Archive for category: immigration

In re-reading our respective second contributions to this dialogue on immigration policy, it became clear that both my conversation partner, Robert, and I were at least a bit frustrated by the other’s first essay.

Guilty as Charged: Changing the Question

Robert fairly observed that I effectively “changed the question,” suggesting that a more practical question was not whether US immigration laws and deportation practices are just, but how they could be made more just.

So, to be more forthright: I do not think that US immigration policy and deportation practices are just—and I laid out several of the reasons: US immigration laws have been only inconsistently enforced, which has eroded public trust in the rule of law. Immigrants coming from economically desperate situations have been restricted from immigrating lawfully (by visa quotas codified by statute—in some cases, more than fifty years ago), but effectively tolerated, employed, and invited to pay taxes if they manage to enter or overstay a visa unlawfully, which creates a moral hazard.

Some immigrants have, because their illegal status makes them fearful of law enforcement, become victims of dramatic labor abuses and even situations of human trafficking. The labor dynamics are unjust for Americans as well: employers who do strictly abide by employment authorization laws are at a competitive disadvantage as compared to competitors who flout the law, as are American citizen workers appropriately unwilling to accept dangerous or illegal labor conditions, but who compete with individuals who feel unable to demand the enforcement of labor laws (because their unscrupulous employers threaten that if they report these abuses, they will be reported to Immigration and Customs Enforcement and deported).

Immigrants held in detention while awaiting a removal hearing, many of whom have never been convicted of any crime (charged only with a violation of civil immigration law), are often unable to afford even a phone card to talk to loved ones or an attorney unless they agree to work for $1 per day within civilian immigrant detention centers. Ironically, given that for some their only infraction was working without authorization, such “volunteer” work at just cents per hour is apparently legal in the detention center (though several lawsuits are challenging this practice).

And children who did not make a choice to immigrate, who either were brought as children to the country or who were born in the US to unauthorized immigrant parents, too often grow up without the stability of a two-parent family as a result of the deportation of one or both parents, which certainly is not just toward them (even if one believes it is a just action toward their parents in particular cases).

So, no, I do not believe that our immigration system is fully just. But there are many ways in which it is just and functions quite well, in the interest of our economy, our society, and also the immigrants who benefit from the system. I’ve witnessed several naturalization ceremonies where refugees who were invited by the U.S. State Department to rebuild their lives in the freedom and safety of the U.S. pledge their allegiance to the country that has magnanimously welcomed them in as fellow participants in the American democracy. I have seen families reunited through family reunification visas, who then support one another through the process of cultural adjustment and societal integration. I have seen victims of horrific domestic violence, whose abusive U.S. citizen husbands used their lack of legal status to coercively keep their wives from calling the police to report the crimes of which they were victims, be granted legal status through the Violence Against Women Act and find the freedom to report crimes. And I have seen abusers and others who have engaged in violent crime appropriately penalized with deportation.  

Our system has elements of justice and elements of injustice. There are and—this side of God establishing in full his kingdom of justice and righteousness—always will be unjust elements within every human system. It’s not that I do not believe there is a standard of justice, but Robert is right in a sense to say that I think of justice as a sliding scale: I do not believe that perfect standard of justice will ever be achieved short of God’s Kingdom in its fullness, because all systems of justice are implemented by fallen human beings.

But that does not mean justice is not worth pursuing: we are commanded to pray for (and, I believe, work towards) God’s kingdom here “on earth, as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). Similarly, I do not think any state or nation’s criminal justice system is perfectly just: I suspect every system has some percentage of convictions that are wrongful—when an individual is convicted of a crime of which he or he is not actually guilty—whether because of imperfect information or a biased judge or jury (and that even before we examine whether the laws being enforced themselves are just, which would be harder to quantify). But I would still much rather live in a society where one percent of criminal convictions were wrongful than a society where fifty percent are: moving toward a more just system matters, and I believe it is the most that is possible of our human efforts to “seek justice” on earth.

Policies are ultimately the results of politics, and politics will never achieve perfect justice. Peter Wehner, reflecting on the experience of having served in the White House under President Reagan and both Presidents Bush, writes:

I understand that governing involves complicated choices, transactional dealings and prudential judgments. No one ever gets things exactly right, and all who choose to serve deserve our prayers for wisdom. Politics is certainly not a place for the pursuit of utopia and moral perfection; rather, at its best, it is about achieving the best approximation of the public good, about protecting human dignity and advancing, even imperfectly, a more just social order. That is why Christians shouldn’t exile themselves from politics.

That’s why I find it more reasonable to ask what a more just policy would look like, proposing specifics guided by my best understanding—flawed as it may be, informed by my fallible reading of Scripture and my personal relationships—of what would constitute “a more just social order.”

Deferring on the Question

Robert was—perhaps fairly—frustrated by my changing of the question, and that I failed to establish my basis for how I understand justice, jumping right into policy proposals. Conversely, I was frustrated because I finished his first piece, and then his second, and I still do not know whether he thinks US immigration policies are just: if I changed the question which I chose to answer, he spent 6,000 words reflecting on the complexity of the question, but never really answered it, at least to my satisfaction. When it comes to the specific policy proposals I advocated as vehicles for reaching a more just immigration system—such as adjusting the number of immigrant visas available under US law—Robert “would defer to the democratic process regarding such important prudential questions.”

