Immigration remains one of the most divisive issues in American life, and Christians are often told that the biblical command to “love the stranger” settles the question.

Recently, that debate moved once again into the church.

St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Austin—the longtime congregation associated with Texas political figure James Talarico—describes itself as a sanctuary church. Its own website says it has offered sanctuary to illegal immigrants and maintains an Immigrant Support Committee for people seeking sanctuary within the church. Reporting on the congregation has also described members watching for federal immigration agents during food-pantry events.

That raises a question Christians cannot answer with a slogan:

Does biblical compassion require Christians to welcome anyone who enters a country regardless of legal status? Does it require a church to shield someone from lawful authorities? Or does Scripture place responsibilities on the foreigner as well as on the community receiving him?

And there is an even more basic question: Who is the “stranger” in the Bible?

That question matters because our English Bibles can flatten distinctions that are clearer in Hebrew and Greek. The Old Testament does not use one word for every foreign person. Neither does the New Testament. A resident foreigner, a foreign national, a temporary resident, an unknown traveler, and an itinerant Christian worker can all be rendered in English as a stranger, a foreigner, an alien, a sojourner, or similar terms.

Before we use the Bible to settle a modern immigration argument, we need to understand what the Bible actually says.

And when we do, we find something more demanding than either political slogan: Scripture commands God’s people to show compassion, justice, and hospitality toward the foreigner. It also expects those living within a community to live under its lawful order.

“Love the stranger” is unquestionably biblical. But the English word stranger is not itself a complete immigration theology.

In biblical Hebrew, several words can describe people who are not native members of the community, and those words are not interchangeable. The most important for this discussion is גֵּר (gēr). A gēr is a person residing among a people to whom he is not native—a resident foreigner or sojourner. The term often describes someone living within the community without the inherited standing of the native-born.

That is different from נָכְרִי (nokrî), which emphasizes foreign identity: someone belonging to another people or nation. A nokrî may be physically present in Israel, but the word itself does not mean “illegal immigrant.” Nor does gēr mean “legal immigrant” in the modern statutory sense. Those equations are tempting because they sound convenient. They are also too simple.

A third term, תּוֹשָׁב (tôshāv), emphasizes residence or temporary settlement. Genesis 23:4 even places gēr and tôshāv together when Abraham describes himself as a sojourner and resident among the Hittites. זָר (zār), meanwhile, often denotes an outsider or an unauthorized person and is frequently used in contexts unrelated to migration.

The distinction matters. If we see the English word stranger and automatically substitute our preferred modern immigration category, we may be importing a political conclusion into the text instead of drawing one from it.

The Torah is emphatic about the treatment of the gēr. Israel was forbidden to exploit or oppress the resident foreigner (Exodus 22:21; 23:9). Israel was commanded to love the gēr (Deuteronomy 10:18–19). Leviticus 19:33–34 tells Israel not to mistreat the foreigner residing among them and to love him as themselves.

Those commands are not footnotes. They reveal something about God’s character and about the moral obligations of His people. Foreign status never made a person less human. Vulnerability was never a license for exploitation.

Israel was repeatedly reminded of its own history in Egypt. They knew what it was like to live as outsiders in another land. Their memory of vulnerability was supposed to produce justice and compassion rather than contempt.

That principle naturally carries over into Christian ethics. A person’s immigration status does not determine whether he bears the image of God. Christians should never delight in fear, family separation, humiliation, suffering, or mistreatment. We can believe that laws should be enforced and still insist that every person be treated humanely and justly.

But that is only half of the Old Testament picture.

The same Torah that protected the gēr also placed him within Israel’s legal order. Exodus 12:49 speaks of one law for the native and the gēr who resides among the people. Leviticus 24:22 likewise applies a single standard of justice to both the native and the foreign resident. Numbers 15:15–16 repeats the principle in the context of worship.

Specific commands make the point concrete. The resident foreigner was included in Sabbath rest (Exodus 20:10). He was subject to prohibitions concerning idolatrous sacrifice and the consumption of blood (Leviticus 17). He was included under the sexual-morality requirements of Leviticus 18:26. Molech worship was forbidden to both Israelite and foreign residents (Leviticus 20:2). Judicial accountability also applied to foreigners (Leviticus 24).

The gēr was protected by law, but he was not above it.

That is an important corrective to the way these passages are sometimes used. Scripture does not envision a resident foreigner saying, “I claim the protection of this community, but its laws do not apply to me.” Compassion and accountability are presented together.

Nor does this mean complete cultural erasure. The gēr did not cease to have an ancestry, a family history, or an ethnic identity merely because he lived among Israel. The better concept is integration into the community’s legal and moral order, not forced cultural sameness.

Genesis gives us an instructive migration story long before Israel received the Mosaic Law.

