Crowds

I've been thinking a lot about crowds lately. I warn you, I'm about to talk of politics and religion, so just know you've been forewarned.

Every time I have gone to Rome I've had to deal with crowds. The first time was for WYD 2000. There I was so immersed in the crowd that I got lost, completely separated from my group. I was 19 and traveling abroad without supervision for the first time. Glad to say that I didn't panic, but it was intimidating. We were packed like sardines in St. Peter's Square. It was hotter than, well, you know. Banners and flags interrupted your line of sight. The noise was a veritable tower of Babel. And I was simply one small member of the crowd. Never had I fully felt what it meant to be alone in a sea of people.

In 2003 I journeyed to Rome again. This time fully expecting a quiet spring break trip to visit a friend with another friend in tow. One afternoon, two of us were journeying back from an exhausting trek through the city (note: don't walk from central Rome to the catacombs outside the city - it is dangerous and exhausting). When we were nearly in sight of our friend's apartment we heard it. The unmistakable chanting of a crowd displeased with something. As the chants were in Italian, it wasn't until we got closer that we realized they were protesting the United States's decision to head into Iraq. Suddenly we were surrounded by people who were shouting against our government and President. There were flames and angry faces.

Last year I was on the other side of the crowd. I was standing alone in front of thousands gathered in St. Peter's Square. I looked out to see the sea of people and felt the aloneness that comes from knowing you have a responsibility that no one in that crowd could fulfill at that moment.

These experiences resonate so strongly with me now as we head more fully into Holy Week. After facing that hostile crowd protesting our military presence in Iraq, I can understand Peter's fear and denials. After being just a lone voice in a crowd of thousands at WYD, I wonder, would I have kept silent while those around me shouted, "Crucify him!" And after the role I played at the Palm Sunday Mass at St. Peter's last year, I can better appreciate how Pilate viewed the fevered crowd. I am not saying what they did was right. But can we claim to be immune from similar behavior.

After all, over the past weeks we have seen the terrible and great power of crowds to topple regimes. We know that one spark can lead to a wildfire of devastation. We know the power of the virtual crowds that lead to tragedies of smaller proportions courtesy of online bullying and the effects thereof.

So maybe, this Good Friday, if you are listening to the crowds, just remember where you are in the crowd.