Citizens of a Better Country

Ciudadanos de una patria mejor
By Anna E. Portillo
Originally published by the Hispanic Leadership Initiative on July 2, 2024. Republished by Shechem House Publishing with editorial revisions and updated demographic information.
“¿De dónde eres?”
“Where are you from?”
Often, it is a harmless question. It can invite conversation and communicate genuine interest. But depending on the person asking and the setting in which it is asked, it may also be emotionally charged. It can awaken sadness, insecurity, fear, or hurt.
Consider this conversation:
“¿De dónde eres?”
“I’m from Houston.”
A look of confusion follows.
“No, but where are you really from? What country are you from?”
A sigh.
Perhaps it is an accent. Maybe it is skin tone or facial features. Whatever prompted the question, the implication can be painful:
It does not matter that you said you are from Houston—Houston, Texas. You do not quite fit here. You do not fully belong.
Depending on who is asking, the question may even feel unsafe:
Can I trust this person with my information—with my story?
For many immigrants, that story is filled with what they surrendered, whom they left behind, and the places to which they may be unable to return.
Sometimes no question needs to be asked. The assumption that someone does not belong is communicated in other ways.
A woman holds her purse a little tighter when you enter the elevator.
A store clerk addresses you in Spanish, even though you are a second-generation American speaking fluent English with your spouse.
A stranger compliments you on how well you speak English, although it is the language you have spoken all your life.
In a nation profoundly shaped by generations of immigrants, many immigrants—and their children and grandchildren—still struggle to feel fully accepted.
This may be especially true for the rapidly growing Latino population. To be Latino is to inherit a rich tapestry of cultures, histories, languages, foods, stories, and traditions. Yet the word may also carry assumptions about immigration status, education, income, language ability, or social standing.
In the face of this tension, where can lasting hope be found?
How should the church respond?
A Fragile Sense of Belonging
Latino influence in the United States has increased significantly over the past several decades.
In 2024, the Hispanic population of the United States reached approximately 68 million people—about 20 percent of the country’s population. Nearly eight out of ten Latinos living in the United States are American citizens, and most are citizens by birth.[1]
Nevertheless, as the United States approaches the 250th anniversary of its independence, national celebrations of liberty and belonging may serve as painful reminders for those who continue to feel that they are not fully accepted.
For many Latino families, cultural expectations, economic pressures, immigration experiences, and religious backgrounds can deepen feelings of inadequacy or disappointment as they seek to build a home in a new—or no longer very new—country.
Many Hispanics continue to identify, at least nominally, with Roman Catholicism because of its historic influence throughout Latin America. Some have also inherited theological traditions that emphasize liberation from earthly oppression and the struggle for social justice.
When people migrate seeking safety, dignity, and a better life but continue to experience low wages, insecurity, or exclusion, difficult questions emerge:
What have we done wrong?
Are we not working hard enough?
Has God failed to hear us?
Other Hispanics come from, or are drawn toward, Pentecostal and charismatic traditions. At their best, these traditions may bring vibrant worship, deep dependence upon prayer, and confidence in God’s active presence.
Yet where the prosperity gospel has taken root, suffering may be interpreted as evidence of inadequate faith.
Perhaps God brought us to los Estados Unidos so that our family would prosper.
But when the difficult realities of immigrant life arrive—when work is inconsistent, housing is unstable, or a family lives from one crisis to another—discouragement and doubt can grow.
The person may conclude:
If I had enough faith, God would bless me.
If I worked harder, my family would finally succeed.
Work becomes all-consuming. Success remains elusive. The soul becomes exhausted.
Partly because of such struggles, some second- and third-generation Hispanics have abandoned the religion of their parents. They have seen faith distorted into empty tradition, political ideology, or promises of material prosperity, and they conclude that it has little to offer them.
Those who attain professional or financial success may be tempted to distance themselves from relatives or communities that have not yet “arrived.”
Those who continue struggling may become hardened by disappointment.
The words of Ecclesiastes begin to feel painfully familiar:
“Vanity of vanities… All is vanity.”
The Hope of a Greater Belonging
It is precisely here—in the struggle to belong, in the fear that God has failed, and in the exhaustion of trying to fit in—that the truth of the gospel is desperately needed.
As the church seeks to welcome and care for Hispanic brothers and sisters, amigos y vecinos, she must proclaim that our deepest belonging cannot finally be secured by any earthly nation.
The gospel welcomes the tired, the poor, the displaced, and all who hunger for a home—not merely as citizens of an earthly kingdom, but as citizens of what Hebrews calls una patria mejor: a better country, that is, a heavenly one.
The desire for citizenship and belonging is not wrong.
When understood within the story of Scripture, it reflects something deeply embedded within the human soul.
When God created Adam and Eve, he placed them in a home prepared especially for them: the garden of Eden.
It was their place of belonging—their patria, as it were. God governed it perfectly and beautifully, while Adam and Eve served under him as his appointed representatives.
But they sought their own interests above the will of their King and Creator.
Sin fractured their relationship with God. It also displaced them from the home he had prepared. They were driven east of Eden, unable to return to the place where humanity had once experienced perfect communion and belonging.
Perfect citizenship was lost.
Perfect pertenencia was lost.
Ever since the fall, human beings have been searching for home.
We look for it in nations, cities, families, careers, political movements, communities, and social acceptance. These things may offer real gifts and temporary shelter, but none can entirely satisfy the soul’s longing to belong.
Only the kingdom of God can restore what was lost in Eden.
Seeking a Homeland
From the beginning, God’s promise was one of restoration.
God called Abraham and promised to make his descendants into a great nation. He promised to give them a land where they could dwell under his blessing.
In its earthly expression, this land was Canaan. But as the book of Hebrews explains, the land itself pointed beyond its borders to a greater and heavenly reality.
