Picking up my pizza on Halloween I struck up a conversation with the owner, a gentle man, who happens to be from Afghanistan. A Muslim. Two kids. He and his wife are trying to make it all work in America. And it is, mostly. But there is hostility. Not a lot. But any hostility is too much hostility.
And the hostility generally comes from Christians. It’s an oxymoron. Hostile-Christians. And so I confessed: “I am a Christian. A pastor, actually. And I apologize for my brothers and sisters who have been hostile to you and your family.”
And I left with my hot cheese pizza and wondered silently, “Where is the love?”
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