I’m not advocating that I should be given authoritarian powers to subvert the will of the American people as expressed through our democratic processes, but part of our democratic process is, when we think a system can be improved, to seek to persuade. I affirm that these decisions are prudential: my argument is not that justice—whether defined by the Bible or John Rawls or any other particular philosophy—clearly requires a specific number of immigrant visas, but that it is reasonable to conclude that an immigration policy that more closely matched labor market demands would ultimately lead to a more just outcome. If that wouldn’t, in Robert’s view, result in a more just situation, I’d genuinely like to hear his proposals for what would, but I found his arguments light on specifics.

As I argued in my second piece, I’m very passionate about these issues, first and foremost, because they are so personal to me. The individuals whose interaction with our immigration system I would describe as unjust are, in many cases, close friends of mine. I feel a sense of responsibility, given that our system of government is responsive to the advocacy and voting habits of citizens (including me), to at least do my best to propose solutions, even if I acknowledge they will not fully remedy every injustice.

Addressing the Facts

Robert also made two points that I ought to address regarding disagreements on the facts, since, as he rightly notes, we cannot very well agree on a (more) just solution if we cannot agree on the current situation.

I stated in my first essay that, in the 1850s when my immigrant ancestors came to the US, “there were no federal immigration laws and thus no way to immigrate illegally.” Robert noted, accurately, that there were federal laws addressing naturalization on the books by 1850—but they governed who could become a U.S. citizen (according to the 1802 law that governed in 1850: “any alien, being a free white person” who met certain other requirements), not who could immigrate to (arrive in and reside on a permanent basis in) the United States, which remained unrestricted at the federal level until around 1880. As Robert notes, there were some state-level restrictions on immigration, often fueled by anti-Catholic sentiment, prior to 1850—but an intending immigrant of this era could always have entered through a state without such restrictions, because there were not immigration restrictions in all states or at the federal level.

My basic point here is that when many Americans—including me for most of my life, before I began working in immigration law—believe that immigrants ought to just come “the legal way the way that my grandparents [or great-grandparents or great-great-grandparents] did,” we often do so without realizing how dramatically federal policies have changed since our ancestors’ era. I legitimately believed for most of my life that immigrants present unlawfully were in their situation because they were either too uninformed or too lazy to “get legal,” and my interactions at local churches throughout the country suggest to me that this presumption is quite widespread. I’m not advocating a return to a situation where anyone could immigrate to the U.S. without limit, but I do think we should understand the historical reality before bragging about our immigration-law-abiding ancestors’ moral superiority to immigrants today. As I’ve noted elsewhere, it’s analogous to a basketball coach bragging that his team scored 100 points, compared to the ten points earned by a baseball team: the boast is illogical since the rules of the game are wildly different.

Robert’s point, though, that anti-immigrant sentiment (which was often synonymous with anti-Catholic sentiment) was widespread in 1850 is absolutely accurate, and I believe relevant to our contemporary debates over immigration. Today, of course, I think it’s fairly rare to encounter Americans whose primary concern about immigration is that newcomers might be Catholic, or that their commitment to papal authority would make it impossible to affirm constitutional and democratic values. But, as Messiah College historian John Fea has observed, these sentiments are not all that far off from the concerns that many Americans—particularly, according to polling, white evangelical Christians—have about Muslim immigrants. I’m not arguing that Catholicism (which I believe to be an orthodox expression of the Christian faith) and Islam (which, of course, is not) are synonymous, but I do believe that principles of religious liberty—which too many Protestants failed to apply to Catholics in the mid-19^th century—also should be applied fairly to Muslims (or those of any other religious tradition) today. 

Another disputed fact came from my parenthetical assertion that “chain migration is basically a myth.” What I meant by that was what I explained in the preceding sentence: that, “contrary to popular misperception, it is not possible to petition for one’s cousins, grandparents, or other extended family members” under existing US immigration law. My understanding of the idea of “chain migration” is essentially what President Trump stated in his State of the Union address: that our family reunification laws allow a single immigrant to sponsor “virtually unlimited numbers of distant relatives.” I do not dispute that our immigration laws allow U.S. citizens and lawful permanent residents to petition for particular family members (all relationships I would consider my close relatives: parents, spouse, children, siblings), nor that this is the most common avenue for lawful migration under existing law—in fact, I think I explained that system in some detail in my first piece. But this is very different than the president’s conception of “chain migration,” which I believe is held by many Americans, that existing laws allow a “virtually unlimited number” of “distant” relatives. That conception is what I maintain is “basically a myth,” since family petitions are limited to those relatives allowed in statute (not cousins, grandparents, etc.). On average, an immigrant to the U.S. petitions for fewer than two relatives in a lifetime, which is far from the exponential growth that a “virtually unlimited number” suggests.

Where We Agree

I readily concur, though, with Robert’s last point, reflecting on a biblical theme:  immigration is used as one of the central metaphors for the Christian life. “Our citizenship is in heaven” (Philippians 3:20) and on this earth we are (depending on the English translation), aliens, strangers, exiles, and sojourners (Hebrews 11:13, 1 Peter 2:11).

For those of us who are followers of Christ, our primary identity ought not to be as Americans, nor as Republicans or Democrats, nor as “citizens of this world”—but in Christ. All other allegiances should be secondary, without any that could even come near to rivaling our primary identity.

This belief has some ramifications for how Christians who also are Americans think about immigration policy. It’s a caution against merging “God” and “country” as a single entity in our minds, as if our patriotism and loyalty to our country of origin (while not wrong if rightly ordered) were synonymous with our Christian faith. This mindset can lead us to so elevate the United States that we are unwilling to invite others into the blessing of this country, lest they take a part of what we view as ours (falling into a “fixed pie fallacy” that presumes that more people in the country necessarily means less for those of us already here). As recipients of Christ’s lavish generosity, as naturalized citizens of his kingdom (Ephesians 2:11-20), we can be open-handed toward others, trusting God to both provide for and protect us.

On the other hand, as Robert alludes to, the biblical teaching that our citizenship is in heaven is a helpful corrective to a view that imagines the U.S. as a “perceived heaven on earth,” and thus immigration to the U.S. as an unqualified good. As commentator Luma Simms rightly observes, beyond the question of whether immigration is good for the United States, we also must ask whether immigration is good for immigrants. If the U.S. were the kingdom of God, the answer would always be “yes”—but the U.S. is certainly not the kingdom of God, and we err if for a moment we think it is (or is something close to it). I believe we can and should show kindness and hospitality to immigrants (Robert has affirmed he does as well), but I believe Robert is wise to caution that Christian immigration advocates not imply that immigration to the U.S. is always a good thing. When emigration is a decision made under duress, forced by persecution or hunger, it may be a lesser tragedy than staying put, but it is still grievous.

In fact, while I find the language of “comprehensive immigration reform” useful as shorthand for a package of policy changes designed to be politically palatable for those on different sides of the immigration debate, I’m concerned that our policy proposals are actually insufficiently comprehensive. They usually do little to nothing to address the situations that inspire or in some cases compel individuals to emigrate in the first place, including extreme poverty, conflict, war, and environmental degradation. I believe a truly comprehensive approach to immigration would include doing all we can—both governmentally and through local churches and other non-governmental organizations—to make living conditions outside the U.S. more just, so that fewer would feel that emigration was their best option.

Robert’s concern with the centrality of spreading the gospel globally is also something I can readily affirm, and indeed much of our work at World Relief, where I work, is focused internationally on holistic church-based programs where poverty alleviation and disciple-making are integrally connected. I believe that immigration also presents an opportunity for proclaiming the gospel within the U.S. and in other immigrant-receiving countries. I fear, though, that the rhetoric employed by too many Christians regarding immigrants—viewing them (not just an action to enter without inspection or overstay a visa) as “illegal,” calling children “anchor babies,” broadly stereotyping Mexican immigrants as rapists and drug-dealers or Muslim immigrants as terrorists—is a poor witness, repelling people from the message of the gospel.

To the contrary, when the church lives into the biblical commands to welcome immigrants—in practical, tangible ways in local communities, but also in advocating for their wellbeing by seeking changes to public policies—I believe we can be the “fragrant aroma” of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:15), drawing people to Jesus much the way that the smell of freshly-baked bread entices me in as I walk by a bakery.

As I noted in my first essay, while I have strong opinions about immigration policy (some of which likely coincide with Robert’s views—I look forward to reading his promised perspective on what justice would look like for those who have benefitted from the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program—while others of which may not), my primary passion is to see the church respond well, in ways consistent with the biblical witness and true to the character of Jesus, to immigrants themselves. To the extent that, as polls have shown, most evangelical Christians do not take their cues on immigration issues from the Bible, but from media accounts, personal experience, or political talking points, I fear that we are at risk of missing a divinely orchestrated opportunity for the church in the U.S. to faithfully love our immigrant neighbors, practice hospitality, make disciples of all nations, and seek God’s justice.

Changing the Question

In my first essay I highlighted the importance of carefully defining the terms in our leading questions. What is immigration law? What is justice? Achieving mutual understanding of the terms of our question is the starting point for a meaningful (and respectful) conversation.

In the second sentence of his first essay, Matthew changes the question. “A better question,” he writes, “might be: how can we pursue more just immigration policies, particularly for those of us whose understanding of justice is defined by our Christian faith?” The reason for this change, Matthew asserts, is that “whether a nation’s current immigration laws and deportation policies are just is a question too complex for a binary ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

I must confess that I find this start to our conversation quite frustrating. First, it is hard to engage leading questions by altering the questions themselves. Second, I do not understand how the suggested modification is less complex than the original leading question?

Why is it “too complex” to say “yes” or “no” to a question about the justice of current immigration laws? Is it too difficult to identify the content of our current immigration laws? Perhaps the point being made is that our current immigration laws are too complex. Or is it too difficult to evaluate current immigration laws according to standards of justice? Or both?

Or is there simply no answer to the leading question? Perhaps Matthew is suggesting that there is no standard of justice which can produce a yes or no answer – that justice is merely a sliding scale, and the best we can hope for is something a little “more just” than the present. I do not understand justice to be a spectrum. I do not understand what is meant by a little more just. Again, this misunderstanding rests on a failure to define the term justice – and it appears that Matthew and I may be discussing two different concepts.

What is even more frustrating is that Matthew’s suggested alteration of the first leading question presumes (without offering explanation) that current immigration laws and practices are, in fact, unjust. Such a presumption is necessary to enable one to recommend changes intended to make laws and practices “more just”. As I noted in my first essay, one claiming that current laws or practices are not just must (1) identify the law or practice he is evaluating; (2) identify the standard of justice being used to evaluate the law (i.e., are we discussing retributive justice, distributive justice, or something else); and (3) explain how current laws and practices fail to meet this standard.  

Instead of clearly identifying how current laws are unjust, Matthew begins our conversation by assuming (as fact) the very thing we are called to discuss – that current immigration laws and practices are not just. And he does this without providing a clear articulation of the standard of justice he is using, or the ways in which current laws are unjust. This rhetorical move does not make way for very good conversation.

