Better Dads Better Kids

I want to share an analogy that’s helped me think about immigration in a way that’s both compassionate and realistic. Imagine America is inviting people from all over the world to come here and play American football. In most of the world, “football” is a completely different game. Some folks might even be thinking rugby. It’s not that they’re bad people—sometimes they’re just coming from a different rulebook, different expectations, and different instincts about how the game works.

Now, if we’re going to put new players on our team, we have to do two things at the same time. First, we welcome them with dignity. Second, we make sure the game has rules—clear rules—and that everyone understands the rules and intends to play by them. Because if half the people are tackling like rugby, and the other half are running a spread offense, and nobody respects the refs, the game doesn’t become “more free.” It becomes unsafe and out of control, and the people who get hurt first are usually the ones least able to protect themselves.

The Bible gives us both sides of this, and it doesn’t apologize for holding them together. On welcome: God is clear about how we treat the foreigner and the sojourner. Leviticus says when a foreigner resides with you, you’re not to do him wrong, and you’re to love him as yourself. That’s not politics; that’s holiness. Exodus even says we’re supposed to empathize—because God’s people know what it’s like to be the outsider. And in Matthew 25, Jesus goes even further and says, “I was a stranger and you welcomed Me.” So if our posture is cold, cruel, or mocking toward immigrants, we’re already off the rails biblically, no matter what our policy preference is.

But on order and law, the Bible is also clear. Romans 13 teaches that governing authorities exist for a reason, and that they bear responsibility to reward good and restrain wrongdoing. And 1 Peter 2 tells believers to submit to human institutions “for the Lord’s sake.” In other words: a nation isn’t unloving because it has a rulebook. A rulebook can be one way we love our neighbors—by maintaining order, safety, and fairness so people can actually live, work, worship, and raise kids in peace.

So here’s my political point to us as Christians: we should be able to say “yes” to welcome and “yes” to rules without acting like one cancels the other. It is not anti-immigrant to believe in borders, process, screening, and enforcement. And it is not “soft” to insist that people be treated humanely, that families be handled with care, and that we don’t allow fear to make us unjust. A healthy football program has both: open tryouts and a real playbook; compassion and accountability. If we invite people to play, we owe them clarity. And if they come to play, they owe the team commitment to the rules.

And this connects to fatherhood for me—something I’ve written about in Just Call Me Dad. Kids don’t come with an owner’s manual, and neither does culture. If we don’t put “the good stuff” in front of our kids, the world will gladly put the bad stuff in front of them. One of the principles I’ve learned is that leadership means building a structure where people can thrive—not just hoping things work out. Immigration policy is like that. Good intentions are not enough. You need a system that teaches the playbook, sets expectations, and applies consequences consistently—because inconsistency is where resentment grows, where lawlessness spreads, and where trust collapses.​

So my ask of us, as a church, is not to fall into slogans. Let’s be the people who can say: we will welcome the stranger, because Christ calls us to. And we will honor the rule of law, because Scripture says order matters. And we will advocate for a process that is clear, fair, and enforceable—so the game doesn’t become chaos, and so the invitation to join the team is real, not a setup for confusion and conflict.