Sermon of the Week: Be still

(In this 72nd installment of the United Press International series of sermons, the Rev. Gregory P. Fryer, pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church in New York, reflects on the first anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks on his city and Washington).

This sermon is based on Psalm 46 and Matthew 18:15-20: "...though the earth be removed... be still, and know that I am God (from Psalm 46)."

Ages ago, long before terror flew forth from human hand, there was a great mountain rising up from the African plain. Scientists say that it probably rivaled Mount Kilimanjaro.

Like Mount Kilimanjaro, it was a majestic volcanic mountain. Some volcanic mountains harden inside and become stable parts of the landscape; some continue active, periodically erupting and spewing forth ash and lava; some erupt explosively, flinging much of their substance out over the countryside.

But this particular mountain -- Mount Ngorongoro -- collapsed back into the earth! If I am interpreting the geology reports right, the molten inner substance retreated as it cooled, and the immense lava lid at the top of the volcano crushed downward, down, down until it settled down within the volcano, rimmed about with the wrecks of the old mountain.

On a clear day, it is possible to see the whole remaining rim of the mountain, like, I imagine, the ragged glass edges of a broken-off Coke bottle, except on a huge scale, with the rim encompassing maybe a hundred square miles.

The old lava lid, with its layers of ash, now nourishes the sweeping African grasslands inside the Ngorongoro Crater, and the mighty African animals that are able to cross the old mountain rim -- elephants, black rhinoceroses, leopards, buffalo, zebras, warthogs, wildebeests, and gazelles -- dwell amidst the wrecks of time.

What commotion our old earth has known! What fire and collapse and chaos! What fury and change and unstableness!

It could tug at a New Yorker's heart to imagine even so natural an event as the ancient collapse of Mount Ngorongoro, to think of the inner substance crushing downward, with no human power capable of stopping it once it starts, leaving only shells of greatness surrounding the collapse.

One day the mountain is solid and majestic, sweeping up into the sky. Then comes a day when its innards are gone, except for the surrounding debris.

This world is changeable and subject to decay. But not for you! Not really. Not in the end. For you belong to the Church, and not even the gates of hell shall prevail against the Church.

Jesus Christ dwells here, wherever "two or three are gathered together" in his name, as today's Gospel lesson teaches, and he give us reason for hope and good cheer, "though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea..."

This is the week of Sept. 11. We grieve and could well tremble at the memory of what befell those poor people in the World Trade towers. From out of the blue sky, our city was suddenly thrashed by a tidal wave of violence, disorder, tumult, rage, terror and injustice.

Hearts were broken, peace disturbed, hopes toppled, and the future dimmed for many innocent people. Psalm 46's images of the earth moving, mountains sliding, waters roaring and swelling, and rage lashing the land seem to have come alive for us that sad day, the day the towers fell.

Meanwhile, the assaults continue on our city, our land, indeed on each human soul. Cold waves of sickness, accident, crime, financial decline, fickle friends, untrue loved ones, and chaos in the moral judgments of the community break upon us.

We have our portions of joy -- praise be to God for them -- but also we are born into a world that is full of commotion and threat.

And behind it all lurks sin, death, and the devil staring at us with such cruel visage and seemingly taunting us, "You do not count. You are not worth much. We have swallowed tens of billions of your race in the past and we will you too. You are sinful and so you belong to us -- to your destroyers."

But let us take heart and be brave. Against all this chaos, the word of God stands strong and true: "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

"Some boast of chariots, and some of horses; but we boast of the name of the Lord our God." (Psalm 20:7) You are baptized, or welcome to become baptized. You belong to Christ and he to you, therefore you will not fall in this world.

We are in a strong fortress when we are in church and when we walk with Christ in the world. With Christ in our midst, what need we fear?

This is a mountain that cannot fall back into the earth, a tall building that cannot collapse, a nation that shall not leave the pages of history, a royal people destined for the company of angels and archangels, seraphim and cherubim, and him who is Lord of all.

Not because of our strength or wits, but because of him who is in the midst of us, we shall stand, and therefore we are among those who should be brave in this world.

"We will not fear, though the earth should be moved ..." We are the ones who are authorized by our faith to have a spirit of calmness and serenity about us. Such peace could well be our particular gift to the city.

Come what may, neither heights nor depths nor anything else in all creation shall separate us from Jesus. Maybe walking in this faith will help fetch our neighbors into the Church. Let's pray so, for where two or three are gathered in his name, there is Christ among them, to save them in a world that needs a lot of saving.

To this Christ be the glory, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and forever.