Abide: A Sermon About Volcanoes

A sermon based on Psalm 98, John 15:9-17, and Acts 10:44-48

Would you pray with me? 

God who is with us now and always, make your presence known among us here today. And may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable to you, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen. 

If you look in the bulletin, you’ll see that our sermon this week is titled, “Abide.” This is one of those moments that happens to preachers sometimes, where the idea they had for the sermon on Tuesday when the bulletin was due doesn’t exactly line up with where the sermon wanted to go on Wednesday... or Thursday... or Friday... or 11:30 at night on Saturday. Sometimes sermons have a mind of their own. So I promise that we will talk about abiding during this sermon, but I don’t think I want to start there. What’s been on my heart this week is change. Change and volcanoes. 

Let me explain. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about how sudden change can seem. I think it’s safe to say that the past four years, or the past eight, or sixteen, even the past twenty-four years have been a time of big changes in our world, and some of them feel like they’ve come out of nowhere. I can attest to this in my life: I’ve been surprised in bad and good ways more than a few times in the past couple of years. But the more I thought about change, the more I became convinced that no matter how sudden it may seem, change actually happens slowly, and then all at once. 

This is where volcanoes come in. 

I’ve been working at the National Air and Space Museum in DC since February, so I’ve been wearing my science hat more often than I used to, and when I think about change, I think about volcanoes. Volcanoes form anywhere where there’s a break in the Earth’s crust and magma rises up to the surface, becoming lava. 

Did you know that? That magma and lava are the same thing, we just call them by different names depending on whether it’s hot molten rock under the earth’s crust or up on top? A geologist might be able to tell you why, but I find it interesting. The magma from below the earth’s crust comes up, usually through what they call a conduit, a kind of cylindrical path up to the ground, and once it goes through that narrow path, we don’t call it magma anymore. Now, in its new place, we call it lava. 

Now, volcanoes don’t form just anywhere. You need a pocket of magma, what’s called a magma chamber, to form under the crust. Sometimes this happens when earth’s tectonic plates are moving apart, allowing the magma to flow up. That’s what’s happening in the Mid Ocean Ridge in the Atlantic-- two tectonic plates are drifting apart, and as they move, they allow magma to come up to the surface. So, many of our volcanoes on Earth are actually under the ocean. 

But it’s not just plate separation that can cause a volcano- sometimes tectonic plates collide, and instead of pushing on each other, going head to head, and creating mountain ranges like the Appalachians or Rockies or the Himalayas, sometimes one plate goes under another. This can create magma that eventually forms volcanoes like the Ring of Fire in the Pacific. 

And sometimes, magma chambers just form somewhere. We call those hotspots and we’re not exactly sure how they happen, but the volcanoes that form the Hawaiian Islands and the Yellowstone volcano are both examples of hotspot volcanoes.

The thing about all of these ways of forming a volcano, though, is that they can be slow, slow processes. For many volcanoes, they’re formed due to the slow, slow drift of the continents. 

By the way, did you know that the theory of plate tectonics was proposed in the 20th century? They had debates about whether to teach in schools because it was so new. It wasn’t really accepted until the 1960s. Amazing that something that’s so fundamental to how I understand the Earth happened so recently. It’s been less than a hundred years since we figured out how the mountains form. Isn’t that wild? 

But regardless of whether a volcano is formed by drifting plates, they still take time. Some magma just bubbles up and oozes out, making shield volcanoes- big, sloping volcanoes. Actually, the largest volcano in the solar system- Olympus Mons, on Mars, which is the size of the state of Texas and two-and-a-half times as tall as Mt. Everest, that’s a shield volcano. Sometimes the magma shoots up in an eruption, and over time, those eruptions build up that kind of composite volcano we all think of. 

Now, I may have lost some of you at this point. You may be thinking, “How much longer are we going to be talking about volcanoes?” You might be ready to erupt. 

But that’s the thing! The first thing we think of when we think about volcanoes is eruptions. We think about the spewing lava and the ash and the drama of it all. And those eruptions, those are all about the buildup of pressure within that magma chamber over time, and the magma chamber itself takes time to form. 

Change happens slowly, and then all at once. 

An eruption is dramatic, but it has to build up over time. 

Plate tectonics can change the way we understand our planet, but we had to learn a lot of stuff before we could get there. 

Magma can flow up out of the earth and transform into lava, but only after incredible slow changes make it possible. 

Change happens slowly and then all at once. 

It’s at this point in my sermon planning that I realized I hadn’t really been thinking volcanoes at all. 