Misstating the facts

Matthew also makes a few critical misstatements of fact that confuse our conversation. He makes a striking claim in his essay that “in the 1850s, there were no federal immigration laws and no way to immigrate illegally.” As a matter of fact, federal immigration law did exist in the 1850s.

As I noted in my prior essay, Congress, exercising the powers granted to it in the Constitution, first began regulating immigration with the Naturalization Act of 1790. By the 1850s, Congress had replaced the original Naturalization Act with the Naturalization Law of 1802. Congress also placed duties upon ship captains to report all migration into the United States in the Steerage Act of 1819. These federal laws regarding immigration law were later amended, but they were existing federal law through the 1850s.

In addition to federal laws pertaining to immigration existing in the 1850s, a significant number of state and local laws regulating immigration were also on the books. By the 1850s, many of these local laws reacted to Irish Catholic immigration (which began in earnest in 1816). In 1849, in the famous Passenger Cases, the Supreme Court determined that Congress alone has the constitutional power to regulate immigration. Prior to this case, many states had been in the immigration law business. The Court struck down existing New York and Massachusetts laws impeding immigration. Matthew’s assertion that there were no immigration laws existing in the 1850s is, at best, an over-simplification. Such over-simplification makes it appear that at one time Americans welcomed all immigrants with open arms, and invites ignorance of anti-Catholic bias that permeated immigration laws in the United States in the 1800s. Racial, ethnic, religious, and other biases are present in immigration laws throughout our nation’s history. Changing the facts to suit one’s present argument forecloses accurate assessment of the justice (or injustice) of our nation’s historic immigration laws and practices.     

Later in his essay, Matthew claims that chain migration is “basically a myth.” This statement is also striking. In fact, as NPR recently explained, the family reunification program, also commonly known as chain migration, accounts for 37% of all visas presently granted by the United States. The priority of familial reunification in current immigration policy is clearly revealed in government data regarding the number of visas granted over the last several years. Denying that chain migration exists merely confuses policy debate. In fact, the question of whether the United States ought to prioritize visas on the basis of familial status rather than other factors is central to the policy debate regarding comprehensive immigration reform. Obscuring this policy question by claiming that chain migration does not presently exist is not helpful.

Incomplete Biblical Analysis

Like many evangelicals, Matthew’s proposals for a “more just” immigration policy rest upon his understanding of the authority of scripture. He notes his commitment to “an evangelical Christian tradition that unabashedly proclaims that the Bible should be the top authority for addressing any complex issue.”

Like many evangelicals, Mathew begins his analysis of U.S. immigration law and policy by citing verses from the Old Testament. He observes that “the Hebrew word for an immigrant (or, in various English translations, the stranger, sojourner, foreigner or alien), transliterated as ger, appears 92 times in the Old Testament alone.” These many references, Matthew contends, “reveal a great deal about the unchanging character of God and of how he defines justice, including, specifically for the immigrant.”

Matthew concedes that the Bible is not a policy manual to be used by legislators, and that Old Testament law ought not be imported directly into the United States code. This concession is necessary, of course, because not all of the Old Testament law would fit comfortably with Matthew’s policy preferences. For example, consider Deuteronomy 15:3. This portion of the Old Testament law allowed discrimination between Israelite and foreigner in the payment and collection of debts. Or consider Leviticus 25:44-46. This portion of Old Testament law permitted Israelites to purchase foreigners as slaves, and to bequeath foreign slaves to their heirs. Other Old Testament passages required obedient Israelites to destroy nations, and the people occupying them. Selectively citing the Old Testament invites questions about passages omitted.

There is a more significant problem in Matthew’s argument. He cites the number of references to immigrants in the Old Testament (specifically, the word ger). As others have noted, this sort of Biblical argument in support of immigration policy preferences is not convincing because the Biblical interpretive method is incomplete. The Old Testament uses a number of different terms when revering to citizens of other nations, and these different terms indicate different lawful status for foreign citizens in Israel. Citing one of these terms, but ignoring the others, leads to poor interpretation and understanding.

Biblical Principles

Matthew also identifies “a few” of the Biblical principles he believes are contained in Scripture regarding immigration. These include:

1. Immigrants are people made in the image of God.
2. Many Old Testament figures lived as immigrants.
3. God protects immigrants.
4. God loves immigrants.
5. God commanded the Israelites to love immigrants.
6. God’s justice is concerned with the treatment of immigrants.

On the basis of these principles, Matthew reasons that American policy (and law) should be made “more just.” Specifically, he contends that Congress should “increase the number of immigrant visas available – not without limit, but to better approximate the needs of the U.S. labor market.” He also asserts that immigration laws in the United States are necessary, but that enforcement should be achieved by fines rather than deportation. Matthew suggests that this solution is a “middle way” between amnesty and mass deportation. And it appears that he is suggesting that this solution is Biblically sound (and perhaps required?)

I agree with all of the Biblical principles Matthew identifies. All people (immigrants and non-immigrants, documented and undocumented) are made in God’s image and entitled to respect. God indeed loves the entire world, so much that he gave the entire world His only son. Christian’s ought not, therefore, treat immigrants (whether legal or illegal) as less than human. God’s justice is indeed concerned with our treatment of all people, especially those who are often marginalized and forgotten.

These truths, however, do not compel agreement with the immigration policies Matthew proposed. God’s love for immigrants, and His command that we love immigrants, does not require that immigrants have easier access to citizenship in the United States. It is striking that many evangelical advocates for immigration reform seem to presume that permanent status in the United States is akin to a natural right. That God intends for all who want to become citizens to have a right to do so.

