Last Tuesday Afternoon
Last Tuesday afternoon, when I was going about the task of watering my houseplants, I was greeted with a surprise. Among the glossy dark leaves of one potted beauty, a subtle white bract had unfurled, flaglike, as though signaling for a truce. Never before had the greenery produced a blossom, and I was delighted by the development. I had been casually tending the plant for several years, watering it regularly, feeding it occasionally, and periodically shuffling it from window sill to window sill in an attempt to discover the spot where it could best thrive. And now, here it was, quietly doing just that, living its best life as a peace lily.
Last Tuesday afternoon, at nearly the same time I noticed the peace lily’s first-ever florescence, a development of a different kind was being revealed in a closely watched Minnesota courtroom. Eleven months after we collectively, disturbingly, tragically witnessed George Floyd’s life expire over the course of 9 minutes and 29 seconds, the person primarily responsible was held accountable by a jury of his peers.
Last Tuesday afternoon, when the verdict was pronounced, the crowd outside the courthouse cheered and smiled, displaying support for the decision. The celebration, though, was subdued. It was not the occasion for boisterous revelry, for the popping of champagne corks, for fireworks. The acclamations reflected relief more than rejoicing, encouragement more than exuberance. The moment was one of optimism tempered by solemnity, for just as surely as it time-stamped a new era of bright possibility for racial justice in our nation, that bright possibility has been born of sorrow and pain.
Last Tuesday afternoon, I thought about how extraordinary it was that the peace lily would mature just when it did, and this hopeful prophecy came to mind:
Then justice will reside in wild lands,
and righteousness will abide in farmlands.
The fruit of righteousness will be peace,
and the outcome of righteousness,
calm and security forever.
Then my people will live in a peaceful dwelling,
in secure homes, in carefree resting places.
Isaiah 32: 16-18 (CEB)
Last Tuesday afternoon, I was reminded that peace flourishes when it is rooted in justice.
Know Justice, Know Peace,
Pastor Chris
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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church
April 25, 2021– 10:00 AM
Collection Day for William Penn Elementary School (single-serving, non-perishable foods)
Parking Lot Worship
When weather permits, we’ll have outdoor speakers set up in the church parking lot. If you bring along a lawn chair, you’ll be able to sit outside your vehicle and listen to the worship service. Please wear a mask and maintain a safe distance from those who live outside of your bubble.
Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church
Virtual Activities
Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.
Everyone is welcome! Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please use the Zoom link below, or join by phone if you do not use a device with a screen.
To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to
To join by phone (no video), dial:
+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)
Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702
Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.
We offer Zoom Prayers on Sunday evenings at 6:30. We come together to share simply in intercessory prayer on behalf of our congregation, community, and world. We usually conclude by 7:00 p.m. All are welcome!
To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to
To join by phone (no video), dial:
+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)
Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369
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