Welcoming the Stranger
Compassion and Convenience Seldom Walk Together
Immigration is back in the spotlight with debates raging about whether or not to deport the children of illegal immigrants. Christian conservatives in favor of more stringent immigration laws, such as Matt Walsh, are being reprimanded severely about the Bible’s emphasis on welcoming the stranger. It is true that the Bible (and by extension, God) has a lot to say about the stranger in a strange land. For a few examples:
"When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. 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.” — Leviticus 19:33–34, ESV
“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…Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” — Matthew 25:35–40, ESV
But we may well ask, who is the stranger?
Let’s put aside immigration for now. Speaking more broadly, the stranger is the unknown or unfamiliar. They are not “one of us.” The stranger, appearing in our lives, disrupts the normal structure that gives us security. They are the unexpected, the non-conforming, or the just plain different. By their presence, they demand a response.
There are two responses available to us: hospitality or hostility. Both are demonstrated in sharp contrast in Genesis 18–19, with Abraham welcoming the three strangers vs. Sodom and Gomorrah attempting to exploit and destroy two of them. Yes, there were other reasons why those cities were known as wicked and destroyed; but Ezekiel 16:49 says one of their main crimes was ignoring the poor and needy. Strangers are often in that category. And we see in the story that whereas Abraham’s first response to the stranger is “Come in and let me serve you,” the first response of the Sodomites is “Come out and serve us!” They are selfish, arrogant, and completely ruled by their own desires. No one else is valuable except insofar as they can meet Sodom’s wants and desires.
But as I explore in this piece, this self-exalting attitude is not far from any one of us. After all, other people can be dangerous. The probability is much higher with a stranger, someone who could do just about anything to you. And so, fear leads to hostility, to ignoring or destroying the stranger for one’s own protection.
Yes, that motive might apply to some of those who advocate for closed borders, and fear mongering is certainly one way that people argue for it. But let’s look smaller. Compassion begins at home; actually, it begins in the womb.
I can tell you from current experience that having a baby is disruptive. No matter how much the child might be planned or wanted, there is just no knowing what it will do to you. There are many physical and emotional side effects of pregnancy, some more dangerous than others, even before the little stranger officially makes an entrance. And what if the baby is disabled? What if they have Down’s syndrome or autism or something? What if you get post-partum depression, lose your job, or fall behind because of maternity leave? The risks are myriad. Safest just to avoid having a baby altogether.
It’s too late, though. The little stranger is here before you know it, heart beating after 18 days of existence, demanding a response. We can only respond in hospitality or hostility. Too often, fear leads to the hostile response: abortion.
The thing is, compassion and convenience do not go together. Hospitality involves allowing yourself to be vulnerable to the unknown. It means treating someone else as more valuable than you. That’s a sacrifice. And it hurts.
So is it worth it?
Ask Abraham. He was the first recorded instance of “entertaining angels unawares.” The strangers brought blessing and knowledge into his home, as well as an opportunity to be involved in the bigger picture (pleading for Sodom). Ask any parents who love their children. The little strangers bring meaning, learning, and many more blessings to their families. It’s a paradox, you see. The unknown is where danger lurks; but it’s also where treasure is hidden. However, we can’t find that treasure by demanding it, like a dragon or like the Sodomites. We only discover it through giving of ourselves to the other; to the stranger. And there’s no knowing what we’ll find.
Does this have implications for immigration policy? Maybe. I’m not the person to figure them out. But on the individual level, I say other people are worth my risk. That includes the little stranger in the womb.
