Old Testament
Leviticus 19:33-34
33 “‘If a stranger lives as a foreigner with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong.
34 The stranger who lives as a foreigner with you shall be to you as the native-born amongst you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you lived as foreigners in the land of Egypt. I am the LORD your God.
New Testament
Matthew 25:35-40
35 for I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was a stranger and you took me in.
36 I was naked and you clothed me. I was sick and you visited me. I was in prison and you came to me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink?
38 When did we see you as a stranger and take you in, or naked and clothe you?
39 When did we see you sick or in prison and come to you?’
40 “The King will answer them, ‘Most certainly I tell you, because you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’
Leviticus turns memory into moral imagination: when a stranger sojourns with you, do not do him wrong. Love him as yourself. Why? Because you were strangers in Egypt. The command is not built on optimism about human nature; it is built on the truth that the Lord remembers what it is to be vulnerable and far from home.
Jesus draws the matter nearer still. In Matthew 25 the stranger is not merely a category; he is Christ in disguise. ξένος becomes a holy test: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” The King identifies himself with those who arrive exposed, unsure, and dependent.
So we pray about borders and welcome without turning people into talking-points. We pray for wise laws and honest administration, yes, but also for hearts that do not harden. We pray for those fleeing war and persecution, those seeking work, those separated from family, those fearful of being refused.
Lord, teach your Church hospitality that is neither naive nor cold. Make us careful in truth and generous in love. And in our common life, give us the courage to treat the stranger as we would treat our own kin: with dignity, patience, and real help.