The Peacemakers

“I do not want the peace which passeth understanding, I want the understanding which bringeth peace.”

—HELEN KELLER

With all the polarity and violence we are suffering through today, it helps to learn from another time, when the violence and want for vengeance was just as extreme. It helps to understand how another age found their way back to caring for each other. For it’s often a small but courageous pause that lets the fire of our vengeance go out, so that the reach, again, for what matters can ignite our compassion.

This is the story of the five Iroquois Nations, known as “the people of the longhouse.” They are the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca. These tribes have lived for gen- erations in the southern Great Lakes area, extending into Canada and along both sides of the Allegheny Mountains into Virginia, Kentucky, and the Ohio Valley. For decades, these tribes were in vengeful conflict with each other. It was the most violent period in Iroquois history, with one brutal act leading to another.

Legend has it that the Great Spirit contemplated beginning again, the way God in the Western tradition sent Noah to survive the great flood. Instead, the Great Spirit sent a peacemaker to forge a lasting truce among the nations. This took place around 1570.

The first person to accept the peacemaker was a kind woman, Jikonsahseh. Her home was a safe place for anyone, no matter the blood on their hands. Tired warriors would leave their weapons outside and she would bathe them and feed them till they forgot why they were fighting.

Then there was Tadodarho, an evil warrior who resisted the peacemaker with his entire being. Nothing could persuade Tadodarho to accept the notion of peace. Finally, the peace- maker gathered 49 true warriors and together they worked on opening the mind of Tadodarho. Eventually, the dark warrior couldn’t resist and he accepted the notion of peace. It was then that the peacemaker offered Tadodarho a special role in the years to come. Because he knew the heart of violence so intimately, Tadodarho was asked to watch for the signs of violence growing in others. And Tadodarho was asked to guard the fire of peace and to keep it burning on behalf of the five nations. With his heart fully opened, Tadodarho agreed.

This part of the story represents the eternal argument between the peacemaker within us and the vengeful, hurtful one, the Tadodarho within us. Often, we need a safe place to put down our weapons, so we can summon the 49 voices of love to work on the vengeful one who lingers in our darkness.

Once Tadodarho agreed to be the firekeeper of the peace, the peace- maker gathered the chiefs and warriors of the five nations. He saw how hard their hearts were as they gripped their bloodied weapons. So he brought them to the oldest tree he could find. It was an ancient white pine. And with the help of the Great Spirit, he uprooted the tree without harming it and told all the chiefs and warriors to bury their weapons in the unearthed hole of the ancient tree. They all resisted until Tadodarho put his weapons in the hole first. Then one by one the chiefs and warriors followed.

The peacemaker then replanted the tree over the buried weapons and placed an eagle to live atop the white pine, so no one would forget the Great Tree of Peace. In time, the muscular roots grew into place around the decomposing weapons, not letting them surface back into the world. In time, the mulch of the buried weapons fed the roots of peace. And Tadodarho, the evil one turned firekeeper, spent the rest of his days watching over the Great Tree of Peace.

Each time around, we need to bury our weapons under our common roots. Each time we’re tempted toward vengeance, we need to listen to the 49 voices of love until they turn the vengeful one within us into a firekeeper of peace.