Explainer
Creed
Migration
9 min read

Why we welcome strangers

As World Refugee Day approaches, Barnabas Aspray explores a powerful command to embrace and welcome ‘the other’.

Barnabas Aspray is Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at St Mary’s Seminary and University.

Between and around two escalators in a library, stand paintings of different people.
Inner Place is an art work in Kassel Library showing people who have arrived and become part of a society.
Jan-Hendrik Pelz12, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Over 100 million people in the world have fled their homes to escape persecution, conflict, violence, human rights violations, or some other threat to their life and safety. Known as forced migrants or displaced people, these people are unable to return for the same reason they left. Every year their number grows, so every year it is at a record high.  

Does Christianity have anything to say about this global crisis?  The answer to this question is a resounding ‘yes’. Although forced migration is a larger issue today than ever before, it has been a problem throughout human history, and the Christian tradition has a lot to say about it. 

Be Clear about facts and definitions 

A Christian response starts with the wisdom not to let sensationalist media dictate our understanding of the situation. We are frequently given an image of a deluge of immigrants arriving at our borders, an overwhelming quantity of people for which we do not have space or resources. But this image is not accurate. 

Some countries in the world are indeed overwhelmed with refugees, but the UK is not even close to being one of them. The UK is not even in the top 25 host countries, and refugees make up only 0.2 per cent of our population. In fact, 83 per cent of the world’s refugees are in developing areas far less equipped to respond than any wealthy Western nation.  

Learning the difference between an ‘asylum seeker’, a ‘refugee’, a ‘migrant’ etc. can also clear up a lot of confusion.  Here’s some definitions that may help. 

Citizen: someone who stays at home in their country.  

Migrant: someone who has freely chosen to live in a country not their own. 

Internally displaced person: someone who has been forced to leave their home to preserve their life or safety but has not crossed an international border. 

Forced migrant: a displaced person who has crossed an international border. 

Asylum seeker: a forced migrant who claims asylum in the nation they have entered. 

Refugee: a forced migrant who has been granted asylum by the nation they have entered. 

Refused asylum seeker: a forced migrant whose asylum claim has been rejected. 

Yes, it is complicated. There’s even a flowchart to guide you through the various definitions. 

Determining a migrant's status flowchart.

A flow chart for determining a migrant's status

The situation in the UK is rapidly evolving and that chart may become out of date in the near future. There are moves by the government to make claiming asylum illegal or to remove people to Rwanda under certain circumstances. This chart also leaves aside the question of the legality/illegality of migration, a complication that would distract from the purpose of this article.  

A command to welcome strangers 

Throughout the Bible, displaced people are seen as one of the three most disadvantaged groups in society and most deserving of special care and compassion. Again and again, it enjoins special support for ‘orphans, widows, and strangers’ as those who are least able to support themselves.  The reasons for this are obvious. If you are displaced, you have fled your home, earthly possessions, employment, and most likely your family, bringing with you only what you could carry. You have arrived in a foreign culture full of people who do not know you, have no familial or citizenship obligations to you, who may speak a different language, and who will almost certainly treat you with suspicion and distrust.  

Because of this natural disadvantage, our obligation towards strangers is embedded deep in the law of the people of God. Here’s my translation of what’s said in an early book of the Bible, Leviticus: 

‘When a displaced person [ger] moves to live among you, you shall not do them wrong. You shall treat them as the native among you, and you shall love them as yourself, because you were displaced people [gerim] in Egypt’.  

Or in a later book, Numbers: 

‘There shall be one statute for you and for the displaced person [ger] who lives among you, a statute forever throughout your generations. You and the displaced person [ger] shall be alike before the Lord. One law and one rule shall be for you and for the displaced person [ger] who lives among you.’  

More than thirty times the Old Testament repeats the command to treat displaced people just as you would treat a native. This makes it one of the most frequently repeated commands in the whole Bible.  