God’s people were awaiting a kingdom in which citizenship and perfect belonging would be secured by nothing less than the blood of Jesus Christ.
Hebrews 11 recounts the stories of Old Testament men and women who lived por la fe—by faith—in the promises of God.
They believed God’s promise of a better life, a better future, and a better land.
Because they trusted him, they were willing to live as “strangers and exiles on the earth.” They were not consumed with returning to the lands they had left. Instead, they acknowledged that they were seeking a homeland.
Their hope was not ultimately fulfilled through earthly stability or national prominence.
They desired “a better country, that is, a heavenly one.”
“But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.”—Hebrews 11:16
The promised land of Israel was rich in milk, honey, and blessing. But it could not completely fulfill the promise of perfect citizenship and belonging.
Israel itself was populated by sinful people in need of redemption.
Its land, kings, priesthood, sacrifices, and city pointed toward something greater: a heavenly Zion ruled by King Jesus, who intercedes for his redeemed people.
Citizenship Perfected
The biblical story affirms that the desire for citizenship and belonging is good.
Yet no amount of wealth, status, documentation, passports, or human approval can fulfill that desire completely.
A green card may bring security.
Citizenship may open doors.
Children who speak English fluently may help their parents navigate unfamiliar systems.
A dependable job and a stable home may provide real comfort.
These are genuine gifts for which we may thank God. But they cannot bear the full weight of the human heart’s longing to belong.
The gospel offers something greater.
And this promise is not reserved for one nationality, culture, language, or social class.
To all who seek una patria mejor, la celestial—a better and heavenly country—God declares that he is not ashamed to be called their God.
God is not ashamed to call the broken, displaced, rejected, or overlooked his precious and beloved citizens.
He has prepared a city for them.
Their citizenship is in heaven.
This citizenship has not been earned through education, economic success, cultural assimilation, political power, or perfect documentation. It was purchased through the blood of Jesus Christ.
He himself has redeemed his people.
He himself has given them a place to belong.
He himself makes them worthy to stand within his kingdom.
A Church of Fellow Citizens
Seeing the citizenship purchased through Christ allows immigrants and social outsiders to endure daily trials with hope.
Their lives are anchored in a citizenship deeper than earthly nationalism.
They may still grieve displacement.
They may still pursue lawful status, stable work, education, safety, and opportunities for their children.
They may rightly desire to be welcomed and treated with dignity within the nation where they live.
But their ultimate identity does not depend upon the approval of their neighbors or the recognition of a government.
They belong to Christ.
Likewise, the promise of a heavenly country transforms those who already feel at home within the surrounding culture.
Christians who possess social acceptance, economic stability, citizenship, or cultural influence are called to stand beside brothers and sisters who do not possess those advantages.
Together, they confess that they are fellow citizens of the same heavenly country.
The church should therefore become a foretaste of the city God is preparing.
It should be a community where the immigrant and the native-born worship together.
Where accents are not treated as deficiencies.
Where the wealthy and the working poor share the Lord’s Table.
Where no one must abandon his or her culture in order to be received as a brother or sister in Christ.
Where citizenship in heaven relativizes every earthly distinction without denying the real burdens people carry.
The church’s unity does not come from pretending that cultural, economic, or immigration differences do not exist.
It comes from recognizing that none of those differences possesses the authority to divide those whom Christ has reconciled.
God Is Not Ashamed to Call Us His Own
Our deepest hope does not rest in earthly citizenship or cultural acceptance.
It rests in the God who is not ashamed to be called our God.
That truth offers dignity to the person who has been treated as though he does not belong.
It offers humility to the person who has always enjoyed belonging.
It offers hope to parents who wonder whether their children will remember where they came from.
It offers freedom to children who feel trapped between the culture of their family and the culture surrounding them.
It offers a home to every Christian who has discovered that even the most welcoming earthly nation cannot completely quiet the soul’s longing for Eden.
May we learn to look by faith toward la patria mejor.
May we encourage our brothers and sisters with the truth that perfect citizenship and belonging have been purchased through the blood of Jesus Christ—blood shed for people from every tribe, language, people, and nation.
May we remember that our deepest longings cannot be satisfied by any passport, political movement, career, or human acceptance.
They are fulfilled by the God who is not ashamed to call us his citizens, his children, and his people.
¡A Dios sea la gloria!
Join Us in Prayer
Pray for Hispanic churches in the United States as they navigate difficult questions of citizenship, identity, culture, and belonging. Pray that the message of the gospel would speak more clearly and powerfully than any painful experience or human rejection.
Pray for pastors and leaders serving Hispanic and immigrant congregations. Ask God to ground their identity and courage in the assurance that he is not ashamed to be called their God.
Pray for those who feel that they do not fit in. Ask the Lord to comfort them with the truth that Jesus offers a belonging deeper and more secure than any job, social standing, legal document, or earthly status can provide.
Pray that Christians from the majority culture would treasure their heavenly citizenship above every earthly identity and would welcome, serve, and encourage believers from different cultural and national backgrounds.
Pray that local churches would increasingly reflect the heavenly city—communities where strangers become family and where those once far away are brought near through the blood of Christ.
Endnotes
[1] The United States Census Bureau estimated that the Hispanic population reached approximately 68 million people as of July 1, 2024, representing about 20 percent of the total population. Pew Research Center reported that 79 percent of U.S. Latinos were citizens in 2024, including 67 percent who were citizens by birth.
This essay first appeared as part of the ministry reflections of the Hispanic Leadership Initiative, which served Hispanic pastors and leaders from 2010 to 2026. It is preserved and republished by Shechem House Publishing so that the theological reflections, stories, and lessons of that season may continue serving Christ’s church.



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