As it stands, the new law requires authorities to confirm the status of anyone they stop if there is reasonable doubt that the person could be in the U.S. illegally. The law also makes it a crime of undocumented immigrants to work, rent an apartment, or attain a driver’s license. Furthermore, one provision makes it a felony - punishable by up to 10 years in prison - to aid or transport undocumented immigrants.

Because of this, Willimon, along with several other religious leaders, has filed suit against the state claiming that the law inhibits the free exercise of religion.

The new law has, if nothing else, created a firestorm of conversations at both the local and national level. Having taken part in a few conversations myself, I can attest that some of the rhetoric has reflected the complexity of the immigration issue. That being said, most of the language, unfortunately, has been a bit simplistic. If I have learned anything over the years, its that simple answers are not usually good ones. 

Honestly, I have become frustrated with the tired line, “What part of ‘illegal’ don’t you understand?” This popular line reflects the hard-line perspective of the legislation.

My initial inclination is to respond with, “What part of the ‘Gospel’ don’t you understand?” This being a reflection of the Gospel’s clear admonition to offer hospitality to the stranger.

However, this response opens up a whole new set of questions.

Is immigration a legal issue or a faith issue? If both, then which should have priority among people of faith?

Reducing immigration to a matter of mere legality (as in the prevalence of referring to undocumented workers as “illegals”) grossly oversimplifies the economic, social, and theological dimensions of the issue.

Immigration is much more than a legal problem that can be fixed by the passing of new legislation. It is, in fact, a human problem that must be responded to, I believe, with new hearts. The core problem is not with “them,” but with “us.”

How quick are we to forget the human tendency to absolutize a law when its enforcement serves our purpose, yet conveniently ignore that authority if the benefits of “illegality” benefit our lifestyle and desires. 

When undocumented workers build the houses, harvest the crops, and perform the services we desire at low wages, we have welcomed their work, if not them, with no concern for their undocumented status. But when the bubble bursts and the flawed system begins to rear its head we are quick to place the blame on the most vulnerable group, all the while ignoring the real nature of the problem. When we do this, “illegals” become a predictable target.

When we were benefitting from the lack of enforcement, the law did not matter. It only becomes important when its needed as a tool to protect privilege and power. These superficial solutions to deep-seated human problems are nothing new.

However, those of us who belong to the Christian tradition possess a calling to be witnesses to an alternative vision of the human family that moves beyond “us” and them,” - Jew or Greek, male or female, bond and free, and so on. For us, all humanity should be seen as siblings made in the image of God. We also possess the ability to make a unique theological contribution to the issue at hand.

I wonder if our current challenge with the immigration issue and the passing of severe, subsequent legislation will lead to a “signature emphasis” for theological reflection. Much like the rise of the social gospel, political theology, black theology, liberation theology, and feminist theology which were all responses to particular social concerns, Colin Harris, a professor of religious studies at Mercer University, has suggested that a “theology of hospitality” might arise as our faith’s correction to the unbalanced dimensions of life.

It is a pleasant thought and a realistic hope that when the history of this period is written it will be able to say that Christians embraced a vision that led to a more inclusive, wholesome community among God’s people.

The alternative, of course, is for the operative theology of our time to be one that defends and enforces the system and policies that perpetuate the fragmentation of human community.

The theologian in each of us (and I believe there is one in each of us) has a choice: to think, speak, and act in ways that affirm the gospel’s call to hospitality. As christians we must be the builders of bridges, not barriers.