The Allure of the Crowd: How Group Identity Creates Belonging…
I like to wear my Philadelphia Phillies hat in public. The vintage maroon colored hat, with the bold white stitched letter “P” is iconic for people from the city of brotherly love. If I were to wear the the hat in Philadelphia I would be just one among thousands, but when I wear the hat in Portland, I may be one of a handful that day. The hat becomes a signal to fellow Pennsylvanian’s “hey! we have something in common!”
I have had 10 minute conversations with the deli clerk at Fred Meyer about how much we miss a good cheesesteak, and about how much we wouldn’t trade anything for the beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
The place where I grew up is an important part of my identity. There are stories to share, there is common experience, food, and culture. When I wear my Phillies hat it becomes a short cut to talking about a shared group identity. It helps me feel like I belong to something.
Last month I was wearing a different hat. This one with the forest green colors, and white axe logo of the Portland Timbers. I was wearing it inside the downtown stadium, watching our local professional soccer team along with thousands of other excited fans. The north end of the stadium is home to the infamous Timbers Army, the raucous supporters section that leads the entire stadium in chants and songs. It is an imposing and awe inspiring environment. The energy is electric.
On this particular day the match wasn’t going according to plan. The timbers were losing, and the referee at the center of the pitch did not have many fans in the stands. We had cause to question his judgement on this day. In the waning minutes of the match, the referee issued a red card to one of our key players. The showing of a red card means the offending player is ejected from the game, leaving the entire team one player down.
The tension and frustration had reached a boiling point. It was then that the most clever combinations of profanity were being unleashed by the fans around me. 20,000 people became a choir of boos. Men with strained neck muscles and red faces screamed into the hot Portland summer air.
As it all unfolded I looked down at my arms and noticed something: goosebumps. What a strange and disorienting physical response to what was happening. The energy in that stadium was oddly satisfying, even cathartic. I was a part of the 20,000. We were united in something and that something was anger. And, for a moment, I was surprised that it felt good. We were right. We had a collective enemy. It felt good to know something with such certainty and to voice it with an army.
When I got in my car to drive home, ears still ringing, I took a deep breath. Whoa. My heart rate was settling. Now, away from the crowd, adrenaline subsiding, I had time to reflect. I was a bit alarmed by the fervor I was wrapped up in. Something about that experience felt disorienting, like for a few moments I wasn’t in control of myself, I was being lead by the power of the crowd.
Last week, on my long drive to and from my kids school, I noticed a pile of dumped furniture along the road. Mattresses and sofas in a heap. They had been there for a few days when I noticed that someone had spray painted the words “Blame Dems” on one of the couch cushions. This was a public statement about why things like this keep happening, “if you want to know why our city is a dump, look no further than the Democrats.” This follows the narrative of Portland portrayed on Fox News. A city in ruins, disarray, because we have whole heartedly embraced the descriptive and chaotic vision of Democrats.
All of these experiences have me thinking about group identity. I was recently looking at the story of Jesus feeding the five-thousand for a previous message where I reflected on Sister Mary Corita’s piece of artwork with the text “God is not Dead, He is Bread.” While I worked on that message something stood out to me about the text in the Gospel of Mathew.
In chapter 14 it says, “About five thousand men were fed, in addition to women and children. Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of Him to the other side, while He dismissed the crowds. After He had sent them away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray.”
When I was looking up the various translations of these verses I was able to see how each spoke about the command Jesus gave to his disciples to get in the boat. The NIV says, “Jesus made the disciples get into the boat.” Other versions say “he compelled” or “directed” and the American Standard Version says, “straightway he constrained the disciples to enter into the boat.”
Regardless of the translation, it seems like Jesus had to be quite assertive to his disciples. Making, compelling, and directing people sure seems stronger than making a suggestion or asking nicely. What is up with this?
Christ in the Wilderness by Stanley Spencer
Well, we know that at least a crowd of 5,000 people had assembled and just witnessed a miracle. They tasted a miracle. Imagine the energy after this? A large crowd just saw something incredible, and now had full stomachs. And right after Jesus pushes his closest followers onto a boat and told to get away. Jesus then does what he so often does, he escapes the crowd and goes somewhere by himself.
Did Jesus know something about the power of the crowd? Did Jesus know about the two edged sword of group identity? I think he did. Think about all the other gospel stories that have, as almost a main character, “the crowd.” Obviously the crowds shouting crucify him, but also the crowds shouting hosanna. We have the story of walking through a crowd and being touched and feeling power draining out of him, and the story of Jesus and his disciples needing to get in a boat because the crowd was pushing up against them on the shore.
Time and time again we see Jesus knowing the potential of the crowd. He knows that things can go sideways really quick, and he knows that a crowd has an identity of its own, that can circumvent the normal functioning of the actual individual. When I got in my car after the Timbers match I understood this. I was swept up in the fervor of the crowd, and for a few moments I was alive with the energy of collective anger.
My identity as a child and teenager growing up in Pennsylvania creates belonging for me. I felt like I belonged with the crowd of 20,000 at the Portland Timbers match. I feel like I belong within a certain political and religious identity. That belonging is a source of deep comfort. It gives my life purpose and direction. But there is also some caution to be explored within group identity.
In recent memory, I can recall many of us in this community talking about how hard it has been to have conversations with family members with whom we disagree. Whether it be around politics, religion, vaccines, or mask mandates, many of us know what it is like to try to engage with people we love and find that those relationships are now strained, or completely broken. Some of us feel perplexed at the lengths some of our family and old friends have gone to continue supporting a public figure, or be transfixed by conspiracy theories.
I still sometimes catch myself thinking that in order to change someones mind on something, all I need to do is present them with truth, and they will see the light. But I am a person who knows what it is like to turn away from the faith community of my childhood and adolescence, and to reject most of what I was told to believe about God, I know that changing ones mind isn’t as simple as flipping a light switch. When I moved away from Evangelical Christianity I lost a community of people, but I lost my own sense of belonging within something that made me feel wanted and valued. My identity was profoundly shaped and upheld by my childhood faith community, and leaving that meant that I was now completely unmoored.
Knowing this as a part of my own story helps me remember that belonging within a group is a powerful thing.
I am thinking about Jesus urging his disciples to get on that boat, and after they pushed off from the shore he took off to the mountains by himself. Is there a metaphor here? Perhaps, sometimes, when we come close to the power and influence of the crowd, it might be good to get in the boat with our closest people and get some water between us and the crowd. Or maybe it is a good idea to head for the hills for a little when the crowd gives us goosebumps. Perhaps that is the time for us to ask the question: what are our experiences within a group telling us about ourselves?
Belonging within a group is a powerful thing, it can give us meaning, purpose, and hope, and it can give us a whole bunch of other things too. As we continue to find our way, and we strive for justice, and liberation for all living things, how might the power of belonging shape the way we go forward?