"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." This little bit of wisdom or a powerful spell for a preteen weirdo did not have its desired effect for me. I was almost 6 feet tall in 6th grade. I needed to lose some baby fat. I looked Asian enough to receive the label "chink". I was a nice kid too nice to fight back at the older kids who loved to make fun of this smart, goofy, genial kid.
The truth is that the words always hurt me. Now I grew to be mature enough that I didn't give the bullies the power they so terribly wanted. But until probably 7th grade, the words hurt. In fact, I would have rather fought one of them than have to listen to their stinging words.
Jesus was mocked as the "king of the Jews." True words but spoken with the wrong intent. I am sure that Jesus was mature enough to live above the trite words of an immature crowd. I am also sure that these attacks broke the heart of the king of heaven who all too well know they would some day all know him as he truly is - "every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that he is Lord."
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