Podcast Episode: Belonging Across Borders

God’s people have always been aliens and strangers in the world

Stone gateway with a dirt path leading through it toward mountains at sunrise

Pip: If you’ve ever wondered whether the Bible has anything to say about the immigration debate, Kevin Drendel has been following the threads of the biblical fabric on the theme of immigration since 2014 — and the answer turns out to be: quite a lot, and none of it comfortable.

Mara: This episode covers three territories: migration and exile in the biblical narrative, what it means to hold citizenship in heaven over any earthly nation, and how the command to love your neighbor keeps expanding past every boundary we try to draw around it.

Pip: Let’s start with the biblical record on refugees — because it turns out the shepherd-king himself was one.

David, Ruth, and the Refugee Thread in Scripture

Mara: The anchor post here traces a thread running from the exile of Adam and Eve all the way to Revelation 7:9 — and one vivid stop along the way is David, a man on the run from a king who wanted him dead.

Pip: David dodging spears, hiding in the wilderness, and eventually crossing into enemy Philistine territory — David was not always the quintessential insider, the golden boy of the faith. He was once a refugee.

Mara: In that dilemma, “David thought to himself, ‘One of these days I will be destroyed by the hand of Saul. The best thing I can do is to escape to the land of the Philistines. Then Saul will give up searching for me anywhere in Israel, and I will slip out of his hand.'”

Pip: Some commentators criticize that David’s move as a failure of faith. They have a point — but what would any of us would do if people in power were hunting us down.

Mara: That’s where the law-versus-grace tension surfaces. David’s asylum claim, by modern legal standards, would likely be denied — his persecution wasn’t tied to race, religion, or membership in a protected group. Many real refugees today face the same wall: fleeing cartels or generalized violence, with no qualifying category under current law – no clear path to safety, security, and a permanent home.

Pip: And the number of refugees in the world are not small. Over 123 million people displaced globally, 1 in every 67 people on earth, with the average refugee spending about 17 years inrefugee camps.

Mara: The post on Ruth develops the same thread from a different angle. Ruth is a Moabite — a foreigner — who embodies every category of vulnerability Scripture pairs together: widow, orphan, and foreigner. And God chose her story, not an Israelite’s, to sit at the center of His redemption narrative.

Pip: Ruth ends up in the royal lineage that runs straight to David and then to Jesus. The foreigner isn’t a footnote; she’s load-bearing.

Mara: The post on Moses and identity adds another layer. Moses names his firstborn son Gershom — meaning “foreigner in a foreign land” — because that is how he understood himself, raised Egyptian but Hebrew by birth. That outsider identity becomes the foundation for the Mosaic law’s repeated command: love the foreigner, because you were foreigners in Egypt.

Pip: And then People from Beyond closes the loop. Abraham himself is called a Hebrew, meaning “one from beyond” — a man who never owned the land he lived in – though it was the land God promised him – because he knew it was not his ultimate destination.

Mara: David says it plainly near the end of his life, in 1 Chronicles: “We are foreigners and strangers in your sight. Our days on earth are like a shadow.” The displacement isn’t incidental to the story. It is the story.

Pip: Which raises the question of what that identity is supposed to do to us — and that’s where citizenship comes in.

Heaven’s Citizens, Earth’s Sojourners

Mara: The post on foreigners, neighbors, and citizens opens with a single line from Leviticus 24: “You are to have the same law for the foreigner and the native-born.” The post observes that Law is not meant to be merely punitive — if the law binds the foreigner, the same law also shields the foreigner.

Pip: Equal protection as a theological claim, not just a civic one.

Mara: Philippians 3:20 puts it plainly: “Our citizenship is in heaven.” The post on Jubilee and kingdom identity traces how that reorientation was built into the Mosaic law from the start — the Jubilee instructions in Leviticus 25 remind Israel they are temporary dwellers – tenants, not owners, because “the land is mine,” says the Lord.

Pip: And the post on the New Testament theme of embracing citizenship in heaven makes it personal — through the story of a woman who grew up a Christian minority in India, felt the sting of foreignness again as an immigrant in the United States, and found in that double displacement a clarifying gift.

Mara: Her experience reframes minority status not as a problem to solve but as the natural condition of anyone whose primary allegiance is to a kingdom not of this world. The danger, as that post frames it, is belonging too comfortably to any earthly nation.

