Letter from Amy: Sept 17, 2025

The Lost Coin, Jim Hasse, SJ, date unknown

Dear Incarnation,

It’s been a tough week since my last letter. The murder of Charlie Kirk — and the reactions of people across the political spectrum to that murder — have exposed just how deep our political divisions really are, so deep that it has become very hard to remember the humanity of our political enemies.

In this moment, it seems that we are a nation of lost coins (to use the language of Sunday’s sermon). We are scattered and isolated from one another, estranged from true community, alienated from God’s kingdom. And the image of God that is imprinted on each one of us has become so obscured by the darkness and grime of our political landscape.

But the church is like a woman who searches for lost coins. The church remembers the image of God that is still stamped on every coin, no matter how far-flung, no matter how dirty. How do we, as the church, hold onto that reality in our present context?

If we feel like lost coins ourselves (and I confess I often do), then our work is simply to let ourselves be found. God is always turning on the light and sweeping the house for us. He always wants to restore us to joy. We are never too far gone for his mercy to reach us.

Saint Ambrose wrote a line that has become a refrain in my prayers lately: “We are coins. Let us have a price.” We are of infinite worth to God, and he has paid a great price to restore us to his treasury. All we have to do is let ourselves be found and celebrated. But that's much more difficult than it sounds; it takes great endurance and faith to keep waiting for an invisible God when you feel lost and alone in the dark. If that describes your current experience, Katie or I would love to pray with you.

But perhaps you feel like a found coin, securely at home in God’s care. Hallelujah! That’s my hope for all of us. So how do we who are found participate in the Spirit’s work of seeking and restoring lost coins?

• We remember whose image we bear and to which kingdom we belong. And then we live as though we really, truly, believe that. That means actively resisting the very loud, competing, and seductive voices of the kingdoms of this world. Our world is full of “principalities and powers” that thrive on our outrage and confusion, and we must resist them. The quickest way to do this is to get offline and into the living, breathing world of created things and complex human beings. (Quickest, not easiest. It’s very, very hard to disengage. Lord, help us!)

• We love our neighbors. We love our enemies. If the mercy of God is big enough to restore us, it must also be big enough to restore our enemies, and Jesus calls us to love them toward that restoration. Jesus' life demonstrates that love takes many forms: listening, asking questions, telling stories that spark people’s imagination for God, crossing social barriers, extending compassion, seeing the humanity of the crowds, healing, serving, sacrificing, dying. Most often, these are small and unseen acts that happen in the context of ordinary life with ordinary people.
  

  Sometimes Jesus’ love also looks like correcting others. But because we are not Jesus, and because we are so prone to self-deception and self-righteousness, and because we are so limited in what we can know and understand — we should be extremely cautious in wielding this particular form of love. We should be even more cautious in wielding it online, rather than in face-to-face conversations with flesh-and-blood image-bearers. If your first impulse is to correct your opponents, pause. Breathe. Pray. Give it time; commentary and correction is rarely as urgent as it seems in the moment. Go water a plant or walk a dog or wash dishes or bake brownies or take a nap. Ask God for wisdom and humility. Practice loving restraint. Trust in God's ultimate justice.

In a world of evil, hatred, and violence, the church must faithfully attend to small acts of enemy-love and neighbor-love as evidence of the kingdom of God. We have a few opportunities right now to practice this love within the Incarnation community. The first is to sign up for Will and Kate Louxes’ meal train, following the birth of their son Mason this summer. The second is to sign up to help the Sheridan family throughout Juliet’s hospitalization this fall. I know it will mean a lot to these beloved families.

How are you doing this week? Please reach out if you would like to walk, catch up, tell me a funny story from your summer, or pray together. I’m praying for you, and I’m grateful to be your pastor.

We are coins. Let us have a price.

With love,

Amy