Walk of Peace Catholic Reflection: Living the Gospel Through Everyday Acts of Peace

Jan 22
3 min read

Updated: Feb 10

There is something disarming about watching people walk, really walk, with purpose. No asking. Just steps, one after another, across highways and small towns, through heat, rain, and cold. This is what Tibetan monks are doing right now in their “Walk of Peace,” journeying from Texas all the way to Washington, D.C. And wherever they go, something remarkable happens.

People stop. People wait. People are moved.

They wait by the side of the road just to catch a glimpse of them. They bring water, food, socks, and umbrellas. Some cry. Some walk silently alongside them for a few minutes or a mile. Many say the same thing afterward: “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

The Power of Intention

What makes this walk so powerful is not just the distance or the endurance. It’s the intention. These monks are not asking for anything. They are not recruiting. They are not debating politics or religion. They simply offer presence—peaceful, steady, compassionate presence. Whoever you are. Whatever you believe. Wherever you come from.

And walking alongside them is Aloka, "the peace dog." Even Aloka is inspiring.

Watching a dog walk day after day with such calm faithfulness is inspiring. Aloka doesn’t understand politics or ideology. He doesn’t care who you voted for, how much money you have, or what religion you belong to. He simply walks with them, tail wagging, trusting, offering affection freely to anyone who approaches. Children light up when they see him. Adults soften. Smiles appear almost instantly.

Aloka reminds us of something very simple and very profound: unconditional love still exists. And it doesn’t need words.

A Radical Act of Peace

In a time when our world feels saturated with violence, aggression, and hatred, their walk feels almost radical. Not loud. Not reactive. Radical in its gentleness.

As Catholics, this should sound familiar. We follow a Savior who walked everywhere, who entered towns quietly, who met people where they were—physically and spiritually, who healed, listened, consoled, and loved without first asking for credentials or agreement. The monks’ walk, though rooted in a different faith tradition, reflects something deeply human and deeply Gospel-centered: peace is not an idea; it is a practice.

What’s especially striking is how people respond. The peace they carry seems to awaken something in others. Strangers become helpers. Busy schedules pause. Walls soften. For a moment, fear loosens its grip.

That should make us ask an uncomfortable but necessary question:

If their silent walk can move people so deeply, what could our daily actions do? Most of us are not called to walk across states, but we are all called to walk with others, right where we are. So what can you do today, as a faithful Catholic, to help create peace?

Start Small: Creating Peace at Home

You can start small. Very small.

At home, peace might look like listening without interrupting, letting go of the need to win an argument, offering patience when you’re tired, saying “I’m sorry” first, and turning off the constant noise long enough to really see the people God placed in your care.

Peace in the Workplace

At work, peace might look like refusing to participate in gossip, treating the difficult coworker with dignity, choosing kindness when sarcasm would be easier, and doing your work honestly, even when no one notices.

Nurturing Relationships

With friends and family, peace might mean reaching out instead of withdrawing, checking in on someone who’s struggling, being present instead of distracted, and praying for someone who hurt you, especially when it’s hard.

Extending Peace to the Wider World

And in the wider world, peace might mean slowing down. Offering help without being asked. Seeing the image of God in people who think, vote, or live differently than you do. Remembering that love is not agreement, it is commitment to the good of the other.

The monks keep walking despite the weather, sore feet, and uncertainty. That perseverance is part of the witness. Peace is not convenient. It requires endurance. So does Christian love.

You may never walk from Texas to DC, but today, you can take a few intentional steps toward peace, in your words, your choices, your attention, your mercy.

And who knows? Someone may be waiting, without even realizing it—to be moved by your quiet walk.