It all comes down to this idea: God loves the stranger.
But why? What's so special about the stranger?
Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, offers a beautiful parable to explain it. Imagine a king, a shepherd, and a flock. The king would take his sheep out to graze every day. One day, a gazelle joined the flock, grazing alongside the sheep and goats. Of all the animals, the king loved the gazelle the most. He told the shepherd, "Take special care of the gazelle. Make sure no one harms it. Give it food and drink."
The shepherd, understandably, was a little confused. "My lord," he asked, "you have so many sheep and goats. Why do you single out the gazelle?"
The king explained that the sheep are used to grazing. They know the routine. But the gazelle? It lives in the wilderness. It doesn't know human settlements. It chose to leave its familiar world and come to us. Therefore, we have an obligation to treat it with exceptional kindness.
Think about that for a second. It’s not just about being nice; it's about recognizing the vulnerability and the courage it takes to be different, to be an outsider.
Midrash Tehillim then connects this parable directly to God's love for the stranger. Just as the gazelle left its home to join the flock, the stranger leaves their family and their father's house to come to us. And just as the king cherished the gazelle, God cherishes the stranger. That's why we are commanded to "love the stranger" and "not wrong a stranger," as we find in Exodus 22:20.
But the story doesn't end there. The Midrash goes on to say that "The Lord watches over the sojourner, the orphan, and the widow; He sustains them." God pairs the sojourner with the orphan and the widow. Why? Because, the Midrash tells us, they are all despised and poor. Moses, too, recognized this, saying, "He executes justice for the orphan and the widow" (Deuteronomy 10:18). They are all vulnerable, all in need of protection.
And who are these orphans and widows, really? The Midrash suggests they can also represent the people of Israel themselves, exiled and vulnerable, as it says in Lamentations 5:3, "We are orphans and fatherless, our mothers are like widows." And Jerusalem, desolate after destruction, is like a widow, as we find in Isaiah 1:8: "The Daughter of Zion is left like a shelter in a vineyard, like a hut in a cucumber field, like a city under siege."
So, is God encouraging all orphans and widows, regardless of their actions? The Midrash clarifies: No, only if they are righteous. As Psalm 68:6 says, "Father of orphans..." but if it were referring to the wicked, it would say, "And the way of the wicked shall perish" (Psalm 1:6).
The text even delves into the idea of Gehinnom, the Jewish concept of Hell. The Midrash explains that God decrees upon both the righteous and the wicked, and they both ascend to Jerusalem. But when they arrive, God brings the righteous to the Garden of Eden, and leads the wicked on the way to Gehinnom. That's why Psalm 1:6 says, "And the way of the wicked shall perish."
Ultimately, the message is clear: God champions the vulnerable, the outsider, the one who needs protection. As Psalm 147:6 says, "The Lord encourages the humble and humbles the wicked to the ground." And the righteous reign with God, as it says, "The Lord shall reign forever."
So, the next time you see someone who seems like they don't belong, remember the gazelle. Remember the stranger. Remember that showing kindness and compassion is not just a good deed, but a reflection of God's own love and justice in the world. How can we be more like that king, more like the shepherd, and more like the God who watches over the vulnerable?