Somehow, the sight of many people doing the same thing at once -- whether dancing, singing, rising to their feet, falling to their knees, filling the squares in front of balconies in old cities, joining in shouts of protest or cries of celebration, leaping up in applause, cheering for athletes or comedians, or just holding their ground -- brings tears to my eyes. The idea of all those minds and bodies bent to the same purpose at the same time is at once exhilarating and terrifying, and deeply compelling. I cannot help but respond with my physical being; what sets the masses in motion moves me, too.
According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, (www.etymonline.com/index.php) the English word "mass," as in "lump, quality, or size" comes from the Latin "massa 'kneaded dough, lump, that which adheres together like dough,' from Gk. maza 'barley cake, lump, mass, ball,' related to massein 'to knead.'" It goes on to say that the meaning was "extended 1585 to 'a large quantity, amount, or number'" and that "The masses 'people of the lower class' is from 1837." In Spanish, this word is "masa," in Italian, "massa," and in French, "masse."
However "mass" in English is also used to mean the Catholic Eucharist service. This homonym of the word above is derived from the Late Latin "missa," the feminine past participle of "mittere" meaning "to let go" or "send," because the Latin service ends with the phrase "Ite, missa, est," "Go, (the prayer) has been sent" or "Go, the dismissal has been made." In Spanish, this word is "misa," in Italian, "Mass," and in French, "messe."
Only in English are the two words the same; there is no historical connection between the word denoting a great gathering of people and the formal name of the religious ceremony.
The homophony of "mass" can, apparently, be considered as one of sound's mere accidents, but what an accident it is, housing two such disparate concepts within one string of letters. On the one hand, we have the mass of the physicists, one of the fundamental properties of matter, a word grounded in the material, in the solid, corporeal stuff of the earth. On the other, the mass of the angels, denying the priority of the tangible world, seeking to rise above all that can be measured and quantified. This second sense is particularly curious: who would name something after its own end? The Catholic "mass" is the part (of the mass) that gives you permission to take leave of its whole. The difference between the two meanings of this one word can be crystallized in terms of the different ways they approach bread: it is either the globs of dough that will become actual human flesh or a divine instantiation of the flesh of the spirit.
I do wonder, though, whether the power of a crowd moving in unison might be related to the strange power of the word "mass" itself, a word that unites the crowds of bodies too numerous to count with the breadth of the soul, a distance beyond measure.
