Have you ever met someone who made you think, "I'm not even worthy to be in the same room with this person," so powerful were her or his actions? Well, today at the Higher Education Ministry Summit in Birmingham, Alabama, I had the opportunity to meet two such people-- two of the men who participated in the Freedom Rides of 1961, a key event in the Civil Rights Movement.

When they joined the Freedom Rides, Benjamin, a Methodist minister, was 26. Hank was a mere 19 years old-- the same age as many of you in the Network. These two rode into the middle of a hostile South to test federal laws desegregating public interstate facilities.

I listened this morning as Hank talked about the angry white mob that set fire to the bus he was on outside Anniston, Alabama, only a few miles from here, on May 19, 1961. He described how people coming out of church that morning stopped to watch as the mob attacked the bus, men putting their children on their shoulders so the kids could get a better look at the trapped Freedom Riders. Hank told us of having to decide, at age 19, whether it was better to die of smoke inhalation inside the burning bus, or push his way out to be beaten to death by the angry mob outside. And he told us of bursting out of the bus, only to be refused medical attention by the white-owned ambulance company. When he and his companions (both black and white) finally did get to the hospital for treatment, mobs outside threatened to set fire to the building if they didn't come out.

Perhaps why these men seemed so amazing to me was because they were at heart so normal. They had jobs, had been to college, talked about their kids and grandkids later over lunch. And yet somewhere within, these ordinary people had found amazing courage to truly risk their lives for what they knew was right-- for basic human dignity and the right to have the same opportunities as those in power. It really made me wonder, "What do I feel that passionately about? What would I be willing to honestly put my life on the line for?"

I've always believed that ordinary people truly are capable of acts of extraordinary evil-- one only has to read about the rise of Nazism in Germany to know that. And yet Benjamin and Hank's stories also remind me that people are capable of acts of extraordinary good as well. And I can only hope that when God calls me to take risks for my sisters and brothers, I will respond as these men did.

One other note-- after hearing the two men speak, I sat next to Hank at lunch. Our table started talking about his feelings toward white people after all the horrible experiences he had had on the Freedom Rides. He told us that there were times when he had felt hatred toward whites for what they had done. But then he said that he could never hold on to that feeling very long, because hate has a corrosive effect. It eats up a person and leaves him or her with nothing but more hate, a desire for revenge that can't be quenched. And it was his choice not to be a victim, not to let himself be more damaged by the actions of others, by giving into that feeling. Perhaps a pertinent lesson to remember in the days leading up to the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA).

Kelsey