Spiritual Reflection, September 2024

As a young violinist, I was always attracted to the famous musician Efrem Zimbalist (Sr.). Not only did this Russian-American virtuoso share my first name (!), but he eventually presided over the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia, where I fantasized (futilely) that I might one day study. Many famous Russian Jewish musicians converted to Christianity, often to gain appointments in otherwise off-limits Russian orchestras and musical institutions. Zimbalist himself became an Anglican Christian after he departed from Russia. He moved to England in 1907 and was baptized, then became active in the Episcopal Church when he moved to the US. His son, Efrem Zimbalist Jr., attended an Episcopal school and became a well-known movie and television actor (anybody remember the shows 77 Sunset Strip and The F. B. I.?). He later worked for the Trinity Broadcasting Network and was an active member of the more conservative Anglican Church until his death in 2014. 

While both of his parents were Jewish, Zimbalist Jr. once commented that Jewishness was not part of his family life. For all his Episcopalian habits and despite his son’s move into more fervent conservative Christianity, Zimbalist Sr held to a relatively broad Christian commitment. His own conversion was influenced, in fact, by a Jewish patron, the American soap magnate Joseph Fels. Fels had moved to Britain to promote his radical economic-political vision and had taken the young Zimbalist under his wing. Though Jewish, Fels held to a larger humanistic vision of social welfare. He once quipped, “In my opinion, the mission of the Jews in the world is to teach Christians Christianity.” This vision struck Zimbalist. In his performing and teaching, he transferred it to his sense of artistic humanism. Music became the means of fostering a universal reorientation toward God in a posture of common reconciliation. Jesus was not only about justice but about the transforming power of divine Beauty. I have listened to old recordings, and Zimbalist’s playing was sublime. In case you are wondering, there is no moral to this story—only a measure of puzzled thanks for the grace of God. 

Ephraim Radner