A Migrant Mindset Can Change Your Life

Have you ever wondered about the cost of belonging? Could it be that our longing to fit in blinds us to God’s work in our lives? 

 

For many Americans, an overwrought sense of belonging in this land may be a hindrance to discerning the work of God in our midst. On the other hand, perhaps migrants—and those who embrace a migrant mindset—have a distinct advantage over those of us who feel “settled.”

 

I don’t say that lightly. Being cast as a foreigner carries its own costs, drawbacks, and dangers, especially in countries and cultures that have been hostile to immigrants. Yet, despite (because of?) this hardship the migrant experience often opens a person to see and experience the work of God in ways that the “settled” might miss.

 

Before diving into why this perspective is so transformative, it’s important to clarify: I’m not suggesting that Christians should play-act as immigrants. Pretending to be migrants inauthentically does more harm than good. Instead, Christians must realize what is already true: we belong to a different kingdom

 

As is true in all areas of Christian life, spiritual health means embracing spiritual realism—believing, living, and knowing what is already true. So when I say we need to realize the truth, what I mean is that we need to make the truth real to ourselves. That means renouncing untruths and embracing what’s real. 

 

For some of us, this mindset isn’t hard to realize. For those who have crossed borders and fought to establish themselves and their families on foreign soil, the sense of displacement and in-betweenness is basic to existence. As we’ll see, the Bible has plenty of good news for such people.

 

For others, realizing our migrant status takes difficult, intentional work. My conviction is that the effort is worth it. Here are three reasons why.

 

Reason 1: Wandering is a Place of Revelation

 

The Bible’s consistent concern for people on the move is striking. Just imagine an Old Testament without migration: Adam and Eve are set on the move in Genesis 3. Nearly all of the Pentateuch would vanish without the journeys of the patriarchs, the Exodus, or Sinai. A Bible without migrants would exclude most of the prophets and nearly all of the historical books. If you were to cut out the parts of the Bible about people on the move, you’d be left with scraps. Thank God that isn’t the story we have.

 

Instead, we see that much of God’s revelation comes to people on the move. Throughout history, God has chosen to meet with and speak to people in the midst of wandering. Wandering is often a place of divine encounter. Why is that?

 

Perhaps it’s practical—people on the move need God’s guidance. 

Perhaps there are spiritual or psychological reasons—those in transition may be more open to God’s voice. Perhaps the vulnerability of large-scale change opens us up to God.

 

Or the reverse could be true: it could also be that settled people resist revelation, or that God’s own nature as uncontainable and dynamic is reflected in his preference for the displaced.

 

Whatever the reason, the pattern is clear: God reveals himself to the displaced. Realizing our own displacement and in-betweenness can help us discern God’s leading in our lives.

 

Reason 2: Wandering Makes Cultures Strange

 

If you’ve traveled cross-culturally, you know how it destabilizes assumptions. Even basics like food, work, and family are handled differently across the world. It’s a great reminder that our way isn’t the only way.

 

That’s one reason why a migrant mindset is so helpful, it exposes the strangeness of our own cultures. It’s helpful to remember that the United States, like every nation, is a flawed attempt by humans to construct a lasting kingdom. But Christians look forward to a kingdom radically different from any earthly culture. In light of Jesus’ kingdom, all worldly kingdoms appear as fun-house-mirror-distortions.

 

And realizing the strangeness of our cultures can have transformative effects. It’s often the precursor to prophetic lament and action. 

 

But there’s another important point to make here, and that’s the dangerous flipside of the migrant mindset: when we feel settled, we’re tempted to sanctify the status quo. But the status quo isn’t what God has planned. He intends to make all things new. Recognizing the brokenness of our culture moves us to pray and work for change—to seek a better way that aligns with God’s kingdom.

 

Reason 3: Wanderers Work in Hope

 

In their book Reading the Bible Latinamente, Padilla DeBorst, Carroll R., and Echevarría highlight Scripture’s engagement with migration and displacement. One key chapter examines Jeremiah’s letter to the exiles in Babylon (Jeremiah 29:4-7).

 

The verses are familiar. God tells the exiles to build houses, plant gardens, marry, and seek the prosperity of the city where they are captive. Remarkably, they are commanded to pray for the city of Babylon—the very empire that conquered Jerusalem. God’s command to “seek the peace and prosperity” of their captors is both startling and hopeful.

 

As Dr. Carroll R. writes, “The letter exhorts the exiles to choose responsible and productive lives as witnesses to their faith and culture. They were not to see themselves solely as victims of injustice or adopt the worldview of the empire. Instead, they were to trust that God had plans for their shalom and to work for the shalom of Babylon as an exercise in hope.”

 

Only a God who loves our enemies could command work for their prosperity. Only a hope in God’s purposes—beyond the present reality—can sustain peacebuilding in a hostile world. And only a hope that God will renew all things can motivate endurance through displacement and defeat. 

 

In sum, the people of God are uniquely equipped–simply by virtue of the God we worship–to be peace-makers, hope-bringers, and workers for good in the world. 

 

Conclusion

 

The migrant mindset is not an abstract idea; it’s the actual truth of our condition. As Christians, we are strangers with a strange hope, called to spread that hope and work for peace.

 

The point is that it’s when Christians are strange, it’s precisely when we don’t fit in, that we’ll begin to make a godward difference in the world.

 

Embracing this perspective helps us discern God’s work, critique the brokenness of worldly systems, and live as people of hope. Given the time and attention we give to fitting in, it’s worth examining the ways we’ve become too comfortable to heed God’s challenging calls. The ways we’ve sanctified our culture or preferences. The ways we’ve put our trust in this world and its kingdoms and their pretensions.

 

Whether we’ve physically crossed borders or not, we can embrace the mindset of wanderers—seeking God’s kingdom, working for shalom, and trusting in his promise to make all things new.