God created borders - but he intended them for good

We were sat in a Weatherspoon’s pub in west London. After celebrating the joys of buying two pints for under £10 in our capital city, the conversation turned to more serious matters…politics.

My friend is a thoughtful, self-proclaimed socialist, and before long we were discussing border control in the UK. He passionately announced: “I just think we should let everyone in! No borders. That’s the world I want!”

After musing on his statement, I responded: “Yeah… but if we did that the UK would collapse. We’d have civil unrest on an unprecedented level. Our infrastructures would implode.”

He paused, nodded and said: “Well, obviously, you can’t actually do it. It just feels like the right thing in principle.”

That conversation stuck with me. I realised he was describing the Christian tension: We live for the world that’s coming, but we endure the world that’s here.

For much of my Christian life, I quietly assumed borders were a kind of spiritual mistake. If God’s kingdom is a place where every tribe and tongue stands together before the throne, where hostility is dismantled and unity restored, surely the Christian direction of travel is toward a borderless world?

To me, borders have looked like lines that create an ‘us’ and ‘them’. But I fear that conclusion is over simplified and naïve.

I can’t remember a time when borders were debated as fiercely as they are now. Nothing seems to ignite quite the same visceral reaction. And in those conversations, I often feel pressure to choose a side.

Either borders are sacred and we must defend them at all costs, or they are oppressive and must be torn down. No nuance. No tension. No space for Christian thought and debate.

Yet as I’ve wrestled with scripture, the Bible doesn’t allow me to settle into either extreme.

God’s design

In Acts 17:26 Paul tells the Athenians that God “made all nations,” and even “marked out their appointed times and the boundaries of their lands.” Borders are not accidental. God uses them in history, not to divide for the sake of division, but so that people would seek Him.

The conflict in Gaza forced me to reflect on how so much suffering and destruction can be bound up with borders rooted in God’s promises. Growing up in the Church, I’ve often dismissed Israel’s borders as an Old Testament concern. I’ve claimed New Testament revelation as my excuse for taking an apathetic posture. It’s a lazy response to a hugely complex reality.

Israel’s borders have always been a lightning rod for global debate. I have found myself asking: Were Israel’s borders merely for a season, or does God continue to use nations and borders this side of the resurrection?

Christians should not be embarrassed to hope for a Christ-shaped nation, especially in how we treat immigrants, asylum seekers and refugees

Scripture answers this clearly. When Jesus commissions His disciples, He doesn’t say: “Go and dissolve national identity.” He says: “Go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). The gospel does not erase nations; it crosses borders and then transforms them. In Revelation7:9, “a great multitude…from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” worshipped the Lamb. Nations remain; hostility does not. 

One of the most striking moments in the Gospels occurs when Jesus and His disciples are leaving the temple. The disciples are in awe of its architecture, the permanence of it. And then Jesus says: “Not one stone here will be left on another” (Luke 21:6).

Even the temple - the centre of worship, culture and national identity - was temporary. Jesus teaches His followers not to anchor their hope to structures that will inevitably fall. Jesus describes a world of instability: “wars and uprisings…Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom” (v9-10). His command? “do not be frightened.”

Jesus says His followers will be persecuted and then says: “Not a hair of your head will perish” (v18). Earthly suffering is real; eternal loss is impossible.

As followers of Christ we live fully in the temporary but belong to the eternal. Borders shift, nations rise and fall, but our citizenship in heaven remains constant. This is why Christians should care deeply for our nation and national identity but not place our eternal hope in it.

Until utopia

If the biblical vision for eternity is unity without hostility, it is tempting to assume the political goal now is the removal of borders. But scripture is realistic about human nature. Without boundaries, the strong exploit the weak. Historical attempts to eliminate borders typically result in domination.

The Roman Empire attempted to flatten nations into a single identity. Its unity held only as long as Caesar enforced it. The Soviet Union tried to eliminate national identity; it required suppression of whole people groups until the system collapsed. Yugoslavia blurred internal boundaries; when central pressure lifted, violence erupted.

Even peaceful attempts show the tension. Brexit revealed that national identity remains powerful and important. A borderless world requires a healed humanity, something only the New Creation will deliver. Until then, borders restrain evil, distribute authority, protect the vulnerable and give shape to life.

For much of my Christian life, I quietly assumed borders were a kind of spiritual mistake

They also make possible certain kinds of good. Borders can give shape to communities pursuing Christlikeness: shared laws, customs, stories and responsibilities. Nations shaped by Christ become sources of blessing: hospitals, universities, abolition movements, welfare systems.

The UK is profoundly shaped by Jesus’ teaching, moving away from this foundation risks losing the fruit it has produced. Christians should not be embarrassed to hope for a Christ-shaped nation, especially in how we treat immigrants, asylum seekers and refugees. Christian borders are not cruel; they are compassionate, just, orderly and humane.

Jesus was not neutral about public life. He confronted corrupt power, defended the oppressed, and offered a vision of public holiness beyond private belief. God created our boarders, and it is our duty to protect them. But protect them for what purpose? To hoard wealth? Celebrate national victories?

I don’t believe a Christian desire to protect borders begins by pushing people out. I believe it begins by inviting someone in. When we invite the Holy Spirit to inhabit our lives, we are empowered to become an outpouring of Christ’s purpose for the nation. We become salt and light, not anxious gatekeepers fearful of the next dingy to wash up on our shores.

We cannot create or preserve a Christian culture by turning away the vulnerable, rejecting the needy or persecuting those who are different. A Christian culture is not protected by fear or exclusion but sustained by faithfulness and grace.

It endures only as we learn to live by Jesus’ greatest commandment: to love God, and to love one another.