Jacob’s family was facing a severe famine in Canaan. Joseph had already been elevated to power in Egypt, and Pharaoh invited Joseph’s family to come. When the brothers appeared before Pharaoh, they explained the famine, identified themselves as shepherds, and asked that they be allowed to settle in Goshen (Genesis 45:16–20; 47:1–6). Pharaoh granted the request.

That is descriptive, not prescriptive. Genesis 47 is not a modern immigration statute. Ancient Egypt did not operate with passports, green cards, visa categories, immigration courts, and border procedures like those of a modern nation-state.

But the narrative still tells us something worth noticing: the biblical story does not portray Jacob’s family as possessing an unrestricted right to enter another ruler’s territory and remain there on their own terms. They came during a humanitarian crisis, explained why they were there, requested permission to reside, and received authorization from the governing authority.

That does not answer every modern policy question. It does undercut the claim that respect for a host nation’s authority is somehow foreign to the biblical treatment of migration.

We also need to resist another shortcut: treating every person called an immigrant as though his legal situation were identical.

A refugee fleeing persecution, an asylum seeker presenting a claim under law, a lawful permanent resident, a temporary visa holder, a person who overstayed a visa, and a person who deliberately crossed a border outside the lawful process may all be foreigners. Still, they are not the same legal category.

Even the phrase “illegal immigrant” can conceal distinctions. Improper entry can be a federal offense under 8 U.S.C. § 1325. But a person may also become unlawfully present after entering lawfully—for example, by remaining beyond an authorized period. We should not call every unlawfully present person a criminal as though every case arose from the same offense.

Precision matters because Christians should care about truth even when imprecision would make an argument easier.

The New Testament does not simply copy Israel’s civil law into the church. The church is not a nation-state with borders, courts, land allotments, and a divinely revealed civil code. That changes the context considerably.

It also changes the vocabulary. In the Greek Old Testament, the Septuagint, προσήλυτος (prosēlytos) is one frequent rendering of the Hebrew gēr. By New Testament times, prosēlytos commonly refers to a Gentile convert to Judaism. The New Testament also uses ξένος (xenos), meaning "stranger" or "foreigner"; πάροικος (paroikos), a sojourner or resident alien; παρεπίδημος (parepidēmos), a temporary resident or exile; and φιλοξενία (philoxenia), literally "love of strangers"—hospitality.

That means we cannot simply find the English word stranger in the New Testament and assume that Jesus or an apostle is invoking the Mosaic legal category of the gēr.

Matthew 25:35 is one of the most frequently quoted verses in Christian discussions of immigration. Jesus says that He was a stranger—xenos—and was welcomed.

The moral force of the passage should not be weakened. Jesus identifies Himself with the needy and vulnerable. Christians cannot read Matthew 25 and conclude that suffering outsiders are somebody else’s problem.

But xenos does not mean “person unlawfully present under the immigration code.” It means a stranger, foreigner, or outsider. The verse teaches hospitality and mercy. It does not define a modern legal status or settle the question of whether Christians must interfere with civil enforcement.

Hebrews 13:2 likewise commands hospitality to strangers. The word is built from philoxenia—love of strangers. Again, this is a genuine Christian obligation, but it is not a technical immigration statute.

Other New Testament hospitality passages are even more specific. Third John praises Gaius for receiving Christian brothers who were strangers to him—traveling workers serving the gospel. Second John, by contrast, warns against receiving false teachers in a way that participates in their work. Context matters. “Stranger” does not identify one single class of person in every passage.

The New Testament’s teaching about compassion does not stand alone. Paul tells Christians in Romans 13 to be subject to governing authorities and describes civil government as having a legitimate role in restraining and punishing wrongdoing. Peter tells believers to submit to human authorities for the Lord’s sake (1 Peter 2:13–17).

Neither passage teaches that every government action is righteous. The apostles themselves refused an order to stop preaching Christ. When commanded to disobey God, their answer was clear: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29).

But notice the circumstance. The authorities were directly ordering the apostles not to do what Christ had commanded them to do. Acts 5:29 is not a blanket permission slip for Christians to ignore any law they consider unwise or severe.

The biblical pattern is therefore neither blind obedience nor casual resistance. Christians normally respect lawful civil authority. When government requires what God forbids—or forbids what God requires—obedience to God takes precedence.

Another popular argument says that Jesus Himself was an illegal immigrant.

Matthew 2 certainly tells us that Joseph took Mary and Jesus to Egypt to escape Herod’s attempt to kill the child. It is entirely fair to say that the Holy Family fled persecution and sought safety outside Herod’s jurisdiction.

What Matthew does not tell us is that they entered Egypt unlawfully, violated an Egyptian immigration requirement, concealed themselves from Egyptian authorities, or refused a lawful order to leave. The modern legal category “illegal immigrant” is therefore more than the text gives us.

