Isaiah

They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks;
one nation shall not raise the sword against another,
nor shall they train for war again.
O house of Jacob, come,
let us walk in the light of the Lord!

Isaiah 2: 1-5

It’s such a glorious idea: humankind ending war and starting peace. When I was little, I believed it was right around the corner. Now, I think that only the eschaton can make it happen. But I know at least that the eschaton will happen. Without that hope, I think peace will never happen. Isaiah may have believed that, too:

  The first sword we e'er knew was flame
 to bar us from our native home
 and bid us wildernesses tame,
 all in fulfillment of our doom.
 Not long, and all the weapons came,
 and still the wastelands do not bloom.

What will you do with us, O Lord,
 who break no ground but cleave our kin?
Who till the earth only to scour
 for worthless stones therein to win?
 Who have no jewels of any worth
 except their glaring, glitt'ring sin?
 
  I shall say, 'Come!' (so says the Lord).
 'My house is higher than the hills;
 its chambers echo with my Word
 whose music there will heal your ills.
 The nations shall stream hitherward
 to learn what Zion's savior wills.'
  
 And then, oh, then we'll wonders see!
They'll drive their swords into the ground
 to till and turn the desert green.
 The waste with harvest will abound!
 The world shall all one garden be
 whose fruits in every heart are found!