“Who will I be surprised to see in heaven?”
That’s one question that has been stirred up during the final stretch of our church’s Bible studies in the book of Revelation. As we reflected on what we look forward to in the new heavens and new earth of Revelation 21:1-6, what was noticeable was the absence of the “other.”
While Scripture recognizes many differences between people and peoples, such as ethnicity, gender, social class, it is clear that these differences are not divisions. The true division is between those who are God’s people and those who are not God’s people. And that dividing wall has a big, open door for us to welcome more people into God’s family — an open door that does not require wide-open international borders but does call us to welcome the stranger among us. (See Leviticus 19:34)
When this present age is no more, all our differences no longer will inhibit those who know Christ from uniting as the people of God. Even though we will be from all tribes and tongues and peoples, we will be one people, chosen and clothed in the righteousness of Christ. There will be no “others,” no “outsiders,” none who are “less than” living outside the walls.
All will ride under the banner of the Lamb, feast at the same table and wear the same fine linen (Revelation 7:10; 19:8-9). And the beautiful message of Revelation — the message of the kingdom of God that Christ proclaimed — is that heaven is breaking through to earth right now. We can imperfectly access this future heavenly unity now. If we are to live as the heaven-bound, we should recognize our heavenly citizenship supersedes our earthly citizenship.
“Christ did not break down the categories between believers so we could reconstruct them.”
So, when those claiming to be one with Christ reject their oneness with the people of Christ from other countries and their shared humanity with all who are created in the image of God, we should take issue. Christ did not break down the categories between believers so we could reconstruct them. In his kingdom, our neighbor is anyone who is in need (Luke 10:25-27).
One of the beautiful and largely trail-breaking aspects of the American enterprise, reflected in our nation’s founding principles and rooted in scriptural convictions, is that all residents should be treated with dignity, regardless of their citizenship status. When we find in other image-bearers the same needs we recognize in ourselves, it becomes natural to advocate for them through the civic avenues enshrined in our constitution: Voting, free speech, peaceful protests.
Recently, a leading, self-identified Christian nationalist called immigration a “moral atrocity” in the same vein as abortion. Last month, a Tennessee Representative and outspoken Christian said that Muslims “don’t belong in American society.” Yet the vision of Heaven in Revelation is of a city open to all who have repented and turned to Christ, a city of the nations (Revelation 21:24–26). Such thinking reflected in these comments closes the doors God has left open for people from all religious backgrounds to come to a knowledge of the truth and faith in Jesus Christ as the Son of God.
How effective would our witness around the world be if we closed the doors to our homes and churches here in America? To attempt to build the kingdom of man through exclusion while trying to build the kingdom of God through inclusion is a futile venture for both kingdoms.
Frederick Douglass, responding to similar anti-immigrant nativism in 1867, said, “And here I hold that a liberal and brotherly welcome to all who are likely to come to the United States is the only wise policy which this nation can adopt. … We should welcome all men of every shade of religious opinion, as among the best means of checking the arrogance and intolerance which are the almost inevitable concomitants of general conformity. Religious liberty always flourishes best amid the clash of competition of rival religious creeds.”
The way is narrow and few find it, but who are we to keep them from it? Are we not called to reach all tribes with the good news? The vision is not that we keep them conveniently located on the other side of the globe where we can visit them with the gospel. The vision is that we live among them with the hope of the gospel, wherever they may be.
If the church of Pergamum was told to hold fast to the name of Christ and live faithfully in the city where Satan himself was enthroned (Revelation 2:13), can we, with any biblical integrity, think the call for faithful believers in America is to push out our neighbors from our cities based on their race or religion or country of origin?
“To ostracize our unbelieving neighbors is to miss the very heart of Jesus.”
No, rather than fear-based exclusion, the call for believers is “faith expressing itself through love” (Galatians 5:6). This means advocating for the welcome of refugees seeking protection, as well as encouraging politicians to create reasonable paths to legal residence for immigrants.
A recent example of this type of advocacy is the Dignity Act of 2025, a bipartisan bill that both allocates funding and legal support for increased security measures and creates paths for residency, employment and citizenship for asylum seekers and undocumented immigrants.
To ostracize our unbelieving neighbors is to miss the very heart of Jesus. As he hung upon the Cross — forsaken by the Father, bearing the weight of all our iniquity, and becoming sin that we might be saved — Jesus looked to the man hanging next to him and saw a neighbor who could become family. He didn’t stop to question if the man had been raised in the right religious traditions, where his legal residence was established or whether he deserved his death. He looked upon this last neighbor and promised to see him in paradise (Luke 23:43).
So maybe the more appropriate response from studying Revelation isn’t, “Who will I be surprised to see in heaven?” but, “Look how much God so loves the world!” Jesus knows what heaven will look like. He painted a vivid picture of it in Revelation when he described the multitudes of people ransomed by the blood of Christ, and he invites us to embody heaven on earth in our churches now as we open wide our doors, remembering we once were not a people but God has made us God’s people.
Ethan Smith serves as pastor for missional engagement at Hope Church in Winston-Salem, N.C.
Sarah Beam serves as communications and ministry systems specialist and Hope for the City Outreach team member at Hope Church in Winston-Salem, N.C.



