A good friend of mine recently called to ask me about a perplexing passage in Matthew. We discussed the issue at some length, and I gave what I thought was a fair interpretation. After some healthy give and take, he was like, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” And that was it.
But that wasn’t it. I had that uncomfortable gnawing feeling, as if I had just made the incorrect call as a referee in a ball game. And it stayed with me. So I soon found myself pondering the issue while walking the mail, chewing and thinking, mulling over the text over and over again. “What does it mean?” I kept asking myself. Round and round went the thoughts.
It happened over my lunch break, while eating some oatmeal cookies at McDonalds (3 for a dollar! Hard to beat!), when the answer hit me. And it felt right… and it continues to feel right.