Pip: That’s the tension that keeps appearing in Scripture — and the neighbor question is where it gets practical.

The Boundary That Keeps Moving

Mara: The post on insider logic opens with the backstory to the Good Samaritan. Second Temple Jews read “love your neighbor as yourself” as applying to fellow Hebrews — the qualifying phrase “among your people” in Leviticus 19:18 gave them cover.

Pip: Sixteen verses later, the same chapter extends the same love to foreigners. They just stopped reading.

Mara: Jesus removes any remaining ambiguity in Matthew 5: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies.” The post calls this the perfection of love — a progression that starts with self and family, moves outward to neighbors and strangers, and doesn’t stop until it reaches enemies.

Pip: Our natural inclination is to draw the circle tight. The Bible keeps redrawing it larger.

Mara: And that’s the throughline across everything here — from David in the wilderness to Ruth in the fields to the command to love without limit. The question isn’t whether God cares about the foreigner. The question is whether we’re reading closely enough to notice.


Pip: Displacement, identity, the boundary of neighbor love — these aren’t separate topics. They’re the same argument made from every angle of Scripture.

Mara: And the posts keep returning to the same pressure point: how we treat the vulnerable stranger is a litmus test for who we actually think we are before God. This theme runs throughout the Bible, from Adam and Eve to Revelation.

Pip: More to come from Navigating by Faith — next time, we’ll see where the thread leads.

How the Bible Cuts Against Insider Logic at Every Turn

Insider logic is the natural inclination of the heart


I am reminded today of the backstory to the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Second Temple Jews interpreted the Law about loving your neighbor as yourself to mean they should love their Hebrew neighbors as themselves. They didn’t extend the law of loving their neighbors to the Gentiles because of Leviticus 19:18:

“Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself.”

They read the qualifying language in that verse – among your people – as a limit to the requirement to love your neighbor as yourself. Just 16 verse slater (in Leviticus 19:33-34), the principle of loving your neighbor is expanded:

“The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners  in Egypt. I am the Lord your God.”

Foreigners are not expressly called neighbors in verse 34, but Israelites were commanded to “love them as yourself” all the same.

It’s easy to see how Jews arrived at their conclusions. Leviticus 19:18 is the first expression of the rule, so they might have assumed it should be given precedence. Foreigners were not called neighbors in verse 34, so there is a distinction to be made. This is how we use Bible verses as proof texts and sneak in our outside assumptions and biases to guide us to an interpretation that makes sense to us – but is wholly inconsistent with the meaning God intended.

How do we know how God intended it? Jesus

When the expert in the law asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life, Jesus turned the table on him and asked, what does the law say. Love God and love your neighbor was the answer, but the expert pressed Jesus to ask, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus responded with the Parable of the Good Samaritan that provides us an expanded interpretation of who is my neighbor. (Luke 10:25-37) In case we might still question that interpretation, Jesus removes all doubt in Matthew 5:43-44:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies….”

We need to do careful biblical exegesis with integrity to avoid proof texting and sneaking in assumptions that are motivated by our natural biases. We need to let Scripture, itself, provide interpretive guidance; we need to let the words of Jesus (the Word made flesh) be an interpretative filter; and we need to let the Spirit guide us. “The letter of the Law kills, but the Spirit gives life.”

People are naturally provincial and tribal. We are naturally inclined and biased in that way. Paul calls our natural inclinations “the flesh,” and he warns us to guard against them. We might call the flesh our “insider logic,” and the Bible cuts against that insider logic at every turn.

Our natural inclinations are to take care of ourselves and our kind first. Our natural inclinations are to view others with suspicion and distrust. Our natural inclinations are to seize and hold onto what I can get for myself and leave others to fend for themselves. Our natural inclinations encourage us to adopt a zero sum gained attitude.

When Jesus tells us to take up our crosses and follow him, he is telling us to let go of our insider logic driven by our naturally biased assumptions. When he says the last shall be first, and the first shall be last, and the greatest among you shall be servants of all, he is cutting against our natural inclinations that inform our insider logic.

When Paul said, “[C]onsider your calling, brothers and sisters, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble,” he was cutting against our how we naturally see ourselves that feeds our insider logic. (1 Cor. 1:26) When Paul said, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus,” he is saying there are no insiders in the kingdom of God. (Gal. 3:8)

Our insider logic makes sense if we begin with our natural inclinations, but the Bible which is God’s revealed word and Jesus, the Word in the flesh, cut against the grain of our insider logic. When we seek first the kingdom of God, we check our privileges and other allegiances at the door.

