Aliens

Reading the Word

From Exodus: The LORD said, "This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the LORD; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance... You shall eat unleavened bread... because you came out of the land of Egypt in hurried flight... In the future, when your children ask you, 'What do you mean by this observance?' you shall say, 'It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, for he passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, when he struck down the Egyptians but spared our houses.' And the people bowed down and worshiped."

From Psalm 121: "I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where will my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. The LORD is your keeper... He will not let your foot be moved... The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD will keep you from all evil... The LORD shall keep your going out and your coming in."

From 1 Peter: "Beloved, I urge you as aliens and exiles to abstain from the desires of the flesh that wage war against the soul. Conduct yourselves honorably among the Gentiles, so that, though they malign you, they may see your honorable deeds and glorify God... For the Lord's sake accept the authority of every human institution... Live as free people, yet do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil. Honor everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Honor the emperor."

Reflection

The Israelites do not even have time for their bread to rise.

They are moving. The plague has passed over, the death of the firstborn has shattered Pharaoh's resolve, and the people are leaving in "hurried flight." The unleavened bread is not a diet. It is a memory baked into every meal: we were slaves, and God got us out so fast we could not wait for the dough. The festival is perpetual. The haste is eternal. Every generation must taste the urgency of liberation.

And the children will ask. This is the genius of the Passover: it is designed to make children curious. "What do you mean by this?" is not a question to shut down. It is the invitation to tell the story again. To say, "We were there. We were slaves. God heard us. God got us out." The observance exists so that the memory never becomes domesticated, never becomes heritage without cost, never becomes nostalgia without justice.

Psalm 121 speaks to people on the move. "The LORD shall keep your going out and your coming in." This is not the prayer of someone settled and comfortable. It is the prayer of a people who do not yet know where they are going, who lift their eyes to the hills and wonder if help will come. The answer is not the hills. The answer is the God who made the hills. The keeper who does not sleep. The shade by day and the moon by night. The God who keeps us moving.

And then 1 Peter, writing to people who know exactly what it means to be aliens. Not tourists. Not immigrants seeking assimilation. Aliens and exiles: people who belong to a different kingdom while living in the midst of another. Peter tells them: conduct yourselves honorably. Live as free people. But do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil. Honor everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God.

We are free, but our freedom is not a license to dominate. We honor everyone...not just the ones who agree with us, not just the citizens, not just the respectable. We love the family of believers, which means we stay in the hard work of community even when we disagree. And we fear God more than we fear any emperor, which means our ultimate loyalty is never to the nation or state that claims our allegiance.

The "emperor" in 1 Peter is not a recommendation for blind patriotism. It is a strategy for survival under empire. The early Christians were slandered as atheists and cannibals because they refused to worship Caesar. But Peter says, let your honorable deeds be the answer. Let your love be so visible that even your enemies cannot deny it. But never forget: you are aliens. Your citizenship is elsewhere. Your unleavened bread still tastes like haste.

Prayer

O God, you kept our going out from the land of slavery.

Keep us moving. Do not let us settle into comfort while others remain in chains. May our bread still taste like haste. May our children still ask what this means, and may we have the courage to tell them the whole story.

We are aliens here. Forgive us for trying to pass as citizens of empires that crush your people.

Teach us to honor everyone: the ones society discards, the ones the state excludes,
the ones the church forgets.

Keep our going out and our coming in. Shade us by day. Guard us by night. And lead us home. Amen.

For Today

What has made you too comfortable to move? What would it mean for your bread to taste like haste? And where is God calling you to live as an alien, to refuse the values of empire while honoring the people caught in its grip?

Blessing

May the LORD keep your going out
and your coming in,
from this time on
and forevermore.
May you taste the urgency
of liberation.
And may your alien heart
find its true home in God.