When it comes to standing stones, Stonehenge gets all the attention. But according to the BBC, Scotland’s Callanish (pictured) and Stenness standing stones are even older than Stonehenge — and were just as sacred.

That’s the running theory, at least. Stenness and Callanish both date back to around 5,000 years ago, and this was about the time people were shifting from a hunter-gatherer lifestyle into an agricultural one. It was also the time they started building monuments, and that’s where stone circles come in.

The theory that both of these stone circles served a dual purpose as monuments to the dead and observatories went back to Alexander Thom’s work in the 1930s, but it was only in 2016 that researchers from the University of Adelaide confirmed that yes, the stones were aligned with the most extreme positions of the Sun and the Moon.

It wasn’t just a way to keep track of the seasons, though. Researchers believe these stones were an acknowledgement of the builders’ place in the universe and were a nod to the idea that the land and nature were much more powerful than any person could hope to be. Other archaeologists and historians lean even more heavily into the idea that they were built as monuments to the dead, and the two are very connected. University of Adelaide’s Gail Higginbottom explains: “There was still a sympathetic magic. They believed that if they set up these monuments, they [were] connecting death and [nature].”

No matter where they’re from, it seems as though indigenous peoples have historically gotten the short end of the stick — and that’s absolutely true for Australia’s Aboriginal peoples. The chronic lack of respect they’ve been shown is nowhere more evident than around Uluru, the sandstone rock that National Geographic says has been one of Australia’s most popular tourist stops since the beginning of the 20th century.

For tens of thousands of years, Aboriginal peoples have had a powerful connection to their land, and one — Anangu elder Tony Tjamiwa — explained that while visitors might photograph a rock, there was much more to Uluru: “He should get another lens — see straight inside. He would see that Kuniya living right inside there, as from the beginning. He might throw his camera away then.”

Kuniya, says Parks Australia, was a giant python who once hatched her eggs at Uluru. It was the same place where her nephew was killed by a group of poisonous snakes, and where Kuniya first took her revenge on the murderous snakes and then merged with Uluru, where she remains.

It’s easy to see how the actions of countless tourists have brought with them an infinite amount of pain, but there’s good news: As of October 26, 2019, climbing on Australia’s Uluru was no longer allowed.

Voodoo is one of the world’s ancient religions, and at the center of the Epe Ekpe festival in Togo is a sacred stone. Every year, a voodoo priest heads into a sacred forest near the village of Glidji and emerges with the sacred stone. The color of the stone is thought to foreshadow the events of the coming year, and it can also send a very important message about what the gods think of the activities of mankind.

In 2004, NPR says the priest emerged holding a white stone — and it was a huge deal. White stones signified coming happiness, and seeing a white stone meant the faithful assembled at the village could kick off the new year with a sense of hopefulness.

It’s not always such good news, though. A red stone is a clear sign that there’s danger and tragedy on the horizon, and in 2015, Gulf News reported that the turquoise blue stone brought from the forest sent a very direct message. Guin elder Togbe Kombete interpreted: “We have offended our ancestors with our little squabbles. We must sit down quickly around a table and talk so we no longer have these small problems.”

The ceremony of the sacred stone officially started in 1663, and some people travel a long way to be there. One attendee explained: “It’s the tradition that our ancestors left us and I will never abandon it. This sacred stone is my spirit.”

It’s no secret that starting with Henry VIII’s determination to get both divorces and sons, there was a massive schism in Christianity. While England followed their king, Ireland held onto their Catholic ways — and between the 16th and 18th centuries, observing Mass was a crime punishable by death.

It got bad when Edward VI banned Mass, and it got worse when Oliver Cromwell showed up, says ACN Ireland. The answer was to continue to do what Catholics had been doing for a long time — take Mass out of the churches and hold them on altar-shaped rocks that were consecrated for secret ceremonies.

According to UK Research and Innovation’s Arts and Humanities Research Council, the locations of Mass rocks weren’t recorded — it was simply too dangerous, as priest-hunters absolutely knew about them. Each county had hundreds of Mass rocks, and many sites were chosen because they held an innate spirituality and were connected to pre-Christian, pagan worship. They were often well-hidden, difficult to get to, and generally not talked about.

Some are still in use today. The movement to take Mass back to these centuries-old places came with Friar Gerard Quirke’s celebration of a special Easter Mass at a rock on Achill Island, and The Tablet says that led to a movement to recognize the June 20th Feast of the Irish Martyrs at Mass rocks across the country.

Belief in the divinity of seer stones, explains The Joseph Smith Papers, goes back a long time. During the medieval era, stones were used to find lost items or other invisible things, and that belief was brought to the U.S. with European immigrants.

Joseph Smith regularly used seer stones — occasionally in the search for buried treasure — and when his angel appeared to him with instructions on translating the Book of Mormon, the use of two seer stones was in those instructions, too. It was a relatively unique use for seer stones, and according to Deseret News, the precise information of how, when, and what stones is kind of vague.

They do say, however, that Smith had several different stones, although where he got them from isn’t clear. Two stones — which together made one seer stone — were said to have been given to him by the angel, while other stones he discovered along Lake Erie … or while he was digging a well. His papers indicate that he used a white seer stone, a brown one, and the two Nephite stones, which are the ones that showed him the Book of Mormon, written one sentence (and one name) at a time.

It was only in 2015 that the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-day Saints released official photos of the seer stone (via KUTV), before it was moved to Harmony, Pennsylvania, and the LDS church visitors’ center.

When the British Pilgrimage Trust laid out their 110 different routes, they went through a number of ancient sites. Arguably one of the most important is Avebury, which The Guardian describes as one of the most revered places in the country — and it’s been that way for somewhere around 5,000 years.

Avebury, says English Heritage, makes Stonehenge look a bit like amateur hour. Construction on the complex started around 2850 B.C., and while archaeologists don’t have a complete handle on the whys, whats, and hows, they do have some pretty detailed guesses as to what’s gone on there over the years.

While the exact rituals and ceremonies held there have been long lost to the mists of history, the general consensus is that the 100 stones of Avebury were erected as a sacred link between the earthly and the divine. Just what that divine power was undoubtedly has changed over the course of thousands of years, and Guidelines to Britain says that archaeological finds show that it was a place to gather and feast. Some believe it was built as an offering to the deities that controlled the weather, in hopes that this earthly acknowledgement would help keep the builders safe from things like drought, disease, and, in turn, starvation.

The area of Colombia that’s home to El Peñon de Guatape is pretty flat, says Atlas Obscura, and the rock — all 10 million tons and 650 feet of it — stands out over the landscape. By the middle of the 20th century, it was just another rock in the way … until locals climbed it in an expedition that took a whopping five days. That was the beginning of the construction of a staircase within the rock’s single crack, and the transformation from sacred spot to tourist attraction. Today, visitors can spend a few bucks to climb the 649 steps to some incredible views, but to the Tahamí people who used to live there, the rock meant so much more.

According to Outdoor Revival, the Tahamí who once lived in the area heavily relied on fishing for survival. Among their deities was a divine fish named Batolito, and regular offerings to Batolito helped guarantee bountiful fish.

Batolito, however, wasn’t exactly a god — and when the gods realized how devout the Tahamí were, they decided to do a little teaching … in a supreme deity sort of way. Batolito leapt from the waters to protect his people, and while he succeeded in driving off the gods, he fell to the ground, mortally wounded. He became El Peñon, and his faithful continued to worship him until they, too, retreated into the mists of long-lost history.

Indiana Jones famously pointed out that the cup of a carpenter wouldn’t contain 10 pