Passing the Peace Part 4

July 3, 2026

Passing the Peace Part 4

Years ago, while crossing the Atlantic with dear friends, I experienced one of the most peaceful moments of my life. We had come through a difficult season, and now we were finally on our long-awaited trip of a lifetime aboard the Queen Mary 2.

Everything felt perfect. We were surrounded by people we loved. There were fascinating lectures, elegant meals, exercise classes, music, dancing, and every imaginable luxury. Most importantly, I was far away from my office, and someone trustworthy was handling any emergencies with my patients back home.

I remember standing in our stateroom getting ready for an exercise class and thinking as I looked out our window into the blue Atlantic, I am completely at peace. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. We were already past the halfway point to Europe, sailing above the waters where the sinking of the RMS Titanic occurred. No icebergs these days. Nothing, I believed, could spoil this peace.

Then I picked up an empty champagne flute from the desk, filled it with water, and took a big gulp before heading off to exercise. 

Something stung my lips. It was harsh, as if needles were puncturing my lips. 

“That’s odd,” I thought. 

I looked into the glass and counted five straight pins lying at the bottom. Sharp points in fact had been driven into my lips as I gulped the water.

Instantly, my peace evaporated.

My mind raced: What if I swallowed some pins? What if they are now somewhere in my esophagus or stomach? I am in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean! I am beyond the point of being retrieved by a helicopter.

I could have panicked and made myself and everyone else miserable. But that would have gotten me nowhere. Since there was absolutely nothing I could do, I chose a different approach—surrender. I went on to my exercise class, counting on Divine peace and assurance.

Later, at dinner, in a spell of uneasiness, I asked Lark. “Do you recall any pins in a champagne flute?” She remembered that the night before, she had removed several decorative straight pins from a flower arrangement and placed them in the unused champagne glass.

Trying to sound calm, I asked, “Do you remember how many pins there were?”

“There were five, why?” she replied. Immediately, my peace returned. I smiled, let out a big sigh, and told her the story.

How fragile peace can be. One moment, we feel held securely by life; the next, a tiny sharp fear pierces the soul, and tranquility disappears. Often, the circumstances around us have not changed at all. Only our thoughts have.

Perhaps this is why true peace is so difficult to sustain. As long as our peace depends entirely on circumstances, explanations, or guarantees, it remains vulnerable to every straight pin life drops into our glass.

Yet there is another kind of peace — deeper, steadier, less dependent on perfect conditions. It is the peace that gets us through, even though our ego mind wants to panic. It is the peace given by God and it is not of this world.

Spiritual Practice

If you don't already have one, create a mantra to repeat when your peace is disturbed. The mantra is a verbal prayer bead. When we “touch it,” regardless of where we are, there is a soothing of the spirit.

Inquiry

What are some ways and reasons you would not panic in a situation similar to the one described in this Reflection? Why would you panic?

Prayer

Dear God, For the peace that passes understanding, I am so grateful.

Amen