On Palm Sunday in the Cathedral the congregation participates in acting out the Gospel, and we are the mob, and I choke as I shout out, “His blood be on us, and on our children. Crucify him! Crucify him!” I choke not because it is something I would never under any circumstances say, but because just as I do not know what I would have done had I been an ordinary German under Hitler’s regime, neither do I know what I would have done had I been caught up in that mob. I might well have cried, “Crucify him!” and been convinced that this was the right thing to do.
Madeleine L’Engle, The Irrational Season, Chapter VI
Locus Communis 