We are told to embrace and welcome ‘the other’, not because they are other, but on the basis of a prior sameness: we are all human beings created in God’s image. 

Why such a huge emphasis? Undoubtedly because of the natural human tendency to do the opposite, to discriminate, to ostracize foreigners. Xenophobia, racism, and ethno-centrism are constant temptations. We are told to embrace and welcome ‘the other’, not because they are other, but on the basis of a prior sameness: we are all human beings created in God’s image. We all belong to the same category, participating in the same human form. Christianity knows that we need to be trained and constantly reminded to see otherness, not as a threat, but as part of the beautiful diversity of God’s good creation in which each of us uniquely reflects part of God’s image, and where the full image is only seen in all of us at once. Humanity is in the image of God more than any individual human. 

Jesus himself fled his homeland to escape being killed. Moreover, the writer of the story underscores that this was not an accidental happenstance in Jesus’ life but a necessary fulfilment of prophecy. It was necessary that Jesus be displaced, just like it was necessary that he die and rise again in order to fulfil his mission. Jesus’ experience as a refugee identified him with all displaced people throughout history. To further emphasise the point and make sure we can’t possibly miss it, Jesus told a parable about the final judgment in which our salvation turns on whether or not we identify him with the displaced. 

“Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”  

There’s no question here about the overall attitude towards strangers that Christian faith enjoins upon its members. But commands are not the main way God communicates. This is because commands rarely get to the heart of why we behave a certain way, and they do not have the power to change the motivations of our hearts. Christian faith wants us to love and welcome strangers, not because we ought to, but because we want to, because we can see how it enriches our lives and communities. So why don’t we want to welcome the displaced? That is the more important question. 

The reality is that welcoming strangers does make us vulnerable. It may interfere with our comfortable lifestyles, and it may refashion normal British life in unexpected ways. 

I said earlier that ‘treat the displaced person like the native’ was one of the most frequent commands in the Bible. But ‘don’t be afraid’ is the most frequent command by far. It’s one we need to hear when considering the welcome of strangers. The media has made a scapegoat out of migrants in recent years, just like it used to scapegoat Jewish people and other ‘others’ at various points in history. As a result, much of the UK population is primed to treat non-natives with suspicion. We are terrified of being overwhelmed by foreigners invading our communities, terrorising our neighbourhoods, and changing culture beyond recognition. 

These fears are vastly overblown, but they do not come from nowhere. The reality is that welcoming strangers does make us vulnerable. It may interfere with our comfortable lifestyles, and it may refashion normal British life in unexpected ways. It will certainly involve some sacrifice of things we are used to and enjoy. But Jesus never promised that the path of virtue would be easy, comfortable or risk-free. What he promised is that it would be worth it, and that he would take care of all the areas that really matter (to which wealth, comfort, and nostalgia about changing culture do not belong). 

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? … But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”  

If our words or actions are based out of fear, then we are not alone. But fear cannot be the basis for our decisions.  Letting go of fear and radically following Jesus no matter what the cost will take us on a great adventure – the adventure we were created to be on.  

What does that adventure look like? In our own age, God has given us the task of enriching our lives and diversifying our culture by welcoming Jesus in the form of the stranger.  

Take practical steps forward 

What can be done by an ordinary Christian in an ordinary church in the UK? 

There is so much that can be done both at the political level with immigration law and at the local level with the refugees already among us. The best place to start is to get in touch with one of the amazing charities who already work in this area, let them educate you about the issues, and offer financial and/or volunteer support. 

  • Jesuit Refugee Service is one of the largest and longest-standing refugee charities. Backed by decades of experience and expert scholarly research, they do all kinds of work not only with refugees but with detained asylum seekers and those who have been refused asylum.  

  • In Manchester you could get in touch with the Boaz Trust who do fantastic work with all kinds of displaced people. Their founder also wrote a powerful book that is well worth a read. 

  • Refugee Education UK is always looking for volunteers to work with young people towards a hopeful future through providing greater access to education.  

