Peacekeeping and peacemaking are not the same work.
A peacekeeper keeps the lid on. Avoids the conversation that would crack things open. Changes the subject when things get close to the real issue. Smiles at dinner and never says the true thing. Peacekeepers are not brave people. They're conflict-averse people who've convinced themselves that silence is the same as stability.
Jesus doesn't say, blessed are the peacekeepers. He says peacemakers. The ones who make something that didn't exist before.
Making peace is construction work. It requires you to walk into the middle of the broken thing — the fractured family, the divided community, the wall of silence between two people who used to be close — and do the hard, specific, costly work of building a table where enemies can sit down. Not because it's comfortable. Because someone has to.
The sons of God look like this. They look like their Father, who looked at the chasm between Himself and humanity and instead of leaving it there, built a bridge. And not with materials that were cheap or painless. The cross is the most violent act of peacemaking in history. Real peace, the kind that lasts, always costs the peacemaker something.
You can't make peace from a safe distance. You can't make peace by declaring it from outside the room. You have to go in. You have to sit across from the person or the situation or the part of yourself you've been avoiding. You have to say the true thing — not the cruel thing, not the winning thing, but the honest, vulnerable, table-building thing — and then stay in the room while it lands.
Most people will not do this. They'll wait for the other person to go first. They'll tell the story of the conflict to everyone except the person they're in conflict with. They'll let years pass.
The sons of God go in anyway. They build the table. They take the seat nobody wants.
That's not naive. That's the family business.