Like a moth to a flame, I return to social media platforms to view postings about current immigration policy, enforcement and protests. Despite how disheartening it is, I cannot help but be drawn into these debates — particularly the sometimes bitter exchanges between my fellow Christians.
As someone who teaches ministers and who loves the local church, what I find most distressing is how we talk past one another, particularly when it comes to speaking about obedience to authorities. As a Christian ethicist, I suggest the very texts used to support the current administration’s tactics actually warn those authorities of God’s possible judgment against them.
I have been reading a manuscript that discusses the first Genesis creation account in which God brings order out of chaos, separating the day from night or the land from the sea in ways that allow for creatures, plants and people to flourish. But when humanity shows disregard for God’s commands, God allows those boundaries to collapse and chaos returns (such as Noah and the flood).
Scripture dubs this the “wrath” or vengeance of God, but we also could see this as a natural outcome of going against the grain of God’s intentions, what happens when we fail to uphold God’s good order as his living icons (Genesis 1:26).
We also see anarchy return when rulers fail to do justice, especially to the vulnerable. Their cities are devastated and their lands a wasteland (Jeremiah 26:9; Micah 7:13, Zephaniah 3:6). The prophets then call upon people to turn back to God’s ways, and God again recreates out of chaos new life.
“When humanity shows disregard for God’s commands, God allows those boundaries to collapse and chaos returns.”
Although many moderns shy away from God’s judgment as good news, Psalm 94 views this from those on the underside of history and sings of the defeat of those who arrogantly “kill the widow and the immigrant, and … murder the orphan, and they say, ‘The LORD does not see.'”
When Paul discusses the purpose of authorities in Romans 13, notice that only follows instruction on how Christians are to posture themselves in the chapter before.
“Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. … Do not repay evil for evil. … Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ No, if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads. … Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good.”
Such words cut across all ideological lines to remind each of us how we are to conduct ourselves as we seek justice, each according to our conscience. Our witness for God’s just peace in regard to immigration must testify to an alternative imagination beyond that of U.S. political parties to that of a kingdom to which we owe ultimate allegiance for our actions and attitudes.
As he does consistently in his letters, Paul charges us to Christlikeness and to resistance to being sucked into the disordered cycle of violence. Instead, we overcome evil with goodness, a goodness that requires self-control and self-discipline.
Consequently, when Paul then immediately speaks in Romans 13:1 about being subject to the authorities and notes that authorities bear the sword, we recall he has made clear how we Christ followers are to position ourselves and how believers are to overcome that which we dub “evil.”
We do not have time to exegete all the nuances of Romans. But note that in his case, Paul did not just cave in to Rome’s sword (see Romans 13:2-3). He did all he could to save his life, short of violence, in order to continue his ministry.
Paul nonetheless states that God grants some to have exousia (power or control, usually translated “authority”). Why? Because as social creatures made in God’s image, we participate in maintaining God’s good order for flourishing through governance and laws — including in the mixed blessing of an often-oppressive Roman Empire.
Anyone who has lived in a place in which the rule of law has completely broken down can attest to the way lawlessness foments pandemonium, with the defenseless the first to be devoured by ruthlessness and brutality run amok.
“Current immigration policies beg us to push for reform out of neighbor love.”
What I see repeatedly in print and posts from Christians who seem to affirm the methods of Immigration and Customs Enforcement runs something like this: “These people are illegal. They need to obey the law.” This is often posted in response to Christians concerned about the current methods of ICE agents, stops, deportations and the like.
First, Christians should admit that current immigration policies beg us to push for reform out of neighbor love. For decades, the United States has struggled to agree on a bipartisan, humane and comprehensive immigration policy for a long-term just peace.
But invoking Romans 13 in response to protests against ICE tactics misses Paul’s main point about authorities as well as Scripture’s overarching warning about rulers and their rule. By ignoring lawful procedures. ICE and the current administration are forfeiting the role of good government and instead fomenting chaos — a chaos that puts them and us in a place for judgment.
ICE regularly disregards immigration policies, threatens bystanders, violates rights of those they are engaging, conducts illegal stops, forcibly enters homes without a judge-issued warrant, uses unnecessary and sometimes lethal force (to name a few of the problems with their current practices according to law).
The erratic behavior of ICE and the administration’s defense of it has sown widespread anxiety, uncertainty and discord. If we care for the United States and our neighbors, Christians need to embody Romans 12 even as we call for an end to the vicious chaos caused by ICE’s current tactics.
In doing so, we need not abandon discussions of a just immigration policy as a separate, ongoing concern.
Erin Dufault-Hunter serves as associate professor of Christian ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary.


