36/CHRONICLESnA professor in the department ofnAfro-American studies at the Universitynof Massachusetts at Amherst, Lesternconverted to Judaism in 1983. A metaphysicalnprodigal son, Lester would saynhe simply came home — after a hazardousnjourney, at that.nThe intellectual odyssey of this minister’snson started in the 1940’s South,nwhen as a child he discovered that onenof his great-grandfathers, namednAltschul, was a German Jewish immigrantnwho married an ex-slave.nAs a boy, Lester recalls playing thenmelody to the Kol Nidre on a piano,nignorant of its significance but drawn tonits haunting refrain. For his 12th Christmas,nhis mother presented him with anvolume of Shakespeare’s plays. Readingn”The Merchant of Venice,” he identifiednwith Shylock.n”Yet in Shylock, I see myself as I donnot in Du Bois, Johnson, LangstonnHughes, Robeson or any other blacknfigure. Is it because they are models ofnsuccess and I need a model of suffering,nsomeone to reflect a child’s pain andnconfusion at being condemned becausenof the race into which I was born,nsomeone whose anger at outrageousninjustice gives me permission to benangry and through that anger to defendnmy soul? Or is it simply that throughnShylock I learn that blacks are not thenonly people in the world who mustnponder in their flesh the meaning ofnmeaningless suffering?”nThat a 12-year-old was preoccupiednwith such thoughts is understandable,ngiven the times and circumstances.nThere was pain in Lester’s boyhood, thenmortification of seeing his proud fathernhumiliated by service station attendantsn(“Fill ‘er up, boy?”), averting his gaze asnhe passed white women, lest they thinknhe was leering and invoke the horrors ofnthe lynch mob. Indignation led to involvementnin the Civil Rights strugglen(when he was a student at Fisk Universitynin Nashville) and eventually the blacknpower movement, via the ironically misnamednStudent Non-Violent CoordinatingnCommittee.nJulius Lester, author of “Look Out,nWhitey! Black Power’s Con’ Cet YournMama!” — the ultimate black machonflash which became the movement’snmanifesto.nJulius Lester who hosted a blackconsciousnessntalk show on WBAI-FMnin New York, in the late 60’s.nJulius Lester who, during the city’sn1968 teachers’ strike, permitted a guestnto read on the air an anti-Semitic poemnby a black schoolchild, which earnednhim the distinction of being the JewishnDefense League’s first target.nJulius Lester the radical, who wantednto save the world through political action,nbut—like countless pilgrims whonpreceded him — soon perceived thatnideology is graven image, unable toncomfort or heal.nParalleling his political developmentnis a spiritual quest. Having rediscoverednGod, after the typical collegiate flingnwith atheism, Lester wonders how hencan “live in holiness.” His search leadsnhim to a Cistercian monastery whichnonce sheltered Thomas Merton, thenTaos Pueblo, the site of a Shaker communitynat Pleasant Hill, Kentucky, andnother religious landmarks across thencountry.nNone of it seems quite right. Perhapsnit’s an ancestral call, but gradually, overnthe years, he grows closer to Judaism:nstudying it, defending Jews against attacksnby black militants (he’s the authornof a 1979 Village Voice piece onnAndrew Young’s dismissal as UN ambassador,nrebuking black leaders forntheir condemnation of Jews over thenaffair), feeling its emotional tug.nStill there’s a reluctance to go all thenway, theologically. “For the rest of mynlife, do I want to hear people say, ‘Gee,nyou don’t look Jewish,’ thinking theynare being clever and witty? Do I wantnto be an object of curiosity, a side shownfreak: Julius Lester, former black militant,nformer anti-Semite, becomes anJew? I would be less odd if I grewnanother head.”nSuch understandable apprehensionsnare overcome by a need frankly, yetneloquently, stated: “Why do I want tonbe a Jew? The answer is simple: I amntired of feeling guilty for not being innsynagogue on Rosh Hashanah andnYom Kippur. I am tired of feeling lostnon the first night of Passover. I am tirednof feeling jealous when I see Jewsngoing to or coming from synagogue.”nLester is drawn to the faith of Israelnby what he terms its “curious mixturenof the rational and the mystical.” Henexalts in Judaism’s ability to sanctify thenmundane, to imbue everyday activitiesnwith holiness, by blessings and commandmentsnwhich raise eating, observingnthe wonders of nature, even per­nnnforming bodily functions to a spiritualnplane.nHe rejoices in the Shabbat in whichnparticipants — by abstaining fromnwork, through prayers and memorialsn— recall that man is a transient on thisnearth, that life and everything in itnbelong to the Creator. This is thenspiritual focus he has hungered for sonlong, his own method of “living innholiness.”nWith a greater understanding of thencreed than most born to it, Lesternaffirms: “I choose and I am chosen. Inchoose to accept responsibility for thenSabbath. I choose to accept responsibilitynfor bringing Cod into the worldnonce a week.n”The unseen soul is as real as whatnis seen. That experience enters historynwith the Jews. To guard and embodynthat experience with attentiveness tonthe nuances and intricacies of holinessnis the Jew’s task. It is that for whichnGod chose Jews.”nThe Talmud teaches that along withnthe Hebrews of the Exodus the souls ofnevery Jew to come (the convert as wellnas those to be born to Israel) stood atnSinai to accept the law. A decadenbefore his conversion, a monk at anTrappist monastery in Spencer, Massachusetts,ntold Lester: “When younknow the name by which God knowsnyou, you will know who you are.” Thatnname, Lester learned, is Yaakov Danielnben Avraham v’Sarah, as he is called tonthe Torah at Saturday morning services,nand as he is known in Israel.nDon Feder is a writer for the BostonnHerald and a syndicated columnist.nAristotle Shruggednby Charles R. La DownEducating for Virtue, edited bynJoseph Baldacchino, Washington,nDC: National Humanities Institute.n”There are two kinds of mind in thenworld: the Platonic and the Aristotelian,”ngoes an academic aphorism. Tonwhatever degree this mental divisionnmay have been real, the Aristoteliansnseem to be practically extinct—thenessayists in Educating for Virtue must,nessentially, be Platonists. The key ton