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Introduction: What These Stories Have Been Doing to Us
Over these past weeks, Scripture has not simply given us answers about immigration—it has been forming us, shaping us into a people capable of faithfulness.
We’ve listened to stories—some strange, some uncomfortable, even unsettling. But God often forms people not through rules or arguments, but through story—through memory, imagination, and wisdom lived out in real lives.
So today is not about revisiting every text. Instead, we gather around a deeper question: Who are we becoming as we listen to Scripture and welcome strangers? And who is God calling us to be?
Across Scripture, we don’t find a policy so much as a pattern—a way God consistently acts and calls God’s people to live. Scripture calls this way blessed, and its refusal is called "cursed"—not because God delights in punishment, but because turning from God's way harms us, others, and the world.
Our passage from Deuteronomy brings this into focus. The people are warned (that's what is meant by "cursed" in Scripture) to uphold justice for the foreigner and to respond with a simple word: “Amen”—a word that means to be firmly planted.
So in these next moments, I invite you to reflect on where this journey of welcoming the stranger has taken us. And if you sense something true—something the Spirit is stirring—then join your voice with God’s people across generations and say: “Amen.” Let’s explore six “amens” together.
1. God Often Reveals Himself Through Strangers - What we fear or overlook, God may be using to protect, bless, and save. ~ Matthew 2:1-12
The gospel begins, not with familiarity, but with strangers and strangeness.
In Matthew 2, some of the first people to recognize Jesus are not insiders, not the religious authorities, not those fluent in Scripture—but foreigners, pagans, Magi from the East. They come from far away. They speak differently. They practice a different religion. They study the stars. The truth is that much of what they do would have been viewed with deep suspicion by faithful Jews. And yet—they see what others miss and show up with unexpected gifts.
From the very beginning, Matthew insists that God’s revelation is not protected by borders, purity, or proximity to power. Strangers are not obstacles to God’s work. They are often the ones who recognize it first and protect it best.
The contrast is stark:
- The Magi outsiders respond to the birth of Jesus with curiosity, generosity, and courage.
- Herod, the royal insider, responds with fear, control, and violence.
Same news. Same child. Different posture.
This pattern will repeat again and again in Scripture: Fear closes in. Curiosity opens. And God keeps showing up in strange ways, with strangers who bear incredible gifts.
2. Stories Restore the Humanity Fear Erases - When we listen to real lives instead of labels, compassion becomes possible. ~ Ruth 1:1-10
If Matthew teaches us where to look, the book of Ruth teaches us how to see.
Ruth illustrates the way many immigrant stories begin: with famine, with instability, with people crossing borders because staying means death - because home is the mouth of a shark.
And Scripture refuses to leave people as labels. It gives them names. Naomi. Orpah. Ruth. Immigration stops being abstract when confronted by people with stories and names.
Ruth—the Moabite widow, the excluded foreigner—becomes the moral center of the story. God never speaks. No miracle breaks the sky. Instead, God shows up entirely through chesed—fierce loyalty, compassion that acts. It’s often translated “loving-kindness” and two-thirds of its usage in the OT is solely used for God’s love. But in Ruth, chesed is revealed not through insiders, not through law—but through two foreign women from a despised nation.
This is not sentimental. It is theological. Ruth teaches us that when we assume we already know someone’s story, we stop listening—and when we stop listening, cruelty becomes reasonable.
And the shock is this: God’s redemptive future—David, and eventually Jesus—runs straight through the life of an immigrant woman most people thought God had already judged.
3. Scripture Grounds Welcome in Our Identity, Not Sentiment - We care for the stranger because we remember our own fragile history—and who welcomed us.~ Exodus 23:9; Leviticus 19:33–34; 1 Chronicles 16:19–24
We discovered that the Torah does not command hospitality because immigrants are vulnerable. God commands hospitality because people are forgetful. We all share an immigrant identity. When we talk about immigrants as “them,” Scripture keeps interrupting us with “you.” God keeps telling us:
“You know how it feels.” “You were foreigners.” “Remember when you were few.”
