Passing the Peace Part 7

July 6, 2026

Passing the Peace Part 7

How do you pass the peace? And how is peace passed to you?

Most people think of peace as something we receive. But peace is also something we transmit. Every day, whether we realize it or not, we are either passing peace into the world, we are unconscious of peace, or we are receiving it.

One certainly does not have to be a Christian to pass the peace. The peace of God belongs to no single religion, culture, or tradition. It is available to everyone. And every person has the capacity to pass that peace along to another human being.

Though passing the peace is not an official sacrament, some form of it is woven into all the Abrahamic faiths, as well as Hinduism, Buddhism, and many other spiritual traditions. Yet even those with no religious affiliation can become carriers and receivers of peace. Peace is larger than doctrine. It is a way of being.

Every time we encounter another person, we have an opportunity to pass the peace. Every time we encounter a creature of the earth, we have an opportunity to pass peace. Every time we enter the natural world, we have the chance to become a conduit through which peace flows into creation itself. And in each of these instances, we have the chance to receive peace, that is, if we are aware. 

People often know, simply from our glance, whether goodwill, kindness, and peace are coming from us. There is something transcendent in an open gaze—a hospitality of spirit—that blesses. Buddhists call this Loving Kindness. And we know when we experience others giving us that same gaze. 

Yesterday, a father and his ten-year-old son passed by me in a public place. As they walked by, the father slightly tilted his head forward to me in acknowledgment. It was almost a bow. I naturally returned the gesture. A connection was made. Then smiles were exchanged. Maybe he was offering respect for an older man. Maybe I saw myself as a young father as he walked with his son.

I will never see that man again. Yet in that brief moment, without knowing each other, we affirmed one another's humanity. And whether consciously or not, we affirmed one another's divinity as well. I felt blessed that someone had initiated a blessing toward me. It was a gift. The result was a subtle peacefulness within—a reminder of the goodness that still lives in the human family—a moment of sacred kinship and hospitality.

Yesterday, I was also privileged to sit on the porch only a few feet away from a small bird singing one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard. The bird had light brown wings and a brilliant red throat and chest. It faced me, though it could have faced any direction. It seemed to look directly at me. Then she would turn and look about.

Of course, the bird was likely calling its mate. This beautiful little creature with a big voice was proudly showing off, and I welcomed it. Yet while waiting, the bird was also sharing its song with me. How was I to express my appreciation to the bird? How could I respond? You may not believe this, but as I write these words, the very same bird has appeared right before me right now. I even snapped a photograph for you. 

Yesterday, I answered the bird by making a chirping sound of my own. It was a poor imitation of its song. Though I laughed at myself while doing it, my chirping seemed to get its attention. The bird cocked its little head and looked at me curiously. In that simple exchange we connected. And that connection brought a deep peace to my heart.

The moon also passed peace to me this week.

It shone with extraordinary brilliance over the Gulf of Mexico. Near midnight, I found myself walking to the water's edge through the luminous quartz sand. Our dogs accompanied. The beach was deserted. A gentle wind moved across the shore. Moonlight stretched across the water all the way to the horizon, transforming the sea into moving, shimmering silver. The dogs and I stopped. We looked outward. There was nothing to do but be present. The vast moon above, the glimmering silver water below, the wind's breath, and the night's silence all seemed to offer the same gifts. Blessing. Peace. Presence. Gratitude. 

After several deep breaths, I reluctantly turned back toward the cottage. Yet I carried a peace that nourished my soul. Sometimes God passes peace through other people. Sometimes through birdsong, moonlight, and waves. Sometimes through the companionship of animals. And sometimes God passes peace directly into the human heart.

It may arrive through a dream. Through a sudden insight. Through the still, small voice. Through an unexpected moment of grace when we simply stop. Or it may come as that mysterious gift Scripture calls "the peace that passes understanding.” Perhaps peace is being offered to us in every moment if we stop and look outward and inward.

The deeper question is this: Are we present enough to receive it—and to pass it on?

Spiritual Practice

Review the last few days to see if you recall being given peace from another, from a creature, or from nature. Have you received the peace from the still small voice? Describe these passings of the peace. 

Inquiry

How do you pass the peace?

Prayer

Dear God, For the miracles of your peace, I am so grateful. Make me more aware each day of all the ways you reach out to me through sacred kinship, love from your creatures, and from nature itself. And I pray to hear more closely, your still small voice.

Amen