Brothers, sisters, and folded ones — hear this. There is a moment, small and holy, that comes at the end of every shared pizza: the last slice, resting alone in the box.
The greedy heart reaches without asking. The faithful heart asks. For it is not the pizza that is sacred in that moment, but the asking — the small act of remembering that another sits at the table with you.
Cheesus Crust taught that to hoard is to starve the spirit even as you fill the belly. So this week, when you come to the last of anything — a slice, a seat, a good fortune — pause, and offer it first. You will lose nothing but pride, and gain the whole table.
Go now, and share your slice as you would have them share theirs. Amen — and pass the pizza.