For me, Mother Teresa fit into that category. So did Pope John Paul II. So do a handful of unfamous, but unquestionably holy, folks I've been lucky enough to have in my orbit over the years. They emanate a light so clear and peaceful, they inspire other souls to glow, too.

I was hoping, when I visited the Kimmel Center yesterday to hear the Dalai Lama speak, to experience a similar warmth from the man who has received the Nobel Peace Prize, a Congressional Gold Medal and countless other awards in honor of his messages of love and nonviolence.

His Holiness was in town at the invitation of the local Kalmyk (Buddhist) Brotherhood Society of America, and his lecture was an introduction to Buddhism for those of us not of that faith, as well as a teaching lesson for those who practice it.

My humble verdict: The leader of Tibetan Buddhism has the glow.

You could feel it when, dressed in simple scarlet-and-saffron robes, he took the stage at Verizon Hall, gently bowing to the 33 monks who awaited him there.

And when he grinned hugely and bowed to the cheering crowd, who fell silent as he lay prostrate in prayer.

And when he sat barefoot and cross-legged on an easy chair in the middle of the stage. He exuded a warmth so palpable, Verizon Hall's majestic performance space actually felt like an intimate place where personal enlightenment might occur.

Which it did, for me, when he spoke about our need for "internal disarmament."

Human beings, he said, are armed with the weapons of fear and all its permutations, like jealousy, anger, suspicion and mistrust. We use them to do battle with the one virtue that leads to peace: compassion.

So, if we want peace, disarming our fear and replacing it with compassion is the only way to obtain it. Toss in affection for our fellow humans, mix in some humor and - there you have it - serenity is kind of guaranteed.

Not just for ourselves, but for the 6.7 billion-plus people with whom we share the planet. That's key, he said, since we're as related to them as our arms are to our legs - i.e., we're all of one body. So unless we're all at peace, none of us really is.

I'm paraphrasing here, mostly because the Dalai Lama's heavily accented English was often hard to decipher in Verizon Hall, where crying babies and chirping cell phones didn't make the listening any easier.

But I think I got his message right. And, because he chose such an interesting way to make his case for peace - "internal disarmament" is such an evocative image - the message sounded new, even though it's the bedrock of most religious traditions.

Actually, it's a bedrock for most peaceful, joyful people - the kind whom I think define the word "holy" whether they're religious or not.

Kris Peterson thinks that "holiness" is what's possible when we fully engage in "the journey to become more human - more generous, loving and caring."

Peterson, a Lutheran minister, knows that we're all capable of such a state. That was a big reason she made her way to the Kimmel Center yesterday, to hear how the Dalai Lama would illuminate the path to holiness.

"I found him to be a wonderful teacher," said Peterson, whom I met before the lecture and caught up with again afterward. "I love how he stressed that we should study our own religious faith, so

we're not just practicing religious traditions but really understanding their principles,"

None of it is easy. The path to peace never will be.

But it's not complicated, either.

Which was a wonderful thing to remember, on a hot Wednesday afternoon in July, surrounded by people on a hopeful path. *

E-mail polaner@phillynews.com or call 215-854-2217. For recent columns:

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