
"I was a stranger, and you welcomed me." - Matthew 25:35
There are moments when public policy becomes more than a matter of governance; it becomes a mirror reflecting the moral character of a nation and the spiritual convictions of those entrusted with leadership.
The recent termination of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for hundreds of thousands of Haitians is one of those moments.
More than 330,000 Haitians who have lived lawfully in the United States—many for well over a decade—now face the possibility of being returned to a nation still reeling from extraordinary hardship. Since the devastating earthquake of 2010, Haiti has endured another major earthquake, repeated hurricanes and tropical storms, political collapse following the assassination of its president, the near-total breakdown of public security, and the rise of armed gangs that now control large portions of the capital.
The United Nations estimates that approximately 1.5 million Haitians are internally displaced. More than half the nation's population faces acute food insecurity. Hospitals, schools, roads, and basic public services struggle to function under relentless violence.
The contradiction is impossible to ignore. The United States continues to advise its own citizens not to travel to Haiti because of kidnapping, gang violence, and the collapse of civil order, while simultaneously telling Haitian families that conditions have improved enough for them to return. Adding to the irony, the United States has also terminated dozens of USAID programs in Haiti and closed the USAID mission, significantly reducing long-term development assistance even as humanitarian needs remain staggering.
For Christians, this raises a profound question: What does mercy require when suffering has not ended?
Haiti Is Not Alone
As troubling as Haiti's case is, it is not unique. It is the latest in a growing pattern of terminating TPS protections for people whose homelands continue to experience war, political instability, terrorism, humanitarian collapse, or widespread violence. In recent months, TPS has also been terminated or allowed to lapse for people from Afghanistan, Cameroon, Honduras, Nepal, Nicaragua, Somalia, Venezuela, and Yemen, while Syria's protections likewise became the subject of litigation that ultimately allowed termination to proceed.
These are not places that most Americans would consider "safe."
One observation deserves careful reflection. The overwhelming majority of recent TPS terminations involve nations in Africa, the Caribbean, Latin America, and the Middle East. Whether by design or by consequence, the burden has fallen primarily upon people from the Global South, many of whom have spent years or decades building lawful, productive lives in the United States.
That reality should concern Christians whose faith teaches that every person bears the image of God.
Why Congress Created TPS
Temporary Protected Status was never intended to be an immigration loophole. Congress created TPS in 1990 for one humanitarian purpose: when war, natural disaster, epidemic, or extraordinary conditions make it unsafe for people to return home, the United States would offer temporary refuge until those conditions improved.
The question was never, "Has enough time passed?" The question was always, "Has the danger ended?"
If the danger remains, then ending protection transforms a humanitarian safeguard into little more than an administrative deadline. Mercy becomes measured not by human need but by the expiration date on a government document.
What Does Scripture Require?
The Bible speaks with remarkable consistency about the stranger.
"You shall love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt." ( Deuteronomy 10:19)
"You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger..." (Exodus 22:21)
"You shall love the stranger..." (Deuteronomy 10:19)
"The Lord watches over the stranger..." (Psalm 146:9)
"I was a stranger and you welcomed me." (Matthew 25:35)
These passages do not ask us first to determine a person's nationality, political affiliation, or immigration category. They ask whether we recognize their humanity. They remind God's people that they, too, were once strangers, dependent upon mercy rather than entitlement.
A Word to Christian Leaders
Many of those making these decisions publicly profess faith in Jesus Christ. Only God knows the heart. Yet those who claim Christ's name must also submit their public actions to Christ's teachings.
Jesus never suggested that compassion should expire when it became politically inconvenient. Nor did He teach that mercy is limited by national borders. Instead, He taught that whatever we do—or refuse to do—for "the least of these," we do unto Him.
The Church cannot simply ask whether a policy is legal. We must ask whether it is righteous. This is not an argument against secure borders. Nor is it an argument that every person should remain permanently. It is an argument that truth matters. It is an argument that mercy requires honesty.
When our own government tells Americans not to travel to a country because it is too dangerous, Christians should hesitate before declaring that the same country is safe enough to send vulnerable families back.
James writes, "If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says, 'Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,' and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?... Faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead." (James 2:15–17)
Our immigration debates are often framed in terms of legality. Scripture frames them in terms of neighborliness. The law may determine what we are permitted to do. The Gospel asks what love requires us to do.
And that is a question no nation—and no Christian—can afford to ignore.
