Rethinking immigration

In recent weeks, the dial on the already-heated discourse about immigration in our country has been turned up to its highest setting. Fueled by viral rumors of Haitian refugees eating house cats in an Ohio town, a rising chorus of pundits and politicians have capitalized on public anger over our leaky borders to demand immediate change and even mass deportation. Others have responded by sanctimoniously denying there’s any problem to discuss and suggesting that anyone who raises questions about immigration is a racist—how dare we propose booting desperate migrants out of their adopted home?

The metaphor of adoption can help us think through the ethics and politics of immigration. Indeed, some of those most ferociously hostile to immigration have also attacked international and especially interracial adoption, alleging that just as the family is first and foremost a biological reality, so is the nation. Both parents and civil authorities alone, they say, are responsible for protecting their natural children and not sharing the benefits of their home with outsiders.

Against this, we must contend that Scripture, moral intuition, and historic custom all unite in extolling the practice of adoption. The love and care that a family cultivates within itself is not purely for its own benefit but is meant to overflow into love and care for those deprived of the blessing of a good home. For Christians especially, the practice of adoption testifies to the fact that all of us (of all races) were strangers and foreigners alienated from God and were brought in as His children by adoption in Christ. Moreover, an adoption once complete is final—there can be no disowning an adopted child any more than a biological one, and the adopted children ought to become as truly and fully part of the family as their non-adopted siblings. Just so with immigration: A thriving nation should look for opportunities to share its blessings with those whose own countries cannot care for them, offering them a new national home and integrating them fully into it as equal citizens.

That said, adoption is certainly not for everyone. It is an immense undertaking and responsibility, one that often imposes heavier burdens on parents than raising biological children would. No family should be guilt-tripped or rushed into such a commitment, no matter how great the need, especially if it would compromise their ability to effectively care for and raise the children they already have. Precisely because adoption is an act of charity, it can never be a moral obligation. And the same is true for welcoming immigrants. Nations should be encouraged to welcome immigrants—especially those fleeing war, famine, or persecution—but it is not their first responsibility.

Sometimes families who have adopted will find friction and resentment developing between their biological and adopted children, as each feels that the other is the object of favoritism. Sometimes this may be the parents’ fault, sometimes it will not, but the parents cannot afford to ignore it. Today, we find that years of imprudent immigration policies have led to a situation in which many Americans have grown angry and resentful toward their new neighbors. This anger is often vented in vile rhetoric and irrational outbursts and should not be excused—but neither can we simply expect it to go away. Our leaders will have to own their past mistakes and persuade voters that they are ready to put a pause on the immigration flow at least until the current tensions are addressed.

That said, the language of “mass deportation” muddles the issue. Who exactly is supposed to be deported? Illegal immigrants who were never invited to come here? Desperate refugees who have been granted temporary asylum until they can find some more permanent arrangement? Or foreigners who have been granted permanent residency or citizenship? Reverting to the metaphor of a household, these would correspond to a homeless guy crashing on my couch, a foster child I’ve promised to take in for some time, and a child I’ve adopted into my family. Clearly, I have different levels of moral obligation to each in the present, regardless of what someone might think of my past decisions. It is very troubling that in the current explosions of indignation, many seem ready to blur these distinctions, suggesting that only “heritage Americans” have a right to be here.

When it comes to the current immigration crisis, we must be able to affirm two things at once. First, our leaders at all levels have been lax about border controls, allowing more people into our national home than our people are ready to welcome and with no strategy on how these newcomers might assimilate. Second, however, by letting migrants in, we have incurred certain moral obligations that have not been adequately addressed. Some have been admitted to our national family and must be treated as fellow citizens while others have been granted temporary refuge, and we cannot simply toss them out without finding other arrangements for them. We must commit to discerning and honoring our current obligations without taking on new ones we cannot fulfill. That might not make for maximum attention on social media, but it is where we have to start.