Sacred Stones: Ancient Celtic Crosses And their Life-Affirming Messages for Today

Beginning and Welcome

This is the beginning of my soon-to-be-published book Sacred Stones. I’d love to know what you think of it. Does this make you want to read more of the book? Do you resonate with what’s written in this beginning section? What would you like to see talked about in the rest of the book? Please give me your feedback so I can create the best possible product for publication.

Beginning and Welcome

(Some important things to know about this book)

            “Hey! Cool! I have a cross like that!” I was strolling in a New York greenspace when I came upon a busker, strumming a worn guitar, dressed all in black, his head crowned with a stovepipe hat. He burst into a friendly grin and pointed at a wheel- cross on a necklace over his chest. It was indeed a likeness of the Celtic cross that I wore.

I wasn’t surprised by this busker’s enthusiasm for his pendant. The symbol of the Celtic cross is ubiquitous. From the Glasgow-based Celtic Football Club to the vigilante movie Boondock Saints, from the official logo of the Presbyterian Church USA to the logo for a kilt maker, the wheeled cross has become an all-around symbol of...well...lots of things. A tattoo shop advertises a Celtic cross tattoo design as “Pagan, Druid, Goth, Metal, Wicca cross.” How’s that for covering all the bases?

The popularity of the Celtic Cross is obvious. And yet, of the thousands of people who wear some form of this emblem, most have little understanding of its actual history or meaning. Even the most obvious question—"why do these crosses have a ring around the center?” --defies easy explanation. If you search the internet, you’ll find much “information” about the Celtic Cross most of which is spurious.

Since my childhood, I’ve owned a wall plaque representation of an ancient Irish cross, and I’ve often pondered its meaning. So, my heart leaped the first time that I came into the presence of a Medieval high cross. My wife and I were in Lochaline on the Morvern Peninsula of Scotland, waiting for the ferry to cross over to Mull and then on to the fabled island of Iona. There was a sign near the car park that noted nearby Kiel church, founded by Saint Columba, so we dashed up to have a look at the site.

In the churchyard, on a promontory looking out over the ocean, stood the Keil cross. It was half-again my height, of grey stone, weathered and lichen covered. It was decorated with delicate vine designs, a star-pattern in the center, and two serpents on its base. That cross grabbed a little bit of my soul and I realized that these ancient stone monuments hold life-affirming messages for us today.

Over many subsequent trips I’ve gathered photos and knowledge of the ancient stone crosses. I believe that I’ve answered some of the questions they pose and found more questions still unanswered. In all this travel and research, I’ve become more convinced that these ancient crosses have messages to share.

People in the Early Middle Ages took for granted that sacred art would communicate to its onlookers; Wendy A. Stein, a researcher at The Cloisters, Metropolitan Museum of Art, in New York City, says “Art in the Middle Ages had agency; as a conduit to the sacred person represented, it was deemed able not only to listen to a supplicant’s prayers but also to win battles and cure illnesses. As a stand-in for its prototype in heaven, an image…would be treated as a person in its own right.”[i]( italics are mine)

That may be a bit of a mental stretch for some of us in the twenty-first century, but let’s look at it more closely: if the ancient crosses do indeed convey messages, who speaks through them? Who is the messenger? Consider three possibilities.

There is, of course, the artist. No one will argue that a painter, sculptor, filmmaker, or composer desires to convey ideas to their audience. The individuals who fashioned the high crosses surely intended to convey messages to all those who would gaze at their work in the future.

And I expect most of you would also agree that the artists (ancient crosses were often constructed by a small team) who made these crosses intended their work to convey messages representative of their faith community. Professors of art have documented various clues showing how patron-rulers, monastery leaders, and honored teachers provided input into the messages of the crosses.

 I choose to believe in something even larger. It is not a dogmatic conviction; you may disagree and still benefit from reading this book. But this belief impelled me to labor for eighteen months writing this text. People of the Early Middle Ages, across the expanse of Christendom, placed representations of the cross “on a level with the Holy Scriptures…as one of the forms of revelation and knowledge of God…Each is the reflection of a higher world, each the Symbol of the Spirit contained within them, each transmits teaching and expresses the grace given to the life of the church.”[ii](italics mine). To my satisfaction, the Living Spirit of the Universal Christ still speaks through these objects which human hands have formed. Revelations imparted by ancient Celtic crosses are not on par with the Scriptures, yet they nevertheless speak with Christ’s compassionate voice, imparting healing, encouragement, joy, and God’s heartfelt affection. They assist the process of our transformation into the Divine nature (2 Peter 1:4).

            Before you dive in, it may be helpful to explain a few of the terms used in this book, beginning with the word “Celtic.” Centuries before the time of Christ, the ancient Greeks encountered tribes in Europe whom they called “Keltoi.” Thousands of years later,  the term “Celtic” was revived by 18th century antiquarians to denote peoples living in Brittany, Cornwall, Ireland, the Isle of Man, Scotland, and Wales. The inhabitants of these “Celtic” regions share related ancestral languages. While scholars debate the usefulness of the term “Celtic,” it persists in common usage.

In this book, when I speak of ‘Celtic’ crosses I refer to those constructed during the Early Middle Ages (between 400 and 1100) in the Celtic nations, with a circle at the center of the cross, and often with carved patterns adorning their surfaces. I also use the terms ‘circle cross,’ ‘wheel cross,’ or ‘encircled cross’ to avoid undue repetition.

 Long before the faith of Christ reached their lands, Celtic people loved the number three, carving triskeles (three-headed swirls) on stone-age monuments. Likewise, each chapter of this book follows a three-fold pattern: first there is an Encounter section which shares a narrative, either my lived experience or an historical vignette. Then there is Deepening, consisting of historical or artistic information. Finally, the Application section of each chapter shares spiritual practices for your personal transformation. You may read the chapters in any order.

When the street musician showed me his cross, I smiled back and asked him “What does it mean to you?” He told me, “It’s like the stuff that I’m into.” Apparently, that was the Goth metal music scene. I chatted with him for a few minutes and put a donation in the open guitar case.

I expect that for you also, the Celtic Cross connects with “the stuff that you’re into.” Whether that is Celtic mythology, or the history of the Isles, or family heritage, or following the Christ-way, something in this work will interest you. And for people who find themselves drawn to the Celtic forms of Christian faith and practice, there may be an even richer boon. I believe that a survey of the ancient high crosses, paying heed to the communications hidden in their form, can yield a complete guide to the whole domain of Celtic Christian spirituality. 

I hope that reading this book will not only bring you pleasure, but something more valuable--wisdom, and a warming of your heart.

The cross of the saints and of the angels

be with me

From the top of my face

 to the edge of my soles.^[iii]

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[i] Wendy A. Stein, How to Read Medieval Art (New York, NY, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2016) 17.

[ii] The Icon Cross: The Monastic Church of St. Augustine (Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, New York, acquired from the Monastic Church of St. Augustine October 6, 2023) 1.

^[iii] Alexander Carmicheal, Carmina Gadelica, Volume 1& II Hymns and Incantations (USA, Forgotten Books, 2007) 47.

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