  • Welcome Churches seeks to build a network of equipped and educated Christians around the nation who can rapidly welcome new refugees and asylum seekers as soon as they arrive in a new town or city.  

  • Christian Concern for One World offers a rich spread of resources to educate, inform, and network anyone who cares about working with the displaced.  

All these charities will put your time and money to good use, as well as introducing you to refugees you can serve and benefit from building a relationship with. Go!  

FAQs 

Your definition of ‘refugee’ doesn’t explain how the government decides who to grant asylum to. What is the government’s basis for giving someone refugee status?  

The UN holds its members to a definition of a refugee that was laid down by the 1951 Refugee Convention. This convention determined that a refugee is someone who, ‘owing to a well‐founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality and is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country.’ For someone to claim asylum triggers a process whereby a nation determines whether or not that person can justifiably be said to fit that definition. There are many problems with this definition and most experts on refugee studies are unhappy with it for various reasons, but it is extremely difficult to establish a consensus on a new one.  

Why did you translate the Hebrew word ger as ‘displaced person’? 

Ger is one of four Hebrew words for foreigner. Nokri means any foreigner; zar means (roughly) someone not part of your group; toshav means a passing traveller or hired worker and sometimes a slave. There is some discussion over what the term ger means, but the growing consensus is that this refers to a displaced person. It’s certainly clear from the context in which the word is used that the person under discussion is unable to provide for themselves and lacks access to basic resources, and for a foreigner displacement is the most likely reason for this. For more information, check out Mark Glanville’s book, Adopting the Stranger As Kindred in Deuteronomy (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2018). 

 

Explainer
Change
Community
Migration
Politics
9 min read

The facts and our feelings both puncture the small boats-fuelled immigration argument

From stats to sociology, how to be better informed on the issue

Roger is a Baptist minister, author and Senior Research Fellow at Spurgeon’s College in London. 

A people sumggler steers an overcrowded small boat.
A people smuggler steers a small boat, 2021.
x.com/ukhomeoffice.

Late in the evening of May 20, over 80 refugees clambered aboard the small boat that was to bring them to England. They had not gone far when French rescue services were summoned with the boat still located off the Pas de Calais. An eight-year-old boy and a 40-year-old woman were pronounced dead by the medical team and taken to Calais. Both were believed to be Turkish nationals, with their deaths presumed to have been caused by a combination of crushing and suffocation. The small boat continued its journey without them, though 10 others were also evacuated. 

This story is deeply shocking.  

What is also profoundly disturbing is that, while we may not be aware of the details of this particular case, the story is still familiar to us. According to the University of Oxford’s Migration Observatory there were 73 deaths crossing the Channel in 2024. 

It was almost 30 years ago, in the wake of the UK’s 1996 Immigration & Nationality act that I first became aware of the issues surrounding refugees and asylum seekers. Our church in Croydon was only a short walk from the Home Office’s Immigration and Nationality Directorate based at Lunar House, and it seemed to make sense to begin a drop-in centre. The Croydon Refugee Day Centre has continued its work ever since. 

From the beginning it was hard to miss the fact that asylum was a hot-button issue. The reactions it triggered were intense. I also quickly discovered that nothing was straight-forward. Weaponised politics, the labyrinthine complexity and glacial slowness of our state bureaucracy along with the internecine nature of the charitable sector made collaborating with others frustrating and problematic to say the least. 

Over the years I’ve learned two important lessons with regard to immigration and asylum. First, what grabs the headlines is not necessarily the most important issue. Indeed, it can deflect attention, action and resources from what is of primary significance. Then, second, complex issues are rarely solved by simple, straight-forward, 'silver bullet’ solutions. As the American satirist H. L. Mencken observed: 

“Every complex problem has a solution which is simple, direct, plausible—and wrong.” 

So, with the issue unlikely to go away in the foreseeable future, these are some of the things I believe we need to understand and have an eye to. 

