By PAT WICK

Contributing writer

The first time I remember hearing the word rabble was in church — probably right about this time of year. It seems there was a crowd, a mob, a throng, calling for a City Meeting with Pontius Pilot.

The rabble was angry about the state of things. Obviously, this was tough economic times. Maybe these people were poor — although not all of them were. Maybe they were disenchanted with the political system, although some of them were rather shrewd politically. Maybe they had a grudge against authority in general. Maybe they were fearful that change may be coming, or that it wasn’t happening fast enough to benefit them.

Certainly, they didn’t like Jesus and what he was saying. He was suggesting some off-the-wall stuff like loving one another, treating your neighbor like you’d want to be treated, and basic peace and brotherhood in the community.

Off the cuff, one would wonder just why the rabble-rousing was aimed at this man. In today’s climate, you’d expect that maybe it was because he ran for President, promising change. And then, when change didn’t happen fast enough or change cost something you hadn’t expected, the rabble was roused and began looking for a scapegoat.

Actually, the man in our story hadn’t run for any public office. He wasn’t Mayor of Nazareth or on the City Council. He wasn’t a church leader or a local lawyer. Jesus was just a carpenter, by trade, but he had become a leader. People knew where he stood and they seemed to be listening. Probably the scariest thing was that he went around doing good, in all its forms and when someone said something nasty about someone, he suggested people turn the other cheek and not fight back.

I’m not sure what would have been the equivalent of CNN, the evening news, and newspapers in those long ago days. Maybe the rabble just spread the word, standing there in the street complaining about something, looking for someone to focus on, somewhere to vent their anger and frustration.

How the rabble all got to the same place at the same time, in our timeless story, probably had to do with word-of-mouth. Someone told someone else, who passed along the story — each time adding (without even trying) their own twist, their own interpretation, their own frustration — until, at the end of this well-known event, an innocent man was killed.

For me, the preacher’s kid teething on Bible stories, pondering these ancient events, is an important learning opportunity today. We’re living in much more sophisticated times, but human nature being what it is, word-of-mouth with its inherent flaws, is still one of the most deadly tools.

I cringe when I hear the President of the United States criticized and maligned, his words twisted, mistrusted, people searching for flaws.

We can say, “He’s a public figure. He asked to be elected so he’s fair game.”

I don’t think so! Disagreement is one thing, disrespect quite another. There should be a modicum of respect for those willing to lead.

Maybe, it’s like someone said to me recently.

“It’s just politics, Pat.”

I disagreed, but maybe they were right if their definition of politics is a lot of finger pointing. I believe that finger pointing is cheap and self-serving. I believe that rabble-rousing is mean spirited and wrong. Too often the crowd doesn’t know the facts and certainly a mob is not driven by common sense. They’ve just been stirred up and feel powerful yelling, for action — even crucifixion of an innocent person.

In our Biblical story, just as it is today, truth is sometimes difficult to hear, hard to come by and defenseless in the face of rabble. I marvel, in this day and age, that anyone is brave enough to lead.

It’s another day in the country, as we approach Easter. Perhaps we would be wise to repeat the Easter story to our children and teach them about the power of words: to create or to kill — if not a body, then a reputation.