The Historical Stones

The ancient standing stones of Callanish, rising like crosses against the sky, have become a beacon in Saint Augustine's mission to spread Christianity throughout Britain. While tradesmen, immigrants, and legionaries from Rome had introduced Christianity to Britain by the late third century, it failed to take root. But as Rome crumbled under poor leadership and misguided ambition, another power rose—Christianity. Unlike Rome's armies that imposed their will with swords, monks spread their message with kindness and conviction, wielding no weapons except their faith.

Morag, a revered figure on her island, sat on a flat stone, weaving herbs and flowers into an offering for Cerridwen, the moon goddess and keeper of the cauldron of knowledge. Failing harvests plagued her community, seen as signs of the old gods' displeasure with the rise of Christianity.

“Mother?” a voice interrupted her concentration.

“I’m busy,” Morag replied, engrossed in her task.

“The monks want to use the stones for a ceremony,” her son informed her.

As a mother figure to the island since her own mother's passing, Morag's wisdom had guided them through many trials. Yet now, she felt pushed aside, her beliefs deemed outdated. She knew her role and was ready to defend it against another invasion, this time spiritual.

“Mother! Answer me.”

“I remember when you helped with the offerings. You've seen the moon god dance among the stones,” she said.

“What does that have to do with anything? I am a Christian,” he retorted.

Before she could reply, monks approached, their robes marking them as men of faith, though not so different from Morag herself.

“Why is this woman here? We need the stones for our ceremony!” the lead monk declared.

“This is my mother; she is a priestess,” her son responded.

The monk’s gaze shifted from her son to Morag, taking in her defiant posture and the basket of offerings in her hand.

“You’ll have to move. We have a ceremony tonight,” the monk insisted.

“I am making an offering to Cerridwen for blessings on our harvest,” Morag replied.

“Why haven’t you converted? You will kneel before Jesus Christ, the one true God,” the monk asserted.

Realizing the monk was trying to assert dominance and sway the crowd, Morag saw an opportunity to challenge him.

“Fine, hold your ceremony tonight. But beware, our moon goddess will dance here tomorrow, and her curse will be upon all who attend your ceremony.”

With that, Morag leapt from the stone, parting the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea. As she left, she noticed many villagers following her, their faith in the monks shaken.

____

“Priestess, will the moon god curse us?” a young girl asked later.

“Cerridwen will dance with the stones tomorrow night, ceremony or not,” Morag reassured.

“Then why say that?” someone else asked.

“I care for our ancient gods who have watched over us. Watch the monks' reaction to my so-called curse tomorrow night and see who truly acts out of fear.”

____

The next morning, Morag was awakened by villagers urgently knocking on her door.

“They’re gone!” they exclaimed.

“All of them,” another added.

“The monks fled when your prediction came true,” a woman said.

“I warned them,” Morag replied.

“You control the storms,” a man claimed.

Suddenly, the sky darkened, lightning flashed, and waves roared against the shore. The monks' boat was nowhere to be seen.

“Why did you kill them?” the little girl asked.

“The curse didn’t kill them; ignorance did,” Morag replied.

As the storm raged, Morag reflected on the power of belief and the dangers of blind faith. She had warned them, but they had chosen to ignore her, putting their faith in one thing and dismissing another. As she returned to bed, she lit a fire, pondering the thin line between faith and folly.