anguish at being probed and examined as an object by doctors and medical students, even while secretly welcoming the rare luxury of a gentle touch. Washington re-creates a child's humiliation at the drinking fountains in segregated Texas and tells heart-wrenching tales of slavery and of a visit to the ruins of Nagasaki. Kunjappy's immigration hearing climaxes in a searing visual image of the brutality of interrogation.

Norman Fischer's beautifully plain-spoken translations give lyrical voice to the anguish and anger of the dispossessed: "I am envious of the high and mighty"; "I will be careful lest I err with my tongue"; "How can we sing our songs on stranger's soil?" Fugue-like arrangements of shards of Psalms alternate with extended passages -- some compellingly sung in Washington's resonant baritone, one expressed by Kunjappy in flowing sign language.

"Opening" has its slow passages and some that don't quite connect, especially in the early scenes. But its tales of grief and dispossession create a deep connection with an audience seeking answers in troubled times, and its resolute quest for faith and for solace develops a moving momentum as David Robertson's stark lighting gives way to golden glows. In the end, "Opening" moves through anger at injustice to praise for the glories of nature and of life itself. In its resolution, it resonates with common chords of humanity and joy.