Immigration: don’t get confused 

When the Office for National Statistics reported in May that the total of long-term immigrants to the UK in 2024 was 948,000, that really does seem like a very big number. And it is. But it includes everyone coming to the UK who is changing the normal place where they live. It includes those who’ve come to study here (30 per cent) and those who’ve got a UK-based job (33 per cent).  

The foreign students on full fees raise vital revenue for the universities and subsidise the fees for home students, and those coming to work here make a significant contribution to the economy. Not to mention the legacy of ‘soft’ influence when both return home having had positive experiences of life in the UK. 

Incidentally, and a little out of left field, the immigration figure also includes Brits returning home from living abroad. In 2024 they accounted for 60,000 individuals, or 6.3 per cent of the total. 

Asylum seekers and refugees only make up 15 per cent of the overall number (including the Homes for Ukraine scheme), with those claiming asylum from the small boats only 5 per cent. 

The small boats: don’t get distracted 

Perhaps the main reason for the small boats featuring so prominently in the immigration narrative is the compelling nature of the images the news media can use. Include criminal gangs and the jeopardy of life and death and the result is a heady mix. 

But here’s the thing, the Migration Observatory report that: 

“Between 2018 and 2024, the asylum grant rate for people who arrived by small boat was 68%.” 

Allow that to sink in for a moment: almost seven out of ten of those who arrive by small boat have a legitimate reason to seek asylum in the UK. The real villains here are the criminal gangs, not the passengers they transport. 

Things could look very different if there were safe pathways for these asylum seekers to follow. On these figures the bottom would be blown out of the business model of the criminal gangs that operate the small boats, and they would swiftly move on. Especially if accompanied with the speedy removal of those who have no right to remain in the UK. This would act as a significant disincentive to those who would have previously made an unsuccessful attempt. 

This has to be the way to tackle the presenting problem of the small boats, especially when the ‘push and pull’ influences are given proper consideration.  

‘Push’ and ‘pull’: don’t be misled 

‘Push’ issues are those that cause the migrants to leave their home. Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan have consistently been the most common sources for asylum seekers over the last 30 years. and this tells its own story. Together they underscore that the key ‘push’ factor is people seeking to escape persecution, conflict or danger. 

‘Pull’ influences are why a particular country is the preferred destination. Extensive research has established in the case of the UK the ability to speak English, the presence of family already here and the “general impression that the UK is a good place to live" are far and away the strongest influences. Disproving the popularly advocated myth that it is about the black economy or sponging off the benefits system.  

The right to work: don’t be fooled 

The total cost of the asylum system in the UK was an eye-watering £5.4b in 2023-24, a figure that is largely driven by a backlog in processing applications. On average this took 413 days in 2023-24 with the year-end backlog standing at 91,000. For the 38,000 of those awaiting a response in hotel accommodation, this comes at a cost of £41,000 per person, per year.  

Thankfully the number awaiting a decision is decreasing, but because asylum seekers are not allowed to work until they’ve been waiting for over a year, they cannot contribute to their own support. In France they are allowed to work after six months and in Italy after only 60 days. 

It is, perhaps, a sobering thought that those who have shown the initiative, resilience and tenacity to attempt a passage to a new life, not even deterred by the threat of death, might be the kind of asset to the country and its economy that we need. 

The world we live in: don’t close your eyes 

We cannot uninvent the fact that we live in a globalised world. The preponderance of international supply chains and the fact that 54 per cent of Brits travel abroad on holiday only underlines how ingrained it is in our everyday lives. We are all interconnected to a degree that we cannot possibly comprehend.According to the World Health Organisation, the origin of COVID-19 in Wuhan, China in December 2019 led to between 8-9 million deaths worldwide; the container ship Ever Given, stuck in the Suez Canal in March 2021 cost the global economy $9.6 billion per day; and the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 had a catastrophic effect on grain and fertilizer prices in sub-Saharan Africa. 

