Foreigners & Exiles

Hebrews 11:13-16 (CSB)

These all died in faith, although they had not received the things that were promised. But they saw them from a distance, greeted them, and confessed that they were foreigners and temporary residents on the earth. Now those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they were thinking about where they came from, they would have had an opportunity to return. But they now desire a better place—a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

We live in a world that constantly invites us to settle in—to build our identity, our security, and our hope around what we can see and touch right now. People are biohacking their bodies with supplements to live longer. Others are trying to merge humanity with AI to make death optional. The pull to make this world our permanent home is stronger than ever.

But that's not how the patriarchs lived.

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lived as nomads in tents during their time in Canaan. They walked the land God had promised, but they never owned it. When God made the covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15, the land was still settled by other nations—the Kenites, Kenizzites, Kadmonites, Hittites, Perizzites, Rephaim, Amorites, Canaanites, Girgashites, and Jebusites. Ownership wouldn't come until after the Exodus, centuries later. The patriarchs died long before the land ever belonged to their descendants.

Yet they didn't despair. The author of Hebrews tells us they saw the promises from a distance and greeted them. They were able to glimpse what the land would produce for their descendants centuries before Israel would ever take it. They greeted the future by faith and in hope.

And here's what's striking: they confessed they were foreigners and temporary residents on the earth. When you confess that you're a foreigner, you're declaring that you're still looking for a homeland—that you haven't arrived yet. You don't keep searching for home if you've already found it. The patriarchs knew Earth was not their permanent address. It was their temporary dwelling place.

They didn't look back.

Verse 15 tells us that if they had been thinking about where they came from, they would have had an opportunity to return. Abraham's homeland was always accessible. The land was still there. They could have gone back. But they refused to look backwards.

This wasn't always the case for their descendants. When the Lord led Israel out of Egypt, the people complained to Moses again and again. At the Red Sea, they said it would have been better to serve the Egyptians than to die. In the wilderness with no food, they said it would have been better to die in Egypt where they had bread. They remembered Egypt's cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic—and despised the manna God gave them. After hearing about the giants in Canaan, they wanted to vote on a new leader who would take them back to slavery.

Their present circumstances determined what they thought was ultimate reality. They saw only what was right in front of them, and their focus on immediate comfort distracted them from how God was providing.

So I have a question for you: What is the Egypt you find yourself wanting to return to?

Is it a secret sin that provides temporary happiness but never brings lasting joy? A habit of escape? A job you know how to do, but the environment is toxic? A relationship that's predictable but never builds you up in the Lord? A mindset of pessimism—or impossible optimism—that denies the real trouble in your life?

The patriarchs teach us that faith means pressing forward, not retreating to what you already know. Paul understood this too. In Philippians 3, he said, "Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God's heavenly call in Christ Jesus."

They desired a heavenly home—and God was not ashamed of them.

The internal desire of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was not for earthly permanence but for a heavenly home. They wanted something better than what this world could offer. And that desire pleased God so much that He was willing to publicly associate Himself with them. At the burning bush, God said to Moses, "I am the God of your father Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob."

Can you imagine trusting God so completely that if He spoke to your great-grandchildren, He would be willing to say, "I am the God of your great-grandparent—and I'm not ashamed to carry that name"?

God didn't just approve of their longing. He had already been preparing an answer. Jesus told His disciples the same thing at the Last Supper: "In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I'm going to prepare a place for you? If I go away and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, so that where I am, you may be also."

The patriarchs died in faith without receiving all the promises. They saw them from a distance. They greeted them. But they never settled in—because they knew this world was not their ultimate home.

Are you living as a foreigner?

There's a difference between being comfortable with this life and being comfortable in this life. If you're comfortable with this world, you're okay with everything happening around you. If you're comfortable in this life, God's peace is on you—directing and guiding you. You see what's happening. You don't like it. You pray. You point others toward the gospel. But you don't make this world your home. You're journeying through it.

Get comfortable being uncomfortable in this world. When you start getting uncomfortable with how you've sinned, how the world works, how people mistreat each other—that's evidence the Holy Spirit is working in you. That's evidence you know your home is not here.

If you've never submitted your life to Christ, today is the day. He says, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." No biohacking, no technology, nothing else will get you there. Only Christ.

Seek Him. Find that heavenly homeland.

Takeaway: You can't try harder to be a foreigner in this world—effort does nothing for us in the kingdom of God. Our transformation comes in understanding who we truly are as sinners, who God really is as Creator, and following Him in faith. Being a foreigner is not about effort. It's about understanding where your hope is anchored. If your hope is in Christ, this world is not your final home.

Prayer:

Lord Jesus, thank You that this world is not our home. The pain, the suffering, the tears, the anxieties of this life are not our destination—they are simply the valleys and rocks on the road to eternal life with You. Help us to keep our eyes forward, forgetting what is behind, straining toward what is ahead. Remind us that what we deal with in this life is a momentary, light affliction that will not last forever. But Your homeland is eternal. Help us keep our focus there. In Your name, Amen.

Below is a song written by Andrew Peterson based on Hebrews 11:13-14.