The Crowd

On most Sundays, we tend to dread Monday and look forward to Friday to kick off the weekend.

Compare that with this particular week in the Christian calendar—Holy Week.

We sing “Hosannah” as the week begins, but by Friday we’re shouting, “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”

Has there been any other time in history when things turn so horribly wrong so quickly? The same crowds who lay down palm branches for the King of Kings are yelling for His most horrible death by the end of the week. One moment they love Him; the next, they hate Him.

I think a good question to ask is: Who’s the “they”? Who’s “the crowd”?

No need to look further than a mirror… at least for me. It’s so easy to say, as a committed Christian, that I’d never be part of “the crowd” tormenting, hitting, and spitting upon Jesus, then yelling for His crucifixion.

No, not me! I would be defiant against “the crowd.” I’d be begging Pilate to take me instead. I’d do anything to save Jesus!

Or would I?

These last few days, I’ve tried to honestly reflect on what I would have done. As a middle-aged introvert, I tend to avoid crowds, so I had to draw upon my experiences from middle school through young adulthood.

Back then, I would go along with “the crowd.” But what crowd? The one least likely to be unpopular, receive backlash, or face opposition—not that I was seeking power or popularity. I simply didn’t want to be unpopular, ridiculed, or hated.

And where would I be in “the crowd”?

On the fringe.

Literally. That way, if “the crowd” was in danger of going too far, I could quickly slip away. If “the crowd” was called to the principal’s office, I could claim I was just an outsider who got too close. If “the crowd” was in danger of getting arrested, I could fade into obscurity.

Being in the middle of “the crowd” was too dangerous—no way out.

I was not bold enough to be at the front of “the crowd,” leading whatever uprising was trending.

Nor was I part of “the crowd” that sat on the sidelines watching chaos unfold, shouting their support—holding the same beliefs, but unwilling to die for the cause.

Instead, I chose the impostor position: pretending to appear as if I were part of “the crowd,” but really just trying to survive (whatever that meant at the time).

Oh, how I wish today were different.

Ask me who I voted for—I won’t say, for fear of being canceled. I’m currently off social media for Lent, but I probably won’t return because I can’t handle the hate. Politics and religion are not spoken about at family gatherings… surface-level topics only.

Yet I am a committed Christian, and I would like to think that 2,000+ years ago I would have walked with Jesus on the path to Calvary; that I would have helped Him carry the Cross; that I would have held Mother Mary’s hand—standing with her and John as Jesus breathed His last breath.

I don’t believe I’d be part of “the crowd” condemning Him, shouting for the release of Barabbas. But who knows? Maybe I’d be part of the apostolic crowd who ran and hid in fear.

Reality check:

There are days when my soul is grateful and sings, “Hosannah”!

There are days when my sin, horrifyingly, yells, “Crucify Him!”

Hence, the entire purpose of His Passion—my redemption… and yours.

Pray for me this Holy Week, as I pray for you.