When Nations Meet the Stranger: How Kingdom Citizenship Shapes Christian Engagement With Immigration, Borders, and Diplomacy
Diplomacy is often described as the art of balancing national interests—trade, security, borders, and alliances. But Scripture invites Christians to see something deeper beneath the surface of global politics: the moral weight of how nations treat the vulnerable, especially the foreigner. Immigration is not merely a domestic policy debate; it is a spiritual diagnostic, revealing what a nation values and what its people fear.
For Christians, the stakes are even higher. We live with dual citizenship—citizens of earthly nations, yes, but also citizens of the kingdom of God. Paul writes, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:20). This heavenly citizenship does not negate our earthly responsibilities. It reorders them. It gives us a different lens through which to see the stranger, the refugee, and the displaced.
The Bible does not offer a modern immigration blueprint. But it does offer a moral grammar—principles that reveal God’s heart for the sojourner and shape how kingdom citizens engage the diplomatic and political questions of our age.
Israel’s own story begins with immigration. When famine struck Canaan, Jacob’s family fled to Egypt seeking survival. Joseph welcomed them with honor, and Pharaoh offered them land and protection (Gen. 47:5–6). But over time, hospitality hardened into hostility. “Now there arose up a new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph” (Ex. 1:8). Suspicion replaced gratitude. Fear replaced memory. And the welcomed immigrants became an enslaved underclass. “Therefore they set taskmasters over them to afflict them with heavy burdens.” (Ex. 1:11).
This pattern—welcome turning to fear, and fear turning to oppression—echoes in today’s geopolitical climate. Nations often embrace immigrants when they are useful, only to marginalize them when they are perceived as threats. And in many countries today, the debate is not merely about immigration but illegal immigration—the crossing of borders without permission, the tension between compassion and sovereignty, the fear that disorder at the border may lead to disorder within.
Scripture does not ignore the importance of borders. God Himself established the boundaries of nations. “When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind,
he fixed the borders[a] of the peoples according to the number of the sons of God” (Deut. 32:8). Sovereignty is not a secular invention; it is a biblical reality. Nations have the right—and responsibility—to maintain order at their borders.
At the same time, Scripture repeatedly commands compassion toward the foreigner. God reminds Israel of their own vulnerability. “Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.” (Deut. 10:19). And again, “You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.” (Ex. 22:21). The command is simple: remember your story, and let it soften your posture toward others.
Israel’s story continues with displacement in the opposite direction. When the nation abandoned God’s covenant, foreign empires carried them away. Assyria scattered the northern tribes. Babylon marched Judah into exile. “By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion.” (Ps. 137:1). Israel became the immigrant, the refugee, the captive. Their suffering in foreign lands became part of their spiritual DNA.
After Jesus’ ascension, the pattern repeated. Many in Israel rejected their Messiah, fulfilling Jesus’ lament: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Matt. 23:37). The early church faced persecution first from Jewish authorities—“ But Saul was ravaging the church, and entering house after house, he dragged off men and women and committed them to prison.” (Acts 8:3)—and then from Rome, whose emperors viewed Christians as a threat to imperial unity. The result was another scattering. “Now those who were scattered went about preaching the word.” (Acts 8:4).
These biblical patterns shape how kingdom citizens think about modern immigration—including illegal immigration. Scripture affirms both compassion and order. It commands love for the stranger, but it also affirms the legitimacy of national boundaries and the rule of law.
Israel’s laws held citizens and foreigners to the same standard. “You shall have the same rule for the sojourner and for the native, for I am the Lord your God.” (Lev. 24:22). And again, “There shall be one law for the native and for the stranger who sojourns among you.” (Ex. 12:49). Foreigners were welcomed—but they were also expected to respect the laws of the land.
This principle speaks directly to today’s debates. Illegal immigration is not merely a political issue; it is a moral tension. Nations must protect their borders. But Christians must protect their hearts. Sovereignty matters. Compassion matters. And Scripture refuses to let us choose one at the expense of the other.
Israel’s gleaning laws ensured that foreigners were not economically crushed. “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to its edge … You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the Lord your God” (Lev. 19:9–10). God built mercy into the structure of society. Kingdom citizens see these laws as a template for moral economics. Diplomacy that treats migrant labor as disposable may be efficient, but it is not righteous.
Few commands are as countercultural as the call to love the sojourner. “You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.” (Lev. 19:34). God roots this love in Israel’s own story of displacement.
The Bible’s commands to welcome the stranger coexist with expectations that foreigners respect the laws of the land. “One law and one rule shall be for you and for the stranger who sojourns with you.” (Num. 15:16). Scripture unites compassion and order, mercy and structure.
Jesus identifies Himself with the displaced. “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Matt. 25:35). This reframes diplomacy entirely. The displaced person is not merely a geopolitical variable. They are a Christ‑bearing neighbor.
Christians live with two allegiances—but not two masters. “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money” (Matt. 6:24). Our earthly citizenship calls us to participate in the public life of our nation. Our kingdom citizenship calls us to do so with a different posture: humble, remembering our own story; just, insisting on equal dignity; protective, ensuring provision for the vulnerable; loving, even when costly; ordered, honoring the rule of law; and Christ‑centered, seeing Jesus in the displaced.
Kingdom citizenship does not pull us away from earthly responsibilities. It deepens them. It gives us a moral compass when national interests collide with biblical convictions. In a world where nations negotiate from fear, scarcity, and suspicion, kingdom citizens bear witness to a better way—a way that remembers the stranger, honors human dignity, and reflects the kingdom that welcomes people from every tribe, tongue, and nation. “After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands,” (Rev. 7:9).
Pastoral Reflection
As we navigate the complexities of immigration, borders, and national sovereignty, Scripture calls us to hold two truths together without tearing them apart: God cares about order, and God cares about people. Nations must steward their borders wisely. But Christians must steward their hearts faithfully.
Our world is full of movement—forced migration, economic displacement, political upheaval, and spiritual wandering. Yet beneath all of it stands a God who has not changed. He still defends the vulnerable. He still judges the proud. He still calls His people to remember their own story, to walk humbly, and to love mercy.
Closing Prayer
O Lord our God,
You are the One who sets the boundaries of nations and the One who gathers the nations to Yourself. Teach us to remember our own story—that we were strangers until You welcomed us through Christ. Guard our hearts from fear that hardens and pride that blinds.
Give wisdom to leaders who bear the weight of national security. Let justice guide them, compassion temper them, and truth anchor them. Strengthen Your church to be a faithful witness in a divided world. Make us people who love the stranger, honor the law, protect the weak, and reflect the heart of our King.
In the name of Jesus, who was Himself a refugee and who welcomes all who come to Him, we pray. Amen.