The flight into Egypt is a powerful reminder that people sometimes flee because their lives are genuinely in danger. Christians should never lose sight of that. But the story cannot honestly carry a legal conclusion that Matthew never states.

This may be the most important pastoral question in the entire discussion.

I do not believe Jesus would begin by saying, “Correct your immigration status, and then you may come to Me.” That is not the gospel. Christ receives sinners by grace. None of us earns entrance into the kingdom by becoming legally or morally clean first.

The call would begin where Jesus’ call always begins: repent, believe, and follow Me.

But following Christ means that no part of life remains outside His lordship. A person cannot reasonably say, “I have trusted Christ, but I intend knowingly to continue in deception or unlawful conduct, and I have no responsibility to address it.”

The Christian response would be to pursue whatever lawful remedies are available, tell the truth, stop any ongoing deception, seek wise legal counsel, make wrongs right where possible, and become willing to accept legitimate consequences. None of those acts purchase salvation. They are the necessary fruits of repentance.

Zacchaeus gives us a helpful pattern in Luke 19.

Jesus did not tell Zacchaeus to repair every wrong before He would enter his house. Grace came first. Jesus sought the sinner.

But grace did not leave Zacchaeus unchanged. His repentance became tangible. He committed himself to restoring what he had wrongfully taken and going beyond minimal repayment. Jesus did not present restitution as the price of salvation; restitution revealed the fruit of a changed heart.

That principle matters here. Repentance is more than feeling bad about the circumstances that resulted from wrongdoing. Where a wrong can be corrected, genuine repentance moves toward correction.

This is also why Onesimus may be relevant, although we should be careful. Philemon does not explicitly tell us everything Onesimus had done. Paul does, however, send him back to Philemon in a context of reconciliation and offers to cover anything Onesimus owes. We should not build an immigration doctrine from Onesimus, but the letter certainly does not celebrate permanent evasion of responsibility.

Scripture does not provide a universal rule requiring that every person who has ever violated a civil law report himself to the government in every circumstance. Laws can be unjust. Authorities can be corrupt. Some offenses may no longer carry an actionable legal obligation. And the Bible recognizes circumstances in which obedience to God requires resistance to rulers.

But there is a big difference between a past violation that cannot now be undone and an ongoing course of conduct that a person knowingly intends to preserve.

For ordinary just laws, repentance should produce a willingness to stop wrongdoing, correct deception, restore what was taken where possible, and accept lawful consequences rather than making continued evasion the plan for the future.

That is not salvation by works. It is the difference between confessing sin and insisting on keeping its benefits at any cost.

Part of the confusion in Christian immigration discussions comes from treating the church and the civil government as though God assigned them the same responsibility.

He did not.

The church is called to preach the gospel, make disciples, care for the vulnerable, practice hospitality, defend the oppressed, feed the hungry, comfort the frightened, and bear witness to truth. Civil government has responsibilities involving public order, law, adjudication, and the punishment of wrongdoing.

A church can therefore minister to an undocumented person without pretending that immigration law does not exist. It can provide food, prayer, pastoral counseling, help for children, transportation to legitimate appointments, competent legal assistance, and support in pursuing lawful asylum or other immigration relief.

Those acts are not the same as deliberately concealing someone to prevent lawful authorities from finding him.

This brings us back to the contemporary hook.

Some churches use the language of sanctuary to describe pastoral care and practical assistance to immigrants. Others have used church property to house people facing removal and to impede or avoid immigration enforcement. Those actions should not be treated as morally identical.

Under current federal law, 8 U.S.C. § 1324 addresses knowingly or recklessly concealing, harboring, or shielding from detection a person who has entered or remains in the United States in violation of law. Whether a particular church activity violates that statute depends on the facts and the governing legal interpretation; ordinary humanitarian assistance is not automatically the same thing as criminal harboring.

Biblically, however, the question is broader than whether prosecutors could prove a statutory offense. If a church deliberately helps someone evade legitimate civil authority, it should be able to explain why obedience to Christ requires that civil disobedience. Compassion by itself does not answer the question, because Scripture commands compassion and ordinarily commands respect for civil authority.

A church should never make immigration status a prerequisite for hearing the gospel or receiving ordinary mercy. But neither should the church disciple a person into the belief that repentance has nothing to say about truthfulness, lawful conduct, or responsibilities toward the society in which he lives.

Sometimes the Old Testament cities of refuge are invoked as biblical precedents for modern sanctuary policies. The comparison is weak.

The cities of refuge in Numbers 35 and Deuteronomy 19 were established primarily for someone who unintentionally caused a death. They protected the accused from immediate blood vengeance while the case could be adjudicated. They did not establish zones where people could escape the ordinary reach of Israel’s law.

