The Enduring Word That Won't Stay Silent
A Reformation Sermon on Psalm 46 and John 8:31-36
With Reformation Sunday falling on October 26, I felt that my sermon from that Sunday would make a great entry for this page. Below is the manuscript of this sermon as well as an audio recording of the sermon from Sunday October 26, 2025.
You can find this is and other sermons also on my podcast The Sermon in the Valley with Pastor Rob Eller.
If there’s one thing that seems to permeate the world today, it’s fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of change, fear because of the way people want to cause harm. You can feel it in almost every conversation we have and the headlines we read in the news— wars breaking out around the world, systems that we have trusted faltering, voices shouting over each other, people divided over reasons that once could be worked out or worse, differences that shouldn’t even exist.
Underneath it all is a deep uncertainty about what will last. So much of this world today seems temporary or not made to last. The things we buy are built to be replaced. Even the values we hold as a society shift from one season to the next. Maybe you’ve felt that fear personally — fear for your families, for the church, for the future. It’s easy to wonder what’s left in this world that won’t shake apart.
And because of this, we yearn for something to hold on to, something that feels stable and will last. We look for it in success, in security, in relationships, or in the hope that technology or progress will save us — but each of these eventually proves fragile. Deep down, we’re longing for a foundation that cannot be shaken, for a word that will endure even when everything else fades.
And so we turn not to any word but the Word. Verbum Domini Manet in Aeternum. The Word of the Lord endures forever. It is this enduring Word that anchors us when seas are rough, it is our fortress and our rock. It is the Word that whispers peace into the noise of our anxiety and calls us back to hope when despair threatens to pull us under.
Psalm 46 begins in a place similar to where we are right now, in a world that feels unstable. The psalmist writes of mountains that are falling into the sea, nations that are raging, and the earth trembling. Everything that once seemed solid and secure is now collapsing. Yet in the midst of it all, the psalmist proclaims, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear.”
This psalm isn’t denying the existence of our fear or even minimizing it — it’s naming it. The psalmist doesn’t pretend that the earth isn’t moving and changing. Instead, it declares that even when everything else is shaking, God remains steadfast. “God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be shaken.” That’s not a promise of escape from chaos, but of God’s steadfast presence within it.
When Martin Luther faced his own storms — a divided church, an empire against him, threats to his life and work — Psalm 46 became his anchor. It inspired the hymn we sang today at the beginning of worship: “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” Luther clung to the conviction that when everything else gives way, God’s Word still stands. For him, that was not just a theological point; it was a lifeline to hold onto. The God who speaks is the God who holds the world together.
“God speaks and the earth melts away,” says the psalm. The same voice that spoke creation into being, that calmed the storm, that called Lazarus from the tomb — that Word still speaks. The nations may rage, the kingdoms may totter, but the Word of the Lord endures forever.
In our gospel reading from John, Jesus tells his listeners, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” But those who were listening to Jesus thought they already were free. “We are descendants of Abraham,” they said, “and have never been slaves.” Oh the irony to forget about their ancestors’ time in Egypt as well as the unawareness to their current situation with Rome. But Jesus wasn’t talking about physical freedom. He was naming a deeper form of captivity — the bondage of sin, of pride, of fear.
Despite what you might think or how confident you are, those same chains still bind hearts and minds today. We probably don’t use the same words as Jesus did, but we know the feeling of being held back by something. The need to control every aspect of our lives. The pressure to appear strong even when the world weighs us down. The fear of losing what we love most. It’s useless to pretend we don’t feel any of that because we do. But into that fear and anxiety, Jesus speaks of freedom. “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” No string attached. No fine print. No limited time offer.
This freedom in Christ though doesn’t mean we are escaping the chaos of the world that surrounds us. It means we belong to a Word that endures even when the world falls apart. To “continue in His Word” is to dwell in it, to let it shape our thoughts, our habits, our hopes, our lives. When we do, we find a peace that no empire, no economy, no crisis can ever take away from us. That’s what it means to truly be free.