Continue reading “How the Bible Cuts Against Insider Logic at Every Turn”

The Backstory to the Parable of the Good Samaritan – A Lesson for These Times

“Who is my neighbor?”


The Parable of the Good Samaritan has a backstory in Hebrew Scripture I previously didn’t know, and it relates to our present times. Specifically, it relates to the issue of immigration.

The context of the parable is a question put to Jesus by an expert in the law: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus turned the question back on the expert, asking, “What is written in the law? … How do you read it?”

It’s interesting that Jesus does this. Maybe he wanted the legal expert to think it through for himself, rather than repeat what others have told him.

The expert answered, “’Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

Jesus affirmed his response, and said, “Do this and you will live.”

But, the expert in the law wasn’t satisfied with that answer. He asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” This is where the backstory begins. To understand the backstory, we need to know where in Scripture the law expert was pulling his answers from and what he (and Jews of his time) likely thought about them.

Continue reading “The Backstory to the Parable of the Good Samaritan – A Lesson for These Times”

Who is My Neighbor? And Who is a Neighbor to Me? The Discomfort of Grace.

Grace is exercised among people who are not like you, who challenge you, who are uncomfortable to be around.

I have often touted the Unbelievable Podcast on Christian Premiere Radio in the UK, and I do it again here. I recommended the episode on Philip Yancey live Q&A on faith, doubt and the future of the US church: Saturday 19 March 2022. Much was discussed in the episode that I could write about, but one thing stands out above the rest to me this morning. Philip Yancey said,

“It’s easy to find a church, to gravitate toward a church, where people look like you, and smell like you, and vote like you.”

Most of us go to churches like that. It’s a human tendency to gravitate toward people with whom we have the most connections, to settle in with people with whom we have the most in common, to spend time with people most like us, but Yancey says,

“That’s not the way to exercise grace. Grace is exercised among people who are not like you, who challenge you, who are uncomfortable to be around, people who are immoral. That’s where to exercise grace.”

Such a radical statement challenges most of us, I think. I am guilty of settling into churches where I feel most comfortable, but what if God wants me to engage in a church, or in groups, or with people with whom I feel uncomfortable? Would I be open to that possibility?

Jesus often urged people to love their neighbors. When I think of my neighbors, I think of the people in my neighborhood who I know and spend time with. If you are like me, you probably think immediately of your neighbors you know, but what about your neighbors you don’t know?

Jesus knew that people tend to favor those who are like them when he told the parable of the Good Samaritan. (Luke 25:30-35) In the parable, an unidentified man is attacked by robbers, stripped of his clothes, beaten and left for dead. (Luke 25:30) Three people come along and see him lying there: a priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan.

The priest and the Levite were the people most like the man who asked the question that prompted the parable. He was an expert in the Law of Moses, a Jewish leader.

He actually began with a more esoteric question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus turned the question on him, asking “What is written in the Law?” (Luke 25:25-26)

When the man responded, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself,'”, Jesus answered anti-climatically, “You have answered correctly…. Do this and you will live.”

That might have been the end of the conversation, but the expert in the law “wanted to justify himself”. Perhaps, he wanted affirmation that he was reading the law correctly. Perhaps, he wanted Jesus to acknowledge his deep moral thinking. Perhaps, he wanted to prove his expertise in the Law. Whatever he was thinking, he asked, “[W]ho is my neighbor?” (Luke 25:29)

The man may have wanted Jesus to engage him in a deep theological discussion, but Jesus deflected the attempt with the parable. The expert in the Law wanted to make it difficult and complicated, but Jesus kept it simple.

The man is specifically identified as an “expert in the Law”, and the initial question and follow up question read to me like he was wanting a deeper, philosophical conversation with Jesus. He didn’t really want a simple, straightforward answer. He wanted to debate, but Jesus wouldn’t go there with him.

I am also relatively certain that the answer Jesus gave him was not at all what he expected. It likely cut him to the quick – both he and and the wider audience who was listening in.

Continue reading “Who is My Neighbor? And Who is a Neighbor to Me? The Discomfort of Grace.”