This week marks the 135th anniversary of Washington’s statehood. It was on November 11, 1889 that we became the 42nd state of the union. After Colorado was admitted in 1876 as the 38th state, thirteen years would pass until four more states North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana and Washington were welcomed by President Benjamin Harrison in 1889.

As you probably learned in high school civics, our state (named for our first president) was designated a territory in 1853. That’s when Chief Sealth (aka Chief Seattle) a member of the Duwamish and Suquamish tribes negotiated land use and ownership with Governor Isaac Stevens.

Chief Sealth stood head and shoulders above this diminutive (and often controversial) territorial governor who measured only 5’3”. Throughout my childhood, whenever I went to Seattle to visit my grandparents, I’d make note of the bronze Chief Sealth statue at the corner of 5th Avenue and Denny Way. His extended right hand conveyed a spirit of peace.

A few years ago, I stopped at Chief Sealth’s grave near the Agate Pass Bridge in Kitsap County. It was there I learned that the man after whom Washington’s largest city is named died a Christian. Some fifteen years before his death, Chief Sealth was inconsolable after one of his sons died on the battlefield. A French missionary who had settled in Washington Territory drew near to the Native American leader and explained the tenets of Christianity.

Sealth embraced the “good news” and converted to Roman Catholicism. Upon his baptism, he took a Christian name. As his grave marker indicates, for the last years of his life he was called Noah Sealth. It was a name that had prophetic implications. Much like the Old Testament shipbuilder, Chief Sealth disregarded the protesting voices of the surrounding community and followed a vision he believed had been given him by God.

Several weeks ago I had the privilege of meeting Amber Cantu, the famous chief’s six-generation-great-granddaughter. As I have interacted with Amber and researched her own journey, I’ve discovered that the last years of Chief Sealth’s life were marked by a tangible consequence of his conversion. This once powerful warrior became known as a man of peace.

Amber, who takes much pride in her connection to Chief Sealth, believes that her famous ancestor recognized the significance of building bridges of friendship. Although many within the local tribes questioned the trustworthiness of the settlers’ ambitions and goals, Amber holds to the belief that Chief Sealth understood the need to cooperate and extend goodwill.

Amber celebrates the covenant relationship the chief had with Seattle pioneer David Denny. She also believes that these two men along with other spiritually sensitive leaders in the infant city saw a vision for Seattle. It was a vision that celebrated ethnically diverse peoples capitalizing on our area’s rich natural resources and strategic geographic location.

Although Chief Seattle died twenty-three years before Washington Territory became Washington State, it is his great-granddaughter’s belief that he would not be surprised by the influence our state would have in its earliest decades (and continues to have now).

This week as Washington commemorates this milestone anniversary of statehood, I am aware that Chief Sealth’s passion for peace and a cooperative spirit would serve the Pacific Northwest well. In this season of political division and spiritual apathy, the courage and faith of some modern-day Noahs would offer hope. In a graveyard of buried dreams and unfulfilled goals for our region, the headstone of the chief reminds me of what is possible.

As I read my Bible, I am inspired by those individuals who were willing to act on what they believed to be inspired truth as opposed to caving the voices of the crowd. In addition to Noah, I’m thinking of people like Daniel, Esther, Gideon, Ruth, Job and Stephen. May their tribe increase!

Guest columnist Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former chaplain at Covenant Living at the Shores in Mercer Island.