Both Psalm 46 and John 8 echo the same invitation to us. “Be still and know that I am God,” says the psalmist. “Continue in my word,” says Jesus. Be still. Continue. Stop grasping for control over things outside of your control and instead stay rooted in the truth that will outlast everything else. This Word has lasted for thousands of years, and will continue to last well into the future.
The truth is, the world has always been afraid. Since the dawn of time, we have been afraid of what is to come because we cannot see it. Empires rise and fall, societies continue to change, even the Church has stumbled and reformed. But the Word endures. That same voice that spoke to Moses in the burning bush, to Mary through the angel, to Luther in his prayers — is still speaking to us now.
When fear whispers in our ear, “The world is falling apart,” the Word replies, “I am your refuge and your strength.” When anxiety says, “You are not enough,” the Word declares, “If the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” When doubt continues to insist, “The Church cannot survive this,” the Word reminds us, “The gates of hell shall not prevail.”
That enduring Word — no matter how small or quiet — holds more power than the loudest fears of this world. It shelters the weary and protects the vulnerable. It is our rock, our fortress, our refuge. And it doesn’t stop with us. The same Word that steadies our hearts continues to work through us — proclaiming freedom for those weighed down by the world, justice for the oppressed, and mercy for the brokenhearted. When the noise of fear and injustice tries to drown it out, the Word keeps whispering its truth. Through our acts of compassion, courage, and faithfulness, God’s people become living echoes of that Word — bearing witness that God’s refuge is not just for us, but for all who long for peace.
To live in a world of fear is to anchor ourselves in a Word that speaks continually. When chaos and fear rises, we listen more deeply. Fear is a tool that is used to keep us down, to keep us divided. We see it being used against us even today. Fear of those who are different from us. Fear that what tomorrow brings will be worse than today. Fear is a tool used by tyrants to keep people from questioning them and rising up. Luther saw it in his time and instead of cowering in it, he stood up and used his voice.
When the world shouts, we let God’s voice cut through the noise. When the noise of fear and outrage surround us, we turn to the voice that stills the storms in our lives. As the chaos grows, we lean more fully into the enduring Word. The world shouts for our allegiance — to nations, to parties, to power — but the Word calls us back to faith, hope, and love. God’s voice doesn’t compete in volume; instead it conquers through truth. When the world demands that we shout in anger, we answer instead with the calm, unshakable Word that endures
When lies spread easily, we cling to the truth that will set us free. Deception may travel faster than compassion but the Truth of Christ does not bend to power or popularity. Christ’s Word frees us from fear, from hate, from the need to control or be controlled. It frees us to love boldly, to act justly, to speak hope into dark places. Just as Luther clung to the truth of God’s grace against the powers of his day, we too hold fast, trusting that the Word that will not stay silent is still speaking truth to power today.
We look at the world outside and think “How can we as the Church possibly do anything to make a difference?” The Church’s hope has never been about its size or strength, but in the living Word that still speaks through Scripture, through the sacraments, through the community gathered in Christ’s name. Luther was just one person but look at the impact he had on the world. Now given that, imagine what we could do. We have survived a fire, a pandemic and we are still here worshiping and doing God’s work in the world. If that’s not a testament to the resiliency of the Word, then I don’t know what is. The Reformation has never been about starting something new — it’s about hearing again what has always been true: that God’s Word will not pass away.
The world may tremble. The nations may rage. The Church may struggle. Storms may rise, systems may falter, and uncertainty may press in on every side. Yet in the midst of it all, the Word of our God remains unshakable, steadfast, and eternal. Nothing in heaven or on earth can diminish its power or silence its voice. It continues to speak truth, offer refuge, and sustain those who trust in it. In every generation, through every trial, God’s Word has endured, and it will continue to endure now and into the future.
Many things in life come and go such as the leaves on trees that appear in the Spring and fall to the ground in Autumn. The very paper the Word is printed on may fade, may rip, and may be destroyed but that Word itself continues to live on.
Remember, God’s Word still reforms hearts, still calls us back, still speaks life into a fearful world. God is our refuge. Christ is our freedom. The Word endures forever.
And all of God’s people said, Amen.