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While traveling through England and Wales during the final stretch of America’s presidential election, I expected to have some controversial conversations.
I got them. But the recurring topic wasn’t politics. It was Stonehenge.
My wife, Amanda, and I went to Stonehenge with low expectations. We’re glad we did it. It’s probably the part of our two-week trip we’ve discussed the most. It turns out that many other travelers hate Stonehenge – like, one-star review hatred – and curse the day they wasted time visiting that dumb pile of rocks.
I’m sympathetic to the abhorrence of touristy rocks. I often think about the time we visited Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts only to read about how its significance is entirely a myth – and the rock itself wasn’t even interesting to look at. If you take nothing else from this column, remember this: Plymouth Rock sucks. Never visit.
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Unlike Plymouth Rock, though, Stonehenge is actually good. As with anything, your mileage may vary.
If you go in expecting to stare at some rocks and leave, then you’ll get what you pay for. But, if you’re open to seeking communion with millennia of human ancestors, then Stonehenge offers an awesome sense of perspective.
The main stone circle has existed in southern England for between 4,000 and 5,000 years. No one can say for sure why, or how, people constructed the rocks precisely as they are.
“The interpretation which is most generally accepted is that of a prehistoric temple aligned with the movements of the sun,” per English Heritage, the caretaker of Stonehenge and other important historical sites. “These were places to honour the ancestors and mark important moments in the calendar.
“At the center of this belief system was the sun, with the solstice alignments enshrined within the fabric of the monument. Stonehenge was not ‘one’ monument, but rather was built, altered, and revered for over 1,500 years, around 100 generations.”
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The famous circle does not exist in isolation. The surrounding area includes other stone structures and about 350 burial mounds, which collectively are thousands of years older than the main attraction. Humans have been laboring around Stonehenge for an unfathomably long time.
I’ll admit the rocks don’t present an obviously magnificent site to the modern eye. Full appreciation takes imagination. But you’re not there to look at the rocks, per se. You’re witnessing a monument to humanity’s search for meaning, a quest underway since time immemorial.
From the prehistoric people who built Stonehenge to the sophisticated modern thinkers who’ve left us their writing, art and architecture at nearby Oxford, the entire recorded work product of our species amounts to a thirst to make sense of what we’re all doing here.
My journey to answering that question has led me to trust in God revealed through Jesus. But, even as I profess intellectual confidence in my own purpose, I experience spirals of anxiety, stress and doubt as I lose myself, and my priorities, in myriad short-term uncertainties. On any given day, I feel unmoored.
In those moments, it’s not certainty that gives me hope. It’s my connection to fellow travelers, past and present, all trying to solve humanity’s puzzle with only fragmented perspectives. We’re not alone. We’ve never been alone.
Modern science and technology give us illusions of power today. But future generations may look back on our Teslas, smartphones and social media posts only to see simple people moving rocks in circles. Why did those people create all those memes? What did the Cybertruck mean? Who can say?
You might believe humanity is an intentional creation, or you might chalk up our existence to an incomprehensible fluke. Regardless of where you land, that question has driven human endeavors for thousands of years, and it will continue to inspire our greatest exertions for as long as we survive in this form.
I look at Stonehenge and see a reflection of myself and my toils. I think about the people who constructed it and how they believed in purpose. I agree with them. I give Stonehenge five stars.
Contact James Briggs at [email protected]. Follow him on X and Threads at @JamesEBriggs. This column originally appeared in The Indianapolis Star.