Misusing the word “Illegal.”

One of the most commonly misused and harmful terms I see in conversations around immigration is the word “illegal.” It gets applied to people as a label: “illegal immigrant,” “illegal alien,” or even just “illegals.” But here's the truth—both legally and theologically—people are not illegal. Actions can be unlawful. Statuses can be undocumented. But a human being, made in the image of God, cannot be illegal.

First, let’s look at the facts. U.S. immigration law is enormously complex, inconsistent, and often inaccessible. People may fall out of legal status for many reasons: bureaucratic backlogs, visa expirations, changes in law, or fleeing violence seeking to apply for asylum.

For just one example, the backlog in immigration court is over 3 million cases (per TRAC at Syracuse University), but this is due to under-resourced courts, not because all those people are “breaking the law.” Many are waiting years for legal hearings.

These are civil, not criminal, violations. Entering the U.S. without documentation or overstaying a visa is not a felony—it’s a civil matter, not unlike a traffic violation in many cases. To reduce the fullness of someone’s story down to “illegal” not only distorts the legal reality, it dehumanizes the person.

But even more important for us as followers of Christ is this: what does Scripture call us to?

Throughout the Bible, God repeatedly calls His people to see and care for the sojourner—the foreigner, the refugee, the stranger—not with suspicion, but with compassion. Leviticus 19:33–34 says: "When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt."

That’s not a call to categorize or criminalize. That’s a call to remember. To empathize. To love.

The Bible itself was largely written by immigrants, refugees, and those living under occupied rule. Abraham left his homeland in obedience to God’s call. Joseph was trafficked into Egypt and rose to power as a foreigner. Moses fled his home as a fugitive, then returned to lead a people in exile. Ruth was a Moabite migrant who crossed borders for survival and family. Much of the Old Testament was written in exile—during or after the Babylonian captivity. And the New Testament was written under Roman occupation by people who knew the pain of being conquered, displaced, and oppressed. These aren’t footnotes—they are the core context of our faith story.

When we label someone “illegal,” we strip them of that dignity. We reduce their image-bearing identity to a legal infraction. And that’s something we are never called to do.

And it’s not just inaccurate—it’s dangerous. History has shown us over and over again that when those in power begin to apply dehumanizing terms to entire groups of people—be it immigrants, refugees, or communities of color—it paves the way for mistreatment, exclusion, violence, and even atrocity.

When a human being becomes “an illegal,” or “a problem,” or “an invasion,” it becomes easier to justify policies that separate families, detain children, deny asylum, or look away from abuse. It becomes easier to ignore the cries of the oppressed, because we’ve convinced ourselves they are somehow less deserving of compassion.

And here’s the deep hypocrisy: Many of the same people who loudly label vulnerable immigrants as “illegals” have no problem excusing or even celebrating political leaders who have been credibly accused, indicted, or convicted of serious crimes. We must ask: Why is the language of “law and order” only weaponized against the powerless, while the powerful are treated as above the law? That kind of selective moral outrage isn’t rooted in justice—it’s rooted in fear, bias, and often idolatry.

The gospel of Jesus calls us in the exact opposite direction.

Laws matter. But Scripture also teaches that not all laws are just, and justice always involves more than rigid rule enforcement. The religious leaders of Jesus’ time were also obsessed with legal definitions— while Jesus reminded them that

"mercy, not sacrifice" is the heart of God's law (Matthew 9:13).

Throwing around phrases like "illegal is illegal" without context only fuels fear and misinformation. A just society must enforce laws fairly, compassionately, and truthfully-not by dehumanizing people or distorting reality.

As a pastor, I want us to reclaim our words and reflect the heart of Christ. Let us speak truthfully and humanely. Instead of “illegal,” let’s say “undocumented.” Let’s speak of “asylum seekers,” “refugees,” “immigrants,” “neighbors,” “families.” Because that’s who they are.

And ultimately, may our language always be shaped not by fear or politics, but by the One who called blessed not the powerful, but the poor… not the insiders, but the strangers.

Let us never forget: God is always on the side of the displaced, the disowned, and the dismissed. And if our words don’t reflect that truth, then they do not reflect the heart of the gospel.

---

Thank you for reading. I also recently wrote a theological response to common myths around immigration and crime, the economy, and more, which you can read here.