All that to one side, migration to these shores has been part and parcel of our history since before we had a history. From the Romans, Anglo-Saxons, Vikings and Normans, to more recent arrivals from the Caribbean, South Asia, Poland and Hong Kong this is an integral and ongoing part of the story of the British Isles. It is what has made us British. 

The politics of migration: don’t be seduced 

In these febrile political times, many will be quick to jump on the bandwagon of blaming the immigrants for everything that is wrong. The narrative is a seductive one that makes a visceral connection with listeners. Where the substance of argument is missing emotive language will do the heavy lifting on its own, so look out for speech like this: 

  • Crisis or emergency language: out-of-control, unprecedented, overwhelmed 
  • Metaphors of flooding or invasion: tidal, swamped, relentless 
  • Threatening or dangerous terms: illegal, criminal, extremist 
  • Dehumanising or reductive language: waves, swarms, hordes 
  • Economic or social burden framing: unsustainable, overstretched (services), job-stealing 
  • Warnings of loss: losing our culture and traditions, no-go areas 

It’s the sociologist Zygmunt Bauman, commenting on life in the city, who coined the terms ‘mixophobia’ and ‘mixophilia’ to describe some of the dynamics he observed. But I think they can extend to the whole of society, not just our cities. Indeed, with Bauman I think we can even experience both feelings within ourselves at the same. We experience the fear of ‘mixophobia’ – of being involved with strangers – in our  

“… reaction to the mind-boggling, spine-chilling and nerve-breaking variety of human types and lifestyles that [we] meet and rub elbows and shoulders [with] in the streets” 

“Mixophilia”, by contrast, is the joy of being in a different and stimulating environment. 

“The same kaleidoscope-like twinkle and glimmer of the urban scenery, … never short of novelty and surprise, [that] constitutes its difficult-to-resist charm and seductive power.” 

Born a Polish Jew in 1925, Bauman’s family fled to Russia in 1939. As Professor of Sociology at the University of Leeds t He maintained that the holocaust was not the breakdown of modern civilisation, but rather the product of it. 

Twenty years ago, he predicted that Europe would be faced with a battle between “two contending facts of the matter”. On one side would be the life-saving role played by immigrants in a fast-aging Europe. On the other, “the power-abetted and power-assisted rise in xenophobic sentiments eagerly recycled into electoral votes”. 

For Bauman “mixophobic paranoia” feeds upon itself and acts as a self-fulfilling prophecy. It may temporarily reduce the pain that those afflicted by it feel, but ultimately only makes the condition worse. Rather, “mixophobia” is the symptom of their anxiety, not the cause – acting on it is like “removing the rash while mistaking it for the cure of the illness”. 

If there is to be any hope for him, it is in the cohabitation and interaction with strangers that the future lies. 

So, there it is. As shocking and disturbing as the stories and images of the small boats are, it is not really about the small boats. Sitting beneath the phenomena is the age-old issue of migration, with the sharp and divisive edges of its present-day expression. 

In the late 1990s I was proud of the churches in Croydon rallying together to establish the Refugee Day Centre. In the years that followed it was often groups of churches who took the lead in their own towns and cities as asylum seekers were dispersed around the country. 

It was a practical way to “love our neighbour as ourselves”. In the rallying cry of the Victorian Christian social reformers, “The Fatherhood of God means the brotherhood of man.” 

As the historian Tom Holland has observed it is because Western values are deeply rooted in the Christian tradition that human dignity and the sanctity of life are deeply prized virtues that animate our best intentions and our understanding of what is good. 

In his mid-80s, Bauman wrote: 

“For more than forty years of my life in Leeds I have watched from my window as children returned home from the nearby secondary school. Children seldom walk alone; they prefer walking in groups of friends. That habit has not changed. And yet what I see from my window has changed over the years. Forty years ago, almost every group was ‘single colour’; nowadays, almost none of them are …”