The most powerful discussions I have in classrooms come from books. They move children to speak sincerely and emotionally, especially books with a story that engages their own beliefs, experiences, and thoughts. Sometimes the intensity of that connection is awe-filled, sometimes it 's awful.

I experienced moments of both recently in a religious school when I shared What a Truly Cool World (Scholastic, $15.95; ages 8 and up), a new creation story by Julius Lester. I plunged into the book without reading Lester's forward which describes how the book draws on the black storytelling traditions like Zora Neale Hurston's classic collection, Mules and Men. Lester also explains how his previous works have stayed true to that convention, but this book honors imagination "which is perhaps the truest way of being faithful to tradition." I didn't introduce Julius Lester as a thoughtful, moral, and religious man. A black man and son of a Methodist minister, Lester is now a practicing Jew, and teaches Judaic Studies at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst.

I just picked up A Truly Cool World and dove into its sassy story. In this Heaven, speech resembles street talk, angels are predominantly black, God is married, one angel challenges God constantly, while another wonders about God's first name. Lester took the standard concepts about the Heaven my students knew, and turned them upside down. He took a risk.

I took a risk, too, when I read this story in a predominately white classroom where children receive traditional religious training from an early age. The reception was silent and scary. Then the children began to risk. They didn't see the humor, found the book blasphemous, and were furious with the author. I listened and tried to explain Lester's intent. I backed up and read the forward. I spoke of his other works. But while they risked voicing their opinion, the children would not venture from the point of righteous and comfortable view they expressed.

I was so concerned with explaining Lester that I almost missed the book's gift. I knew something powerful was going on, but it wasn't until I went home and had time to think that I realized how the book had succeeded. I'd felt uncomfortable. The students were troubled. The book allowed the children an opportunity to passionately voice their beliefs, stand up for the God they knew so well, and fight against what they perceived as religious and racial wrongs. It opened an amazing can of worms where issues writhed and made us all squirm. I loved the controversy, but hated how they'd misjudged the book and Mr. Lester. I longed for a resolution.

The next day, I asked the children to come up with questions that I could take to Mr. Lester via internet. They welcomed the chance and asked important questions. "Why did you have people using slang when they addressed God?" "Why did you challenge God in this way?" "Don't you think you were turning your back on religion in this book?" Why were the angels more powerful than God?" "Why did you give God a wife?" "Why don't the angels respect God more?" "Why did you make God a black male?"

The gracious Mr. Lester answered each question seriously, eloquently, and in a way that was meaningful to the children. He described the book as very religious and true to the black story telling tradition in which "God is a figure with whom we can have fun. I think that God likes to laugh and that we seldom give him a chance to do so."

He described his use of slang as an idea introduced by his father who "addressed God in very informal language and it helped me feel close to God, as if God were someone I could talk to, that I didn't have to know a lot of fancy words in order to say, 'Hi, God. This is me and there's something I need to talk to you about.'"

He wrote to these students about laughter as a form of prayer, God needing a wife "because he must get lonely" , and the angels "pushing the boundaries in ways that are respectful, but filled with love."

After we read his answers, there was another silence. The powerful words of the book had provoked the strength of their passions. Now the powerful words of an author who demonstrated his willingness to take their concerns seriously moved them a second time. In the presence of Lester's intense honesty and compassion, the children were able to take the bigger risk. They opened their hearts and minds, considered his view seriously, began to question their own beliefs, and marveled at a different way of seeing.