Preparing the Way for the Unimaginable
Preparing the Way for the Unimaginable
March 1, 2026
Guest Minister: Rev. Dr. Hanna Adams Ingram, College Chaplain and Associate Dean for Institutional Equity at Macalester College
Reading: Matthew 17:1-9
Download a printable PDF of this sermon here.
“Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became bright as light. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will set up three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ And when they raised their eyes, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’”
Dear hearts, it is so good to be with you on this Sunday morning. I just moved to the Twin Cities in mid-August after living and working for eight years in my home state of Indiana. Imagine my surprise when soon after, a business card appeared on my desk at Macalester College from Pastor JT, who was my pastor over a decade ago in Denver, Colorado, telling me he was here and encouraging me to come by sometime. And friends, I am honored to be visiting you today now.
And it is an honor to call Minnesota my now home. It was not too long after arriving here that life in the cities shifted, once again, buoyed by calls to be community in the face of rising forces of fascism and control—of violent displays of who is allowed to be here, to thrive here, and who is not. I did not have to wait long for Minneapolis and St. Paul to teach me who they were and invite me to join in.
And now here we are, a bit in a liminal space—not yet ready to exhale, but watchful for what’s next. Where we are in the cities is not unlike where we are in Lent. We are waiting, but not lazily. We are preparing the way for whatever is to come. What is to come?
Would you please join me in prayer?
Holy, loving, way-making God… we thank you for this time together today. We know you are ever-present in all moments already, but we ask you to attune our hearts to that presence now. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be pleasing to you, oh God. Amen.
We read today the story from the Book of Matthew of Jesus’s transfiguration on the mountain with a few of his nearest disciples. I must admit, even as a pastor, even as a theologian… sometimes these most mystical texts scare me the most. As a college chaplain, I am day-in and day-out working with smart, critically thinking folks. And we don’t often make room for the miracles in the confines of rigorous scholarship, do we? What could we even make of miracles?
But oh, dear hearts, our Christian faith is always calling us to perform the biggest miracle of all: hope. Hope that the world could change. That we could be part of changing the world. That violence won’t win and that evildoers won’t stay at the helm of decision making and power broking forever. And today’s text is a gift to help us shore up that miraculous hope.
You see, the Gospels are not written as journal entries in the life of Jesus. The Gospels are not written by four journalists that followed Jesus from place to place, jotting down every time he healed someone or was praised by God on a mountaintop. Instead, these four books were written 50 years after Jesus died, and these books were written in a context with purposes. And scholars tell us that the Book of Matthew was written in a time of great church and cultural strife to emphasize and re-emphasize the main point: that the kin-dom of God is here. It’s coming and it’s here, all at the same time.
So, I want you to imagine, if you will—if you even could—a societal context where there was disagreement about how to be the church. Where there were arguments over who belonged and who didn’t. I wasn’t there, but given my own context, I have to believe that there were probably some good-faith arguments… but there had to have been some real maddening fights, too. I don’t know those people, but I do know people, generally…. And I’m guessing there was hatred and bigotry in some of the arguments.
I’m guessing there were people pushing others down on their race to the top. Because that’s how people have been people all this time.
And all the while, we have a writer who is pulling together the stories of Jesus, the one that changed everything for this young church community, and the writer makes a decision. An artistic decision. An intentional, creative, prophetic decision.
He decides to remind people that Jesus preached the kingdom of God, and that God was well–pleased by this. And that like God illuminated the ministry of Moses and Elijah, God shined bright on Jesus, but this time, God declared Jesus to be God’s son, with whom God was well-pleased. God was well-pleased with this vision of a kingdom where everyone belonged, where everyone ate, where everyone found healing.
Because Matthew wrote after the life and death and resurrection of Jesus, he wrote with the full story in mind. In the chapter right before this one, we see Jesus predicting his death. In this chapter, we see Jesus telling the disciples not to tell this story until after his death. In fact, in this latter half of Matthew, we see foreshadowing of the death to come time and time again. This foreshadowing of death is aligned with our own Lenten journey. We know where this story is heading. In Lent, we do the same thing the gospels are doing—we playact like we don’t know where the story will end, so we can mine the good and true all along the journey, even while in reality, we know how the story will end. At least, we do in part. We do in glimpses. We know this story ends with a Jesus arrested and crucified for preaching that a different way is possible, different than the current world order. And that resurrection would come. Death would never win.
And when the gospel writer knows that is where the story is going, they can give us glimpses that point to that along the way.
So if we know that is where the story is going, how can we sprinkle glimpses of that along the way? How can we literally, make a way… to resurrection after death?
Matthew gave us the transfiguration story in the middle of struggle and strife to remind us that there is something transformative in our midst worth believing in, worth transforming with. God-ordained reorganization of the world order.
And today, we have other transfiguration stories.
We have prophetic singers belting out tunes of hope, inviting agents of violence to change their minds.
We have volunteer patrollers standing outside schools just to keep an eye on the kids and their families at pickup.
We have whispered messages to get groceries and clean laundry to those who aren’t going outside right now.
We have changed public opinions, folks who are realizing maybe this isn’t the best way forward.
We have neighbors knocking on doors and hosting dinner, trying to make up for 2 or 3 lost decades of isolationism that kept us from reaching out.
Friends, the stories of transfiguration are all around us… providing us hope as we make way for the unimaginable. May it be so.
