Some fifteen hundred years ago when men's spirits were at a low ebb and the Goths were sacking Rome, they came to the church of St. Peter's - and stopped. "These are the consecrated vessels belonging to St. Peter" they were told. "If you presume to touch them, the sacrilegious deed will remain on your conscience." I have never heard Dr. Peterson use quite that language, but, as you can see this church of St. Peter will also endure.

When we assembled here a few days ago to raise the last steel beam to the top of Citicorp tower, I said that the part of this project which gave us all the greatest pride and satisfaction was the preservation and rebirth of St. Peter's. Thousands of people have earned a share in that pride, but the biggest share by far belongs to Ralph Peterson and the St. Peter's congregation.

Eric Hoffer, the stevedore turned philosopher, put it this way. "Good and evil grow up together and are bound in an equilibrium that cannot be sundered. The most we can do is try to tilt the equilibrium toward good. " This is what the effort is all about.

This church, and its neighbor next door, are the nucleus of a new community, one that can eventually transform this small part of Manhattan. It is an effort to tilt the equilibrium toward good. It will be this church in fact which makes this a community, and not just another collection of shops and offices. And this new spirit will be infectious. It will spread to others.

This city of ours has suffered of late more than its share of troubles. But they won't last forever. And I have a feeling that when future New Yorkers look back and ask themselves, when did the bad news end in this part of Manhattan and the good news start, it will not be too much of an exaggeration to answer once again that it may be said that it was at the door to St. Peter's.