For decades it has been a common sight at sporting events, rallies, concerts – everywhere that television cameras capture public spectators.  Somewhere in the crowd someone holds up a large sign bearing a word and two numbers: “John 3:16.”  An evangelistic tool, a simplified one-sentence summary of the Gospel, an encapsulation of the heart of the individualized and other-worldly dimensions of the Christian message.  The old King James Version renders it: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”  The John 3:16 sign has become a symbol of evangelical witness in the public realm.  But is this statement of Jesus all there really is to Christianity?  Never mind that the very next verse – John 3:17 – takes the focus off of the decision of the individual and emphasizes God’s grace and love which extends inclusively to all of humanity: “For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”  There is a lot more to Christianity than the matter of where you go when you die.  There is also the question of what kind of person you should be in the meanwhile.

The Church has insisted for two millennia that a hallmark of Christianity is caring for those who are marginalized.  Not that Christians have always done this, but most have at the very least paid lip service to the idea that God cares for the oppressed and the outcast in a special way.  In fact, in Luke’s version of the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, we read him announce that his mission is to tend to the have-nots of this world:

“When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’  And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down.  The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.  Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’” (Luke 4:16-21 NRSV)

The text from Isaiah which Jesus read mentions the poor, the blind, and the oppressed as those to whom God is extending glad tidings.  The question for Christians today is, “Who are the poor, the blind, and the oppressed in our times?”  Fortunately, none of us has to look very far.  Every society from then until now has had its share of misfits and unfortunate folk.  Social taboos, economic injustice, and plain bad luck have kept a steady supply of paupers, outcasts, and afflicted people to whom the Church might minister.  Among the segment of those in need in the 21^st century United States are migrant workers, also referred to as illegal immigrants.

This is not a discussion of the economic impact of immigration, nor is it a purely political statement about American policy.  This is, rather, a plea for Christians in America to extend hospitality, friendship, and lovingkindness to aliens in their midst.  It is natural – perhaps even appropriate – for a nation-state to act according to its own self-interest.  Christians, on the other hand, are to act in the interest of the marginalized, to put the needy above themselves, to share what they believe to be God’s blessings with those who are not equally blessed.  Christians are not entitled.  The Apostle Paul makes it clear that Gentile Christians have been accepted through grace into God’s eternal covenant, that they neither earned nor deserved God’s favor (Romans 11:17-24), that their proper relationship to God is that of adopted children (Galatians 4:5).  In other words, Christians know what it is like to be in a position of disadvantage, so their newfound advantage should prompt them to humility and charity, not to arrogance and entitlement.

The same story was told to the Hebrew people as they prepared to enter into Canaan.  There was a danger that, once they occupied the Promised Land, they would forget their humble beginnings and start to abuse others the way they had been abused during their time of slavery in Egypt.  So God issued a decree, repeated several times in the Torah, encouraging the new residents of the Land Flowing with Milk and Honey to share their good fortune with strangers.  “You shall not oppress a resident alien; you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt” (Exodus 23:9 nrsv).  Simple, concise, to-the-point.  And perfectly applicable to the contemporary American situation.  Not only are virtually all “established” American citizens (Native Americans excluded) the descendents of immigrants, but all Christian Americans are also bound by the duty to extend hospitality and fellowship to those less fortunate than they are (as a Christian, I am in no position to speak about the imperatives of Exodus 23:9 for the Jewish-American community, though certainly the recent stance of the Swiss Federation of Jewish Communities in solidarity with [often migrant] Swiss Muslims demonstrates this same principle in action).

Kindness to immigrants is not a uniquely Judeo-Christian value.  The popular ideal of America as a “Land of Opportunity,” has long summoned Americans to welcome newcomers.  Emma Lazarus’s immortal The New Colossus engraved at the base of the Statue of Liberty beckons:

Give me your tired, your poor / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free / The wretched refuse of your teeming shore / Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me / I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

This principle has not always been embodied – one need think no further than the quotas on Jews in the American Immigration Act of 1924 and the subsequent turning away of MS St. Louis, an ocean liner packed in 1939 with 930 Jewish refugees trying to flee Nazi atrocities.  When the ship was turned away from Cuban and American ports it was forced to return to Europe, where several hundred perished in the Holocaust.  Alarmists and destructive immigration attitudes are therefore not limited to the Church; America (and many, many other nations) has treated the issue in morally dubious ways for ages.  Nevertheless, there may be a special theological imperative incumbent upon Christians to eliminate xenophobia from their worldview.

Christians are to be kind to strangers, to be sacrificially generous toward those rendered less fortunate by life circumstances.  The fear mongering, fiscal selfishness, and abject racism behind the Minutemen Project and the wall on the U.S.-Mexico border reflect the antithesis of Christian values.  It is time for Christians – particularly those who are more privileged – to take a stand in solidarity with migrant workers.  Perhaps one day we will turn on the television to see someone in an audience holding up a sign reading, “Exodus 23:9.”  Standing with, caring for, and living amongst the socially marginalized: that is more of a Christian witness than simply displaying a placard reading, “John 3:16.”