Clearly the either/or approach does not serve us well here. In fact, permanence and change are, at least conceptually, dependent on one another. Without some sort of permanence, there is no change, but only a constantly new universe; there is no way to posit identity over time, and therefore no way to say that anything changes. To deny permanence is to make change illusory. Without some sort of change, there is nothing that can be identified as permanent; there is nothing that persists through time, because there is no time. To deny change is to make permanence a nonsense.
If we persist, with the western tradition generally, in seeing dualities as necessarily dichotomies, we have to prioritise one of the pair, making the other illusory. When we realise this just won't work, we find some way of relating the two so that both can be true. The old metaphysics of substance and accidents is an attempt at this; the Roman Mass is a reductio ad absurdum against this view. If we start from a position of fundamental opposition between the pair, we are left with either horrible tension (Descartes), weird and rather too convenient concurrence between opposites (Leibniz), or the internalisation of one of the pair such that it only exists as a human property (arguably Kant).
So we need Hegel; we need someone who will treat two as two. Hegel's dialectic, however, ends in monism, because although the two are real and really two, they are ultimately subsumed into one. Still, Hegel is a step forward. What we need to be able to say is that permanence and change describe one another; when we say permanence, we refer to change, and when we say change, we refer to permanence. This is not to identify the two, but it is to resist the temptation to dichotomise.
This is all waffle, of course, but I think it has implications for, amongst other things, the doctrine of God.