M-Moments: Conditional Presence

But as for you, you are to keep My statutes and My judgments and shall not do any of these abominations, neither the native, nor the alien who sojourns among you… so that the land will not spew you out, should you defile it, as it has spewed out the nation which has been before you… The land, moreover, shall not be sold permanently, for the land is Mine; for you are but aliens and sojourners with Me.
—Leviticus 18:26-28, 25:23

If you have ever traveled internationally, you understand what conditional presence means. Entry into any country requires a visa. In some countries, the application process can be quite difficult. Some of the places I travel to require an invitation letter, bank statements, proof of medical insurance, and more. Others let me visit simply with my United States passport. But all of them come with conditions. They limit how long I can stay and what I can say or do. Upon entry, I agree to follow the rules. And if not… I am invited to leave with a near certainty that I will not be able to return.

This idea is not new.

When God gave Israel the “promised land,” it was a conditional gift. Presence required obedience. If Israel broke God’s statutes, they could lose the right to stay. The same rule applied to the sojourner among them. Foreigners were welcomed as travelers, workers, or those seeking protection, but while they were there, they were held to the same moral standards. Why? Because the land did not belong to Israel. It belonged to God.

We see this pattern repeated throughout Scripture… from the Garden of Eden, where disobedience led to expulsion, to the New Testament church, where unrepentant sin results in removal from fellowship. Conditional presence is not about hostility; it is about order, responsibility, and accountability.

The same logic holds in everyday life. If you invite someone into your home, they are granted presence, but it is conditional. Certain behaviors are not acceptable. The same is true at work, at school, in neighborhoods, and in churches. This does not mean we lack love or compassion. It means we recognize both the freedom to choose and the responsibility to live with consequences. Conditional presence is a social foundation, and if we remove it entirely, much of our world would collapse.

And this is where the analogy must turn on us.

Why? Because when it came to God’s conditions, we did not meet them. We were not merely guests who overstayed our welcome. We were lawbreakers who could not remain at all (Rom 3:23). Our continued presence before God is not explained by better behavior or stricter enforcement. It is explained by the Cross. Christ did not lower the standard; He met it in our place and bore the consequences of our failure (Rom 6:23). Whatever clarity we bring to questions of rules, justice, and consequence must begin here… not from moral distance, but from grace received (Eph 2:4ff).

Mark that word... grace.

That said, responsibility does not disappear. Conditional presence cuts both ways. Those who live under rules are responsible for following them. And those who create rules are responsible for ensuring they are just. God can set conditions because He is just. His statutes reflect His moral nature and His concern for both people and creation. Scripture consistently calls leaders… household, communal, and governmental… to mirror that justice in how rules are established and enforced.

But we do not live in a perfect world.

Governments often create rules that serve their own interests, and people break rules for the same reason. In many places where I live and serve, it is possible to violate a regulation without even realizing it. If authorities chose to enforce every infraction strictly, removal could come quickly. In my case, I would simply go home.

But who am I? I am just a migrant among migrants.

Many, like me, travel for education, business, or tourism. If their permission is revoked, they return home. But others do not have that option. Some have been displaced by conflict. Others were born along migration routes. Many have no clear place to return to at all.

We often think about migration as a simple linear path: origin, destination, and a few stops along the way. But that view no longer matches reality. Today, movement is complex, layered, interrupted, and passed down through generations. People pause, relocate, and adapt continually. Some never reach a final destination. And the ground beneath their feet isn’t the same for everyone.

The church’s role isn’t to eliminate these tensions, but to live faithfully within them. We are called to love and serve those who follow the rules and who live as our neighbors. We are called to care for those who violate rules and face consequences. And we are also called to advocate for those caught in the middle… victims of injustice, corruption, and systems that do not reflect the character of God.

We do all of this remembering that we, too, did not meet the conditions.

And yet, in Christ, we were not cast out.

That is where grace comes back into the picture.