Matthew’s argument is a little more complex, because he acknowledges that the United States needs immigration laws. Such laws necessarily exclude. Immigration laws also necessarily discriminate (unless the law selects a random lottery as the means of choosing who is granted status and who is not). Immigration laws establish preferences, and prioritize access to citizenship on the basis of a country’s own internal political objectives.

So the questions Matthew must address are (1) how should the United States determine how many visas to grant each year?; and (2) assuming Matthew agrees that the number of visas granted annually must be limited, how should the United States distribute this limited resource?

Other Relevant Biblical Principles – Borders, Law, and Justice

There are a number of other Biblical principles relevant to this conversation which make clear that God loves all the world (not just those who live in the United States).

Borders are important. This is a principle running throughout the Bible.

Deuteronomy 32:8, for example, explains that “When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind, he fixed the borders of the peoples according to the number of the sons of God.” Boundaries are referenced in the wisdom literature (i.e., Proverbs 22:28, 23:10-11). And God’s deliverance of His people from slavery in Egypt culminated in the entry of His people into the physical borders of the promised land.

Borders make possible cultures, homelands, safety, security, and a number of other human goods related to the flourishing of political communities. As Peter Hitchens recently explained, “without borders, we would dwell in a global parking lot. A reasonable love of where you live, its customs, landscape, language, and humor, is the basis for all other communal loves.” Borders enable nations to create and maintain the conditions necessary for other important institutions to thrive.

Within borders, God has ordained civil government. Romans 13:1-7, I Peter 2:13-17, and Titus 3:1 are among the passages teaching that God has chosen civil government as a means of securing justice on earth. Those concerned with thinking Biblically must integrate these passages into their thinking about matters such as immigration. There are also many passages regarding God’s desire for the just to leave at peace with all men so far as is possible without disobedience to God. Living within a nation unlawfully is a situation that is anything but peaceful. Christians ought to seek to uphold and obey the law.

Matthew acknowledges the Biblical mandate for civil government and the rule of law. He also agrees that the responsibility to obey the law applies to immigrants as well as citizens. Here we both agree. And I am grateful for his willingness to acknowledge this responsibility.

One of the things often neglected in arguments for immigration reform is the responsibility of all to obey the law. “Equal justice under law” requires that all individuals comply with the same legal norms. Ancient understandings of justice understand that it is unjust to ignore non-compliance with legal norms. Socrates, for example, faced capital punishment rather than escaping from prison at the urging of his friend Crito because he understood justice to require obedience to the law.

Justice recognizes that those who are complying with those norms are thus made equal, and that disregarding willful violation of norms is thus unjust. This reality is well-illustrated in the immigration context by considering those who enter the United States unlawfully and then seek amnesty. Those concerned with extending amnesty to those who entered unlawfully are not motivated by a desire to be unkind or unloving. They are seeking justice. They are concerned that amnesty would reward those who ignored (or willfully disobeyed) immigration law at the expense of those who’ve been seeking lawful entry.

Matthew agrees that laws ought to be enforced. So here he and I agree about the requirements of justice. He makes a further argument regarding the penalty for non-compliance. Fines ought to be paid by those who break immigration laws – followed by a pathway to earning citizenship. I view this argument to be an effort to remedy the injustice created by the violation of the law. And I agree that this is a better proposal that outright amnesty.

But the further argument (that fines are preferable to deportation) is where I am confused. Is the argument that Biblical thinking requires Christians to support policies allowing immigrants to remain in the United States? Is there a natural right to immigrate to the U.S.? Is the argument that justice requires that the United States make access to permanent citizenship accessible to more? Or is the argument simply that the United States should make more visas available as a matter of kindness (or mercy)?

One of the most significant points in Matthew’s essay is his claim that many individuals desiring to immigrate have no options. For many foreign citizens, he argues, there is no line to wait in, no pathway to citizenship. And this seems to be his central concern about U.S. immigration law. There are a limited number of visas available, and current U.S. law restricts access to those visas to those already having families in the United States, those who have already found employment, or those who win the diversity lottery. So he argues that Christians ought to support more visas, and more pathways into the United States.

It may be right that there needs to be comprehensive immigration reform to adjust our immigration system to the economic and political needs of the present day. But this may mean reducing legal immigration. I would defer to the democratic process regarding such important prudential questions.

Whether Matthew is proposing policies for democratic consideration, or whether he is arguing that all Christians ought to support his preferred policy as a matter of justice is unclear. If it is the latter, I have not been convinced that justice requires the policies he is proposing.

Live as Strangers and Aliens

My main concern with Matthew’s argument is that his use of the Bible detracts from one of the most important themes of all of scripture. The gospel message powerfully unites all people. Christ died for all, and all who believe in Him are united in His church. The church transcends national borders. And we who believe are called to life in a new Kingdom.

In the words of the Apostle Peter, “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.” (I Peter 2:10-11).  

As Christians, we are called to more than welcoming strangers, sojourners, and exiles. We are called to live as exiles in the world. I agree with Matthew that American Christians ought to seek to know, love, respect, and assist immigrants who are living among us. But our calling is to more than securing for them citizenship in the United States – we are called to walk with them in the Kingdom of Heaven. We are called to learn from them what it is like to live as an alien – so that we can better understand our own citizenship in Heaven.