In fact, the cities of refuge illustrate the opposite principle: mercy and due process operated within a legal framework. Protection was provided so that justice could be determined properly—not so that legal accountability could be permanently avoided.

This is where the issue becomes practical.

If immigration authorities arrive, Christians do not have to choose between cruelty and obstruction.

We can comfort frightened people. We can care for children and spouses left behind. We can help someone contact a qualified attorney. We can provide food, transportation for family needs, pastoral support, and prayer. We can insist that government agents themselves obey the law and respect due process. Where lawful, citizens may peacefully observe and document suspected misconduct and seek redress through the courts.

At the same time, Christians should ordinarily not physically obstruct officers, destroy evidence, help someone flee, or deliberately conceal a person from lawful authorities merely because they disagree with immigration policy.

Current ICE guidance identifies churches, schools, hospitals, and certain other locations as protected areas for purposes of enforcement discretion. Still, it does not establish a blanket rule that immigration law cannot be enforced there. The 2025 guidance replaced earlier bright-line restrictions with case-by-case enforcement discretion.

That means Christians should also resist exaggerated claims in either direction. A church is not automatically a legally sanctioned enforcement-free sanctuary merely because it is a church. Neither should the possibility of lawful enforcement erase the church’s obligation to minister compassionately to people caught in the process.

Civil disobedience has a real place in Christian history. Christians should not pretend otherwise.

If a government commands Christians to deny Christ, stop preaching the gospel, commit injustice, participate in evil, or violate a clear command of God, “We must obey God rather than men” becomes controlling.

But disagreement over the wisdom, severity, or administration of a law does not automatically prove that the government has commanded sin. Christians can advocate changes in immigration law through lawful political processes. They can criticize enforcement priorities. They can argue that a policy is unjust. They can defend due process. None of that requires claiming that every enforcement action creates a biblical duty to obstruct the authorities.

Civil disobedience should therefore be the conclusion of serious biblical reasoning, not the starting assumption whenever a policy offends our political instincts.

Law enforcement decisions rarely affect only one person.

A spouse may suddenly lose an income. Children may lose daily contact with a parent. A family may face housing, food, transportation, and legal crises simultaneously. Some family members may be citizens or lawfully present even when another member is not.

Christian compassion should be especially visible here. Accountability for one person does not justify indifference toward innocent dependents. Churches can serve families during enforcement without pretending that the underlying legal issue does not exist.

This is one of the places where the church can be most clearly the church: not by erasing every consequence of law, but by refusing to abandon people when consequences become painful.

There is one truth that should govern the tone of this entire discussion.

Before a person is a citizen, immigrant, refugee, asylum seeker, visa holder, undocumented resident, or deportee, that person is a human being made in the image of God.

That does not settle his legal status. It does settle his human worth.

Christians should reject rhetoric that treats foreigners as less than human, just as we should reject arguments that treat law and public order as morally irrelevant. A biblical worldview gives us reasons to care about both human dignity and responsibility.

There are two ditches here, and Christians should avoid both.

One says, “They broke the law, so compassion is unnecessary.” That is not biblical. The commands to love our neighbor, care for the vulnerable, act justly, and show hospitality do not disappear when the person in front of us has sinned or violated a law. If they did, none of us would qualify for mercy.

The other says, “They are vulnerable, so the law does not matter.” That is not biblical either. The Old Testament gēr lived within the community’s legal order. The New Testament commands mercy while also recognizing legitimate civil authority. Repentance does not mean demanding that everyone pretend that wrongdoing has no consequences.

We do not have to choose between those errors.

The immigration debate will continue. Laws will change. Administrations will change. Enforcement priorities will change. Political slogans will change.

The Christian obligation is more enduring: handle Scripture honestly, love our neighbor genuinely, respect the proper role of civil authority, defend justice, and never turn compassion into an excuse for lawlessness—or law into an excuse for a hard heart.

Biblical compassion asks what the community owes the stranger. Biblical repentance also asks what the stranger owes the community.

When you hear the command to “love the stranger,” what do you assume the word stranger means? How would our immigration discussions change if Christians asked both questions: What does the community owe the foreigner—and what does the foreigner owe the community?

·       St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church — Immigrant Support

·       St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church — Social Justice

·       St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church — Committees & Teams

·       The Texas Tribune — reporting on James Talarico and St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church (Feb. 25, 2026)

·       8 U.S.C. § 1324 — Bringing in and harboring certain aliens

·       8 U.S.C. § 1325 — Improper entry

·       ICE — Common Sense Enforcement Actions in or Near Protected Areas (Jan. 31, 2025)

·       Bible Gateway — Genesis 47:4

·       Bible Gateway — Romans 13:1–7; 1 Peter 2:13–17; Acts 5:29

·       STEP Bible — Hebrew and Greek lexical study tools