Borders of Belief

One warm summer evening, Lukas reclined on his lounge chair by the pool, scrolling through his phone. “Yay, they’re deporting all those illegals!” he exclaimed.

His roommate, Jing Lee, reclining on a nearby chair soaking up the sun, peered at Lukas, shading his eyes with his hand. “Who?” he asked.

“All those illegal aliens that swarmed the border and invaded America,” Lukas answered. “They shouldn’t be here. They’re stealing American jobs. Mooching off welfare and scamming the system. Leeches sucking us dry. 

“Don’t lots of them have legal status as refugees?” Jing Lee said. They fled from their countries because of war, famine, or political turmoil. Even religious persecution. We’re believers, so we should be sympathetic to that, right?”

“Yeah, sure, Jing. They’re all illegal as far as I’m concerned. They’re vermin, infesting our nation, bringing their filth. It’s not our fault their countries are so crappy. They need to go back to their own garbage countries where they belong.

“You know, as Christians, we’re called to treat people with respect, empathy, and compassion,” said Jing Lee, his voice measured and calm. “There are scriptures that say we should welcome the immigrants and not turn them away.”

Lukas rolled his eyes. “Man, that’s Old Testament stuff; it doesn’t apply to us today.”

“Don’t we still use a lot of Old Testament stuff today?” Jing Lee asked. “Like the Ten Commandments? Proverbs and Psalms? How about the Messianic prophecies of Christ?”

“Well…maybe…but…”

“We use Psalm 139 in the Old Testament to oppose abortion. The verses that say God knit us together in our mother’s womb and knew us before we were ever born. How God knows us intimately and cares for us. Doesn’t that include all of His children, no matter where they’re from, unborn or born?”

“And the prophet Zechariah said we shouldn’t oppress the widows, the orphans, the aliens, and the poor. Even Moses said we should treat the alien who lives amongst us as a citizen, and love the alien as ourselves.” 

Lukas frowned and crossed his arms. “You’re taking scripture out of context. That was meant for the Israelites, not us. These people invading America are rotten to the core.”

“Well, in any group, there are going to be a few rotten apples,” Jing Lee admitted, “and if they commit a crime, they should be deported. But I doubt the majority is bad. I think most of them are people like us who are seeking a better life. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“They’re all rotten apples,” Lukas snapped angrily. “They’re poisoning the blood of America. They need to go back to the hellhole they came from. We don’t want them here.” 

“Well, there’s the New Testament then,” Jing Lee continued. “Jesus spoke about welcoming strangers — remember Matthew 25, where He talks about caring for the least of these? 

Lukas snorted. “Well, of course, I answer the door to strangers when they ring the doorbell.” 

“You missed my point,” Jing laughed. What about the writer of Hebrews, who said we shouldn’t neglect the stranger because we might be entertaining angels unaware? Christianity’s message is one of love and inclusion, not hate and exclusion.”

“You’re preaching, man.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to,” Jing Lee said, “but I kind of get fired up about this.” 

“We don’t have to let them in our country, Jing. Lots of them are criminals and gang members, or drug dealers and rapists  — real scum. Even the president said so.”

“My family came to America as refugees from Myanmar before I was born,” Jing Lee protested. “They weren’t criminals. They’re here legally and have permanent resident cards, but they aren’t U.S. citizens yet. It’s a long process. Should they be deported too?”

“Of course not; that’s ridiculous,” Lukas said, his voice softening. “I know your parents; they’re good people. They’re not like the others.” 

“I doubt they’re much different from most other migrants that have come here recently,” said Jing Lee. “To be honest, I’m not sure that even my parents are safe from deportation right now. What prevents the government from revoking their legal status and sending them back?” 

“Not gonna happen, Jing. Your parents are safe.” 

“Think of this, Lukas. We have a chance as believers to evangelize them and lead them to Christ. We can fulfill the Great Commission right here without even leaving America. It’s like God has sent the mission field straight to us!”  

“Look, Jing, you can’t convince me. You’re not going to beat me over the head with scripture or logic. If they’re not saved, we can send missionaries to them in their own land. We just don’t want them here.” Lukas rose from his chair and stomped noisily into the house. 

Jing Lee leaned back in his lounger and watched the sun straddle the horizon with a brilliant display of yellow, orange, and red reflecting in the wispy clouds. He pondered his conversation with Lukas.

Lukas wasn’t a cruel man. He occasionally served meals at the local rescue mission. In the summer, he volunteered as a youth baseball coach, patiently teaching kids who needed a positive influence in their lives. And every year, he went on the church mission trip to a foreign land to help struggling families in a remote village. 

Jing Lee wondered how Christians could read the same Bible and hold such different views. The words of Jesus came to mind: 

“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 my brethren, you did it to me.”

Matthew 25:35,40