Biblical ethics are not abstract. They are remembered practices of personal identity. To mistreat the immigrant is not just a moral failure—it is spiritual amnesia and self-harm. To forget the immigrant experience was to forget their own story of God’s grace and mercy. Care for the stranger is not optional kindness. It is how God’s people stay alive to their own salvation story of grace.
4. Obeying God Sometimes Means Resisting the Law - We honor authority, but we obey God first, especially when the vulnerable are harmed. ~ Exodus 1:15-21 & Romans 12:21–13:7
Pastor Caitlin reminded us that Scripture calls Christians to honor governing authorities. But it never calls us to idolize them.
She reminded us that the Hebrew midwives disobeyed Pharaoh—and God blessed them. That Daniel disobeys and keeps praying. The apostles disobey and keep preaching. Even Paul himself is arrested and executed by the state whose authority he affirms.
She explained that Romans 13 only makes sense when
read with Romans 12:
“Love must be genuine.”
“Pursue hospitality to strangers.”
“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
The pattern is clear: We honor authority—but we obey Jesus first.
When laws protect the vulnerable, we rejoice.
When laws restrain evil, we support them.
When laws harm the stranger, Scripture calls God’s people to wrestle, to
advocate, and sometimes to resist—not because we reject the law, but because we
love who the law is meant to serve: foreigners, widows, the marginalized, and
oppressed.
5. Scripture Can Be Used Faithfully—and Still Be Misread - Even sincere faith can wound when fear becomes the interpreter. ~ Nehemiah 13
We also learned that Scripture can be a cautionary tale. Nehemiah loves God. He rebuilds the walls. He restores order. He helps the poor. And then—out of fear—he reads Scripture narrowly and uses it to justify violence, exclusion, and family separation.
The Bible is unflinchingly honest: You can have a mouth full of Scripture and still harbor a heart shaped by fear.
Nehemiah forgets Ruth. He forgets Israel’s immigrant beginnings. He forgets that God’s covenant was always meant to bless the nations.
And Scripture does not hide this failure—because God wants God’s people to grow wiser. The lesson is sobering: Faithful people can use the Bible to harm others when fear becomes the interpreter.
That is why Scripture must always be read:
- in conversation with Scripture,
- through the life and teaching of Jesus,
- and in light of God’s expansive mercy.
6. Jesus & Paul Make Welcome Provocative, Urgent, Costly, and Non-Negotiable - Following Jesus means publicly crossing boundaries with courage, goodness, and provocative love daily, without harming a soul. ~ Romans 12:9-21
When Jesus stands up in Nazareth in Luke 4, he does not offer a theory of justice but a daily practice. He says: “Today the poor are experiencing good news, the prisoner – freedom, the blind – sight, the oppressed – liberation. Not someday. Not eventually. Not when it’s safe. Today. And then he reminds his hometown that God’s mercy today has always crossed borders—blessing foreign widows and enemy generals.
That is when they try to kill him. He’s not rejected for being too harsh. He’s rejected for being too merciful. And if Jesus’ very first sermon about God’s love for foreigners, could provoke attempted murder, then maybe we should stop assuming that faithfulness to Jesus’ mission will always feel safe, affirming, or polite.
And Paul insists that those who follow Jesus must also fight like Jesus:
not repaying evil for evil,
not surrendering to hatred,
but overcoming evil with good.
This is not passivity. It is courageous, creative resistance that refuses to let fear and violence disciple the church.
Conclusion: Who We Are Becoming
Across Scripture, strangers and foreigners are never peripheral. They are a mirror.
They ask:
Do you remember who you are?
Do you recognize where God is at work?
Do you trust fear—or the expansive mercy of the gospel?
The immigrant is not a threat to the church. They are a theological gift, calling us back to memory, humility, courage, and Jesus himself.
The final question is not simply: “Will we help?”
It is: Will we remember ourselves, our strange story, our immigrant identity, our stranger God?
Because we were once strangers. And we were welcomed. And we are saved by a Savior who crossed every boundary to come to us.
May we be that kind of people.
May we welcome in that way.
May we live that strange gospel—today. Amen. Amen. Amen.
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