A friend of mine has served as a missionary in a foreign country for more than a decade. In a recent conversation with him, he advised me that he was reluctant to bring members of the churches where he works with him to the United States on his sabbatical visits. I asked him to explain, and he advised that the trip to the U.S. would “ruin” them. By this he meant that these brothers in Christ would take their eyes off of their citizenship in Heaven and begin running toward the perceived heaven on earth – America. These brothers in Christ are needed in their home nation – to spread the gospel, and to serve the church there. Perhaps this is why Christ commissioned us to go into the world – rather than to bring the world to us.

Concluding Remarks – DACA

One of Matthew’s most compelling points, and one of the most pressing present issues, concerns the DACA program. I agree with Matthew’s assessment that children who were brought to the United States (and who consider the U.S. home) ought to be treated (as a matter of justice) differently than those who brought them here illegally. I intend to address this issue in my final essay.

Conversations are essential to human well-being. Consider Tom Hank’s character in the film Castaway. Isolation exposed what he had previously taken for granted – his social nature. The humanity in Hank’s character particularly craved conversation, so much so that he memorably began talking to Wilson – a face painted on a volleyball.

Oddly, as our world has grown digitally interconnected, it appears that we find in ourselves a growing sense of isolation. And this isolation seems to be polarizing. One cannot spend much time on social media without wondering what is going on there. Perhaps perceived anonymity online causes some to forget that they are talking to (and about) other human beings. And God help us if controversial topics are posted in a friend’s status line on the social media feed. Should I “un-friend them” or block their posts? In this world dominated by tweets, selfies, and instagrams – we are facing real danger of finding ourselves stranded, isolated, and alone.

It is very refreshing to enter a digital space intentionally designed to nourish our humanity by bringing us together in Respectful Conversations. I am grateful to Harold Heie for his invitation to participate in this month’s conversation, and I am also grateful to Matthew for his willingness to converse with me.

One of the very special things about this project is the fact that I know I am having a conversation with someone who shares my commitment to honor Christ. We intend to share thoughts regarding an important and challenging topic, and will likely demonstrate that it is possible to disagree respectfully. I hope this conversation enables us (and others) to discover how Christ might be honored through thought, reason, and communication. I especially look forward to reading Matthew’s essays, reflecting on, and responding to them.

Rhetoric – A Conversation Killer

Our conversation this month was initiated by an invitation several months ago to discuss the Christian perspectives regarding the topic of immigration. Harold has provided four leading questions to guide our conversation:

(1) Are current immigration laws and deportation practices just?;

(2) If so, why?;

(3) If not, why not, and what changes should be made?; and

(4) Is there a way for Christians and Christian churches to respond to undocumented immigrants that will avoid harm to both undocumented immigrants and citizens? 

These are all important and challenging questions, and they are impossible to answer with a #hashtag or in 140 characters or less. Rhetoric, not reason, thus reigns over social media battles regarding immigration. Rather than engaging our minds, many, on all sides of the immigration wars, put passion on display, invoke their preferred catchphrase, minimize or mock their political opponents, and impute to all who disagree asserted biases justifying writing off those who might disagree as bigots. This is the rationalization process of our social media culture used to dismiss those who ask questions and then attempt to answer them with reasoned arguments. Conversation is reduced to catchphrase: the wall; Dreamers; the Travel Ban; Sanctuary Cities; and so on. As I see Christians deploy these catchphrases on their social media feeds I can sense Screwtape’s delight as he picks up his smartphone and #raisesanothertoast.

Catchphrases are powerful rhetorical devices. Which is why politicians (of all sorts) deploy them. Catchphrases stir up passions. Unfortunately, human beings often reason poorly when consumed by passions. Catchphrases may secure votes, but at the expense of finding answers to questions concerning immigration law and policy.

In the preface of their book Welcoming the Stranger: Justice, Compassion & Truth in the Immigration Debate, Matthew and his co-authors rightly observe there can be no progress in conversations regarding immigration until we move beyond rhetoric. I agree. But it is very important to note that rhetoric is deployed on all sides of this debate. Our President has reduced the debate to one word – wall. His opponents have their own – dreamers.

It is even possible for Christians to reduce biblical text to something like a catchphrase. “Welcome strangers” becomes an ethical mandate used to justify jettisoning law (or justifying demands for “comprehensive” reforms). The dangers of being deceived by (or deploying) rhetoric is the same for believers and unbelievers alike. 

As an initial matter, then, I want to make clear my understanding that the point of this conversations is to move beyond rhetoric in the immigration conversation. Progress in this conversation calls on us to engage reason, and by reasoning together about the questions we’ve been asked to discuss we just may make discoveries leading us to greater understanding. Along with Matthew, I seek to gain more knowledge in this conversation. As we share our thoughts, informed by the knowledge we have already acquired, in pursuit of greater understanding of issues pertaining to immigration law and policy the conversation may lead us to discovery. Ultimately we seek together to discover something true. Discovery thereby produces knowledge, and knowledge is a crucial part of wisdom. In the words of Proverbs, “An intelligent heart acquires knowledge, and the ear of the wise seeks knowledge.” (Prov. 18:15 ESV).

What if our conversations regarding immigration led us to wisdom? Wisdom refuses to reduce the conversation to catchphrases. Wisdom refuses to marginalize those who disagree. Wisdom refuses to minimalize, always recalling that this conversation is real, and practical, not mere theory. Wisdom refuses to be held captive to passion. Indeed, wisdom is the pathway to righteousness and a step toward our citizenship in heaven. So let us begin the pursuit of knowledge of immigration law and policy.

Asking (and Answering) the Right Questions

Questions regarding immigration law and policy are practical questions. These are questions relating to the real world and the human beings in it. Only the prudent will be able to answer such questions. In other words, examining immigration law and practice requires us to seek wisdom by first acquiring understanding of what immigration law is. What is the content of this law? Why was it created? These questions will lead us to a number of other interconnected issues pertaining to life in human community.

In his recent book Just Immigration: American Policy in a Christian Perspective, Dr. Mark Amstutz, reviews and critiques many recent Christian studies and statements regarding immigration. He argues that many Christian statements and position papers “are based on insufficient analysis of existing immigration conditions and policies. In other words, they emphasize biblical morality, but they contain little political science.” I agree. And as I hope to demonstrate below, Christians who offer book, chapter, and verse arguments in support of “comprehensive immigration reform” would do well to step back and first consider questions of jurisprudence (for example, the law of unintended consequences).  

Before accepting Harold’s invitation to participate in this conversation, I proposed narrowing our conversation’s focus to discussion of a more specific resolution.[1] Specific resolutions focus conversation and highlight potential disagreements. And resolutions also invite discovery and action. Open-ended questions, on the other hand, tend to obscure disagreements and avoid precision. In my experience, one of most significant challenges to meaningful, indeed respectful, conversation is contemporary reluctance to engage well-defined, precise questions. Instead, we ask questions laden with disputed terms, ignore the dispute, and soon end with chaos rather than knowledge.

So, then, if Matthew and I do not first identify disputed terms in our leading questions then we will not be engaged in conversation. We will just be talking at each other, not with one another. Even worse, open-ended questions tend to invite informal fallacies to join the chat. Rhetoric has room at its table for straw men and ad hominem attacks, but truth (and justice) in the immigration debate will not be found there.

Put differently, in order to move beyond mere rhetoric and answer our first leading question (whether current immigration laws and practices are just?) any reasonable person must acquire a great deal of information before he can engage in reasoned conversation.

This first question requires one seeking answers (whether Christian or non-believer) to confront a complex and interrelated set of practical issues regarding law, international relations, political legitimacy, sovereignty, and justice. It is only after considering these questions (and investing oneself in seeking the knowledge to understand the terms of the question) that one can begin to articulate answers. And at this point we are ready to begin considering whether our faith supplies unique answers to these practical questions.

Dr. Amstutz identifies some of the issues necessarily implicated in any meaningful conversation regarding immigration law and policy. “The concerns of border security,” he writes, “are only one small dimension of a very complex and multidimensional policy concern: namely, what should the policy toward foreigners who wish to come to work and live in the United States? Should the United States welcome an unlimited number of immigrants? If not, what should the annual ceiling be? And what should be the policy toward those who have entered the country unlawfully or have entered lawfully as tourists but have decided to remain in the United States?”

All of us who wish to meaningfully engage in the immigration debate (Christians included) face a challenge of fortitude: are we willing to count the cost of asking difficult questions? Are we also willing to invest ourselves in seeking to understand the issues and find answers? To do so, we must humble ourselves (on the left and the right and everywhere in between) and gain a better understanding of the of the issues related to immigration policy. This is the reason why legislative fact-finding hearings ought to be held prior to the act of legislating.  And, for Christians, the love of Christ (for His Kingdom and for our neighbors in it) compels us to step up to the plate of this difficult task of asking the right questions before proposing solutions in the name of Christ.

The Challenge of Defining our Terms

To illustrate why asking the right questions is such a difficult task, consider what is required to meaningfully answer our first leading question.

The question invites us to discuss whether “current immigration laws and deportation practices are just?”

Several things will be required to answer this question. But as explained above, we must start by clearly defining our terms. Specifically, (1) we must identify the content of “immigration laws” in order to know what law we are examining; (2) we must determine what is meant by the addition of the word “current” immigration laws; (3) we must identify and define precisely the “deportation practices” currently being used. It is not possible for us to evaluate law and practices without the facts.

So what is “immigration law”?

The factual inquiry (of identifying immigration law) cannot begin until it is first established whose “laws” and “deportation practices” are to be examined. It is my assumption that Matthew and I are discussing immigration law as it exists in the U.S. legal system. But this assumption also highlights the first ambiguity in our leading question. Many nations have immigration laws, and we could consider whether the immigration laws of Mexico, Canada, or Japan are just. Likewise, we could be examining religious laws pertaining to immigration (such as portions of Shari’a). But is my assumption that both Matthew and I are asked to evaluate the immigration laws of the United States.

Assuming that we are conversing about U.S. immigration law, the starting point for anyone seeking to understand U.S. “immigration law” is the United States Constitution.  Without the U.S. Constitution there is no U.S., and without the U.S. there is no federal immigration law to debate. This fact illustrates one of the complexities hidden within the conversation regarding immigration law. Immigration law, like other legislative action, rests upon sovereignty established by the political compact establishing the law-maker’s authority. It is my assumption that Matthew affirms the legitimacy of the legislative powers established in the U.S. Constitution, but I will look forward to reading his essay to determine if this assumption is sound.

Moving further toward comprehension of U.S. immigration law one discovers that the United States Constitution’s Supremacy Clause establishes federal law as the “supreme law of the land.” Additionally, although the Constitution does not mention immigration, Congress is granted power in Article I § 8 cl. 4 to enact legislative “to establish a uniform Rule of Naturalization.” 

Using this power, Congress first enacted federal immigration law in the Naturalization Act of 1790. Congress significantly narrowed this Act in 1795, and then amended the Act numerous times. The Civil War, and the Civil War Amendments to the Constitution (particularly the fourteenth Amendment), significantly altered the constitutional landscape undergirding U.S. immigration law. Over the next several decades, a number of amendments and acts resulted in a wide-array of varying immigration related statutes.

In 1952, Congress determined that comprehensive immigration reform was necessary. Congress pulled all the then existing immigration statutes together in The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952 (the INA). The INA was passed by the Congress over President Truman’s veto. Congress, responding to calls for comprehensive immigration reform, is presently debating whether significantly reform the INA. But as of now, the INA remains current federal immigration law.

Since 1952, Congress has amended the INA on multiple occasions, and Presidents from both parties pushed these legislative reforms. Amendments to the INA include the Immigration and Nationality Act Amendments of 1965, the Refugee Act of 1980, the Immigration Reform and Control Act of 1986, the Immigration Act of 1990, the Miscellaneous and Technical Immigration and Naturalization Amendments of 1991, and the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996. Each of these legislative amendments were democratic responses to perceived legislative concerns. They are now incorporated into what is considered federal “immigration law”.

In addition to these legislative acts, several Presidents have issued executive orders pertaining to immigration. These executive actions are considered by many to be part of “immigration law”. President Obama’s 2014 Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals executive orders, for example, created the basis for the “dreamers” program. President Trump’s threat to use his executive power to revoke these prior orders has already generated litigation.

And this leads us to another complexity in defining our terms. Are cases (and the resulting precedents) considered part of “immigration law”? Many people consider the rulings of courts to be “the law” (although, this view of judge-made law is the basis of many significant jurisprudential disputes which we discuss with our first year law students in our Foundations of Law course). For purposes of this conversation, the question is whether we should include recent cases in “immigration law”. For example, should we evaluate whether the Supreme Court’s decision to deny certiorari review of ninth circuit’s decision in the DACA case was just?

The effort to identify U.S. immigration law is not yet complete because Matthew and I are faced with the complexity of dual sovereignty in the U.S. legal system – the co-existence of State and federal law. We need to know whether “immigration law” includes the immigration laws and deportation practices of State and local governments. Should we identify and include State laws (and the law of the District of Columbia) extending State licenses to undocumented immigrants in the category of “immigration laws” mentioned in our first leading question? Should we identify and discuss city ordinances declaring that the cities located within the United States will refuse to enforce federal law and thereby become sanctuaries for those violating federal law?

The point is that meaningful conversation about whether immigration law is just requires accurate definition of the term immigration law. We need to know what we are evaluating. Definition is the starting point. But in modern conversation we (often) fail to define our terms.

Tolkien humorously illustrated this point in The Hobbit:

“Good Morning!” said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.

“What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?

Is U.S. Immigration Law Just?

After defining our terms, our first leading question invites us to evaluate. Are current immigration laws just? Are current deportation practices just? Note, again, failure to accurately identify the content of immigration law precludes meaningful evaluation of it, even if we have agreement on the meaning of justice.

And this last point leads to a very significant challenge embedded in our first leading question. Many (Christians and non-believers alike) fail to recognize (or acknowledge in conversation) that justice is itself a disputed concept. Before we begin utilizing “justice” as a standard to evaluate the content of law requires, identification of the nature of justice.   

In Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, Alasdair MacIntyre observed that our post-Enlightenment culture is filled with competing, and often inconsistent, narratives regarding the nature of justice.  When Matthew, or I, (or you) evaluate whether immigration laws are just, which account of justice should we use as the standard? Are we to employ an Aristotelian account of justice? An Augustinian account? Perhaps we ought to engage the synthesis achieved by Aquinas? Or should we be more pragmatic, or perhaps more liberal? Maybe we ought to evaluate the immigration laws and deportation practices we’ve identified in the light of Rawls’s Theory of Justice.

Failure to consider competing conceptions of justice is where many of our conversations regarding immigration (and many other issues) collapse. Assuming we are careful to identify the content of immigration law, asking whether law is just requires one to carefully articulate a conception of justice.

The nature of justice and its relationship to law is, indeed, one of the most deeply rooted and fundamental questions of legal philosophy. Christians disagree on this point. In the fourth century, Augustine famously proclaimed lex iniusta non est lex (an unjust law is no law at all). Some Christians agree with Augustine (Dr. King, for example, cited this maxim in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail). Other Christians disagree, often citing Paul’s words in Romans 13: “Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God.” When Christians are allowed (or required) to disobey law is a challenging question on its own. Wisdom answers this question with great care, or else all law is undone.

Conclusion

This first essay is intended to set the stage for a meaningful conversation. If Matthew and I are to successfully discuss immigration law we need to (1) identify the law we are discussing with particularity; (2) identify the conception of justice we are employing to evaluate the law; and (3) articulate our reasoning regarding whether the law we’ve identified is or is not just.

But, perhaps, it is not immigration law that Christians demanding comprehensive immigration reform really want to discuss. Perhaps Christians (relying on passages regarding hospitality, welcoming strangers, and the like) take issue with the entirety of immigration law. After all, by its very nature, legislation pertaining to immigration excludes. Perhaps some Christians (reading the biblical narratives regarding the global unity of the family of God) believe that there ought not be any borders (or walls). If this is the case, then we are not discussing immigration reform – we are discussing a political revolution.

In my next essay I intend to discuss why such a revolution would be unwise, and why borders, and the enforcement of our immigration laws, matter.

 

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[1] The resolution I proposed for our conversation is – Resolved: A nation’s failure to enforce its immigration laws is unjust and such failure contributes to moral harm to both immigrant and citizen. Harold advised that he prefers “more ‘open-ended’ questions” in this project, and he suggested the leading questions which Matthew and I are now discussing.