A young priest wrote about the students he works at a university and noticed they have a zest for life and an energy and color that he could only envy. He writes: “But inside of all this zest and energy, I notice that they lack hope because they don’t have a meta-narrative. They don’t have a big story or vision that can give them perspective beyond the ups and downs of their everyday lives. When their health, relationships, and lives are going well, they feel happy and full of hope, but the reverse is also true. The bottom falls out of their world when things aren’t going well. They don’t have anything to give them a vision beyond the present moment.” Henri Nouwen wrote that there is a quality of sadness that pervades all the moments of our lives so that even in our most happy moments, there is something missing. In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of limitations. In every success, there is fear of jealousy. In every friendship, there is distance. In every embrace, there is loneliness. There is no such thing as clear-cut, pure joy in this life. Every bit of life is touched by a bit of death. The world can give us peace, except it never does this perfectly. Fr. Ron Rolheiser asks, “What is this peace?” At the last supper, and as he was dying, Jesus offered us his gift of peace. And what is this? It is the absolute assurance that we are connected to the source of life in such a way that nothing, absolutely nothing, can ever sever—not bad health, not betrayal by someone, indeed, not even our own sin. We are unconditionally loved and held by the source of life itself; nothing can change that. Nothing can change God’s unconditional love for us. That’s the meta-narrative we need to keep perspective during the ups and downs of our lives. We are being held unconditionally by God, the source of life itself. If that is true, and it is, then we have an assurance of life, wholeness, and happiness beyond the loss of youth, the loss of health, the loss of reputation, the betrayal of friends, the suicide of a loved one, and even beyond our own sin and betrayals. In the end, as Julian of Norwich says, all will be well, and all will be well, and every manner of being will be well. We need to more deeply appropriate Jesus’ farewell gift to us: “I leave you a peace that no one can take from you: Know that you are loved and held unconditionally.”