And whether we think we’re prepared for it, like planters watching for signs of spring, or whether we are taken by surprise, like a late frost that dashes the best laid plans, whether we’re ready or not, we will have to deal with change. Whether we have seen the warning signs of the eruption or not, we still have to deal with the fallout. 

So how can we handle change? Well, I think our scriptures from today give us a few clues: 

1. Ground yourself. The psalm reminds us of the glory of creation and also connects creation to God. This helps to remind us of who and where we are. It helps to remind us of where we stand.
   
   Many people (besides Pastor Ethan) find comfort being outside, standing on the firm ground, looking at life all around them. It connects us to the world we live in and it’s helpful, especially for people like me who tend to live in our heads. But all of us from time to time can end up stuck in our heads or distracted. Being in creation helps to remind us who and whose we are. It helps to connect us to God.
   
   When we are connected to God, we start to show more fruits of the Spirit. We’re more able to be kind, caring, patient, and loving. These things are especially important during times of change, when things are uncertain and you’re spending more energy than usual problem-solving and making plans. Grounding yourself, reconnecting to God, can help you relieve some of the pressure inside your soul during change, and give you more energy to make it through.
   
   When you see changes coming, double down on what connects you to God, whether it’s seeing God in creation, reading scripture, talking about scripture and faith with others, praying, meditating, singing, gathering with others, or something else entirely. Ground yourself. 
   
   

2. Remember that you are beloved. Abide, my friends. (I told you we’d get there.) I love this passage from John so, so deeply, because it invites us into this perfect place of rest. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.  If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love.” And what does Jesus command? “That [we] love one another as [Jesus has] loved [us].” And what’s more, in verse 16, Jesus tells us he chose us. We are loved and we are wanted. And not wanted as a tool to be used and put away, but as friends. As beloved.
   
   Change is stressful and difficult. I don’t need to tell you that. But the antidote to stress that I have seen proven true over and over again, is to abide. Remember that you are loved and abide in it. Remember that you are loved with a love so deep and, indeed, abiding, that nothing can take it away. During times of change, I often come back to this Rainer Maria Rilke quote, from Letters to a Young Poet:
   
   “Believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”
   
   Believe in that love. Believe in a love so big that you can never step outside of it, no matter where life takes you. Rest in that love. Let that love renew your soul. Abide in that love. 
   
   

3. Open your heart and mind to insight and inspiration from unexpected places. Our story from Acts this morning comes after Peter has that vision about a blanket coming down from heaven with all sorts of animals on it. You know that one? God’s like, “Here, Peter, have all of this food.” And Peter’s like, “No! There’s pigs in there! This isn’t kosher! God, why would you do this? Kosher is, like, your rule.” And God’s like, “Peter, calm down, do not make profane what I have declared clean?”
   
   No? Not big fans?
   
   Eh, it’s a fun one.
   
   But the point is that Peter has just had this huge revelation about who can and can’t follow the Way of Jesus. He has had it beat through his thick skull (remember, there’s a reason Jesus called Peter “the Rock”) that maybe, just maybe, Gentiles can follow Jesus too. And after he’s gone out preaching, he finds that the Spirit has blessed Gentiles just the same as Jews, and who is he to withhold the waters of baptism from those who have received the Spirit?
   
   What I love about this story, and why I think it helps us with change, is that when Peter opens himself up to a new idea and new people, amazing things happen. The Jesus Movement grows by leaps and bounds. Not only are new people encountering God, but Peter himself is renewed. He finds his way, in the midst of the upheaval of the early church, and he makes new ways for others.
   
   Now, I can’t tell you what your “blanket coming down from heaven covered in animals” moment will be during this time of change. I can’t tell you what dreams God will dream with you. But what I can tell you is that the most important thing for you to do is to open your hearts to it. Be discerning, of course. Check with others. (Peter spends the entire chapter before this talking to other people about his vision and figuring out what it means.) But be ready for insights from unexpected places and see where they lead you. 

Change is hard, even if it’s a change that will be good in the long run, even if it’s a change you’ve been waiting on or longing for. But we are not alone in times of change. If we can reconnect to God, if we anchor ourselves in love, and if we can listen for God’s word in unexpected places, we can not only weather change, but prepare ourselves for the new world that change brings. 

Change happens slowly and all at once. Volcanoes build up over centuries and erupt in the blink of an eye. Or, as Ferris Bueller said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you can miss it.” (Don’t tell Pastor Ethan that I closed the sermon with that. He hates Matthew Broderick.) But if you are abiding in love, connected to God, and open to the new things God is doing every day, you don’t have to be terrified of the eruption. You can see it for what it is: another way God is making all things new. 

Abide in that blessing, my friends. Abide in love. 

Amen.