"Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels." The Persistent Stranger is the second book in a series about immigration in Scripture and tradition. It's an argument for pro-active hospitality. The force of the teaching in Scripture is usually overlooked, and it can be a shock. The book is addressed primarily to people who identify themselves as "conservative" both politically and religiously. On immigration, you have to choose: conservative politics and conservative religion do not fit together. Scripture demands, over and over, that people who seek to know and love God must welcome strangers. +++ The teaching of Moses has a persistent pair: hospitality and salvation. One simple example: Moses named his two sons Gershom and Eliezer, referring to hospitality to strangers and God's action to save his people. The lessons from the Exodus: (1) thank God because we were slaves until God freed us, and (2) welcome strangers we too once were strangers in a strange land. The Israelites were across the Red Sea out of slavery into freedom, then God fed them in the desert with manna. Moses repeats it over and over: God saved us and fed us. This pairing continues in the New Testament. When Jesus was born, he was called two names - Jesus, which refers to salvation, and Emmanuel, which refers to hospitality. Zechariah proclaimed that God has "come to his people (hospitality) and set them free (salvation)." Jesus expected the disciples to understand that his hospitality feeding 5,000 people meant that he could also walk across the water (of Galilee, or baptism) to freedom. The hospitality of Holy Thursday can't be separated from the saving act of Good Friday. How in the world did Christians ever slip into a habit of overlooking the centrality of hospitality? Hospitality is a ray of light direct from the glowing heart of the Trinity. It's not the fullness of the Gospel; it is a single ray, like chastity or martyrdom. It bursts forth from God, and shines throughout creation. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says of the Church that we are to be a light on a hill. If the structure on a hilltop has strong stone walls that keep others out, that's a castle, not a church. A light on a hill is a sign of hope, offering the possibility of escape from the shadow of darkness, the valley of tears. It is a heart-born beacon that beckons, not cold stone that rebukes the broken heart. When Jesus asks of us that we become a light on a hill, some find that to be an invitation to arrogance. It is perhaps useful to note that the call to be a light goes with a call to be salt. Salt is a symbol of hospitality. But when you find salt - without food, and without guests, just salt by itself - you have been cursed. Salt, by itself, will shrivel you, make you ugly, and kill you. It's best to shake it loose, spread it around, and share it. The light-heartedness of hospitality shines throughout creation, and throughout Scripture. Once you see it, you cannot un-see it. And once you start to notice it, you find it glowing everywhere that God has been. +++ The Persistent Stranger is a piece of a larger work in progress (in 2016). The larger work, McGivney's Guests, emerges from conversations among Knights of Columbus, a Catholic fraternal and service organization. McGivney's Guests explores the teaching and practice of hospitality in: (1) the Old Testament, (2) the New Testament, (3) the writing the Fathers of the Church, (4) three American saints who worked with immigrants, (5) the formal teaching of the Catholic Church about immigration, (6) the letter of the American and Mexican bishops, writing jointly in "Strangers No Longer," and (7) the practice and public position of the Knights of Columbus. Jesus on hospitality: "Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was ... a stranger and you welcomed me."