Crowd Sense

I have been reading a number of accounts of Palm Sunday which try to suggest that the crowd which welcomed Jesus with a triumphant procession was not the same one which shouted crucify. They go to great lengths to make it clear that the crowd was not fickle, and could not turn so quickly. There is no evidence either way, but it strikes me as rather special pleading.

Perhaps the truth is we are far more like those crowds than we want to admit. That is why it is written the way it is written. The reader of the story becomes the crowd, fickle, changeable. The reader becomes the faithful disciples, who all flee in terror. The reader becomes Peter, the rock who betrays his master, who says "I would never say that"... and does.

If we think there are really two crowds, that one was forever steadfast (and how we see ourselves, of course!), we deceive ourselves and lose the whole point of that juxtaposition, and how the story is told, deliberately so we latch onto the word "crowd" in both contexts. We lose sight of the duality of human existence, of our own divided self.

Crowd Sense

The crowds are always there
Cheering, waving palms in joy
He knew it was a fatal snare
Now he was the golden boy

The crowds are always there
Their shouts of praise do ring
Here the answer to our prayer
On a donkey, comes our king

The crowds are always there
Calling for blood, that’s the sting
The hate filled eyes that stare
And crucify, crucify, they sing

The crowds are always there
Triumph now, but soon despair