I shook his hand twice, on two different occasions. I don’t recall what I might have said, but I hope it was something like, “Thank you! I’m grateful for your witness!” On both occasions, it was after the Sunday morning service at the Riverside Church in New York City. Martin Luther King, Jr. was the guest preacher, and as was the custom, greeted anyone coming forward after the benediction.

Those days I was working as a staff member for the church youth program, as part of my field work at Union Theological Seminary, right across the street from the church. Youth Department members had the option of sitting in the first two or three rows in the middle section of the sanctuary. We had prime seats every Sunday, usually just filing in after church school classes. We had easy first access to greeting King, before the line began to form in earnest.

Riverside was built by Rockefeller money in the late 1920s. The one caveat Rockefeller insisted on was that the first minister should be Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick. He had been the source of some conflict in his own Presbyterian community, as he preached a controversial sermon against fundamentalism. When asked, Fosdick agreed to serve Riverside with the qualification that it be: interdenominational (Baptist and United Church of Christ), interracial, and international. Still today, it bears those marks.

In the face of the challenges in Christianity today, what with the rise of Christian Nationalism, white sovereignty and unaffiliated congregations, those identity priorities of Riverside take on added significance. Imagine what a difference it would make in our society, if every Christian congregation make a commitment to be simply Protestant or Catholic, racially inclusive, and calling nations to surrender nationalism, working together for the common good.

And I can only imagine what impact it would have on our country, if more clergy had the vision and intellectual curiosity of a Harry Emerson Fosdick, or the willingness to actively and personally implement the Gospel like Martin Luther King.

One of my class requirements at Seminary included an opportunity to interview a person of some stature in the faith. I chose Fosdick. When I checked, I discovered he was not that far away in the Bronx. When I called and introduced myself as a Union student doing field work at Riverside and wondering if he might permit an interview, he seemed quite positive and welcoming. Even so, given his renown, I approached the experience with some trepidation.

He and his wife were living in a modest apartment building. He welcomed me at the door of their apartment, invited me in and offered a chair. My first impression of the room was also my last. It was filled with books. There were books shelved, on chairs, on tables, on the floor. Scanning some of the titles, it looked like our Seminary bookstore. It was immediately obvious from the surroundings that his intellectual curiosity and theological inquiry was alive and well, even in retirement.

Books weren’t the only evidence of an active mind and spirit. He interviewed me. He wanted to know what classes I was taking; who was teaching them; what I was learning; what questions I was asking; and what about my fellow students? And then there was Riverside. What was my experience there; teaching church school to high school students; working with the Youth Group; attending Sunday services; visiting students in their homes? When the interview concluded, I realized I had little in the way of information for my paper, but I knew I had experienced a memorable and immensely valuable experience of a vital mind and spirit in a respected Christian elder. Fosdick was in year 88 at the time of the interview.

And King? I only wish I had an opportunity to interview him. Thankfully, he has given us much to remember him by. “Why We Can’t Wait” and “Strength to Love” sit on my bookshelf. The “Papers of King,” published by Stanford University, lie nearby. Videos are always available on-line. My most revered is his speech the night before he was assassinated, “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop.” If ever there was a contemporary Moses figure in my time, it was King.

And it seems clear to me, King understood his destiny. Even when he was a student in Seminary, he wrote a paper about the prophet Jeremiah, understanding the fate of the prophet and suggesting he was prescient about his own destiny. In “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” I believe he is aware of his fate and prepared for it.

He will always be a Jesus figure for me. Preaching and practicing love of neighbor, regardless of race; in the face of threats to life and limb, even from government; understanding the cost of the cross and bearing it willingly!

If I didn’t say it before, let me say it now. “Thank you Martin Luther King, Jr.! I’m grateful for your witness!”