Who Is A Terrorist?

If you were not born in privilege, perhaps you would be one. If your house was destroyed, your parents killed, sisters raped, brothers tortured, perhaps you would be one. If you had no opportunity to come out of the gutter that you had to live in, perhaps you would be one. If you were indoctrinated by people who controlled your life, and you knew no better, perhaps you would be one.

Every time I see a terrorist I realize there is a part of me that is to blame—it’s that part of me that prevented me to share a piece of my bread, a part of me that did not let me extend a hand to build a new house for you, a part of me that prevented me pulling you out of your gutter, a part of me that prevented me spreading education that could have illumined your mind.

"For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick, and you didn’t care for me. I was in prison, and you didn’t visit me.

Then these righteous ones will reply, 'Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and not feed you? And the Lord will tell them, 'I assure you, when you didn’t do it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you weren’t doing it to me!'"