I Would Choose Today

Headshot of Rabbi Adam Greenwald
Headshot of Rabbi Adam Greenwald
Rabbi Adam Greenwald

Director

Miller Introduction to Judaism Program

American Jewish University

Rabbi Adam Greenwald is the Director of the Miller Introduction to Judaism Program at American Jewish University, the largest learning program for those exploring conversion to Judaism in North America. He also serves as Lecturer in Rabbinics at the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies. In 2016, Rabbi Greenwald received the Covenant Foundation's Pomegranate Prize in Jewish Education.

Rabbi Greenwald is the editor of On One Foot, an introduction to Judaism textbook and curriculum, in wide use across the US and Canada. He is a Fellow with the National Center for Learning and Leadership (CLAL)'s "Rabbis Without Borders" initiative and speaks and teaches nationwide on issues of conversion, inclusion, and engagement of Jewish millennials.

Prior to coming to the Intro Program, he served as Revson Rabbinic Fellow at IKAR, one of America's most innovative spiritual communities. He received his BA in History from UCLA and his MA and ordination from the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies in 2011. 

posted on January 17, 2020

V’ani tefilati l’cha Adonai eit ratzon

“And I stand before you, O Lord, at this chosen moment.”

- Psalms 69:14



Less than twenty-four hours before he would be killed by an assassin’s bullet, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr

took the podium at Bishop Charles Mason Temple in Memphis and delivered a stirring speech to a packed

audience made up mostly of striking sanitation workers. The address is primarily remembered today for his

eerily prophetic final lines: “God has brought me to the mountaintop, and I have seen the Promised Land. I

may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get there … Mine eyes

have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”



However, in re-reading the great man’s words, I was struck by a lesser-known section at the very beginning

of the speech. In it, King muses on the question of what he would say were God to offer him the

extraordinary opportunity to live in any moment in history. He says that he would have liked to witness the

Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, to have spoken with philosophers in Greece, and to have seen the glory

of Rome. He would have wished to briefly visit the Renaissance for the art, and to have met Lincoln and

Roosevelt in our country’s darkest hours. But he concludes: “Strangely enough, I would turn to the Almighty

and say, "If you allow me to live just a few years in the second half of the twentieth century, I will be happy."

King lived in a time and place that, on its surface, was hardly the best of all possible worlds. He was

confronted every day by the ugliness of racial hatred and a brutal level of violence that claimed many lives,

including, eventually, his own. There were police dogs and fire hoses and the Klan and the FBI and his own

long days in a Birmingham prison cell. Every day was a struggle and the outcome of the fight for true

equality was (and remains) perilously uncertain. If given the choice, why of all moments would King have

chosen to accept the difficult destiny that fate had assigned him?



To this question, he said: “I know that it's only when it is dark enough that one can see the stars. And, I see

God working in this period of history and human beings are, in some strange way, responding… [and] I am

happy that God allowed me to live right now, so I can see what is unfolding.”



My challenge, as we mark what would have been Dr. King’s 91st birthday, is whether I can look at the world

in which we live with the same degree of gratitude and moral resolve. We too live in hard times – an era of

political division, of mass shootings, of profound distrust, of the looming, existential threat of climate change.

Yet, King challenges us to recognize that even in such times, especially in such times, it is a privilege to be

part of the struggle for goodness to prevail. To see the present darkness, as Valerie Kaur, the Sikh activist,

documentarian, and faith leader teaches, as the darkness of the womb, not the darkness of the tomb. To

recognize that this moment is our eit ratzon, our Divinely sanctioned moment, to muster all our spiritual,

moral, individual, and communal resources to drive out the darkness and let shine the stars.