When Peace Walked Into Montgomery

Some moments stop you in your tracks. Not because they’re loud, but because they’re heavy with meaning. Witnessing the Venerable Monks on their peace walk through Montgomery, Alabama was one of those moments for me.I saw them twice. First at Metropolitan United Methodist Church, and again at the Buddhist Temple of Mt. Meigs. Both encounters were sacred. Both were unforgettable. My husband, our children, and I received blessing bracelets from the monks. That alone felt historic, intimate, and rare. Because it was.

Many people have never experienced being in the presence of monks at all, let alone Venerable Monks on a historic peace walk. For most, this was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. You could feel it in the room. The quiet. The reverence. The collective understanding that this was something you don’t scroll past or take lightly.

I had been tracking the monks from the moment they began this journey. This wasn’t a pop-up appearance or a symbolic stroll. This was a 2,300-mile walk for peace that began in Fort Worth and is expected to last 120 days. Some of the monks walked barefoot. Some are elderly. They are moving through heat, rain, cold mornings, trash-lined roads, and the physical toll that comes with long-distance walking. And yes, Aloka the dog is walking alongside them too. No shortcuts. No comfort tour. Just commitment.

Here’s another detail that stayed with me. The monks eat once a day, by noon. That’s it. No snacking. No flexibility. That level of discipline is not accidental. It’s intentional. Their bodies are trained to endure, their minds are trained to focus, and their lives are structured around restraint, purpose, and clarity. Watching them walk miles under those conditions makes their presence even more humbling.

People also asked why they wear orange. The robes are not fashion or symbolism for show. Orange represents simplicity, renunciation, and humility. Traditionally, the color comes from natural dyes made from earth, roots, and bark. It’s a visual reminder that monks have stepped away from material life, ego, and excess. When you see that orange robe, you’re not seeing status. You’re seeing surrender. You’re seeing a life committed to discipline, service, and peace.

Here’s the part that hit me in my chest.The Venerable Monks have not been seen publicly like this since 1984. Let that sit. Almost forty years. And now they are walking again, with Washington, DC as their destination.What many people don’t realize is that their route is intentional. Every step is layered with history and meaning. While visiting Selma, the monks paused for a moment of silence on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, where Bloody Sunday took place. From there, they traveled through Hayneville, a town deeply connected to civil rights history, before walking into Montgomery and moving through its historic sites. This was not coincidence. It was alignment.

Do you know how serious a nation’s climate has to be for monks of this stature to come out of silence? In my lifetime, I have never seen another sitting President preside over a moment that warranted a peace walk of this magnitude. That alone tells you everything you need to know about where we are as a country. This walk is not political theater. It’s a spiritual intervention. What many people may be asking is why there has been such a strong interest in the monks. The answer is simple and profound. Monks represent discipline, sacrifice, humility, and moral authority without ego. They do not chase attention, power, or profit. When monks speak, people listen because their lives reflect their message. Their presence signals that something is deeply out of alignment and requires collective reflection, not finger-pointing.

Monks are held in such high regard because they dedicate their lives to peace, compassion, and service. They live simply so others can see clearly. In a world loud with opinions and heavy with division, their silence carries weight. Their walk is not about conversion. It’s about conscience.What moved me to tears both times was not just the monks themselves, but the people. Christian churches opening their doors. Families, elders, children, people of different faiths and backgrounds standing shoulder to shoulder to welcome them. No debates. No divisions. Just presence. Just respect. Just peace.

It was also incredible to witness the generosity. People from everywhere showed up donating food, socks, gloves, skull caps, shoes, and even dog treats for Aloka. No one was told to give. They simply did. That level of compassion reminded me that humanity still knows how to show up when it matters.Watching the monks educate us on why peace matters, why intention matters, and why suffering anywhere affects us all was humbling. They were visibly tired. Yet they showed up anyway. They listened. They blessed. They taught. They kept walking.

My heart hurts for them because I understand the weight they are carrying. But my spirit is also strengthened by their obedience to something greater than comfort.This experience confirmed what many of us already know but sometimes forget. We can come together as people for the greater good. We just have to choose to.For the children who witnessed this, it’s an experience they will never forget. Seeing adults lead with kindness. Seeing faiths intersect without conflict. Seeing discipline modeled alongside compassion.

Peace doesn’t arrive loudly. Sometimes it walks in quietly, barefoot, asking us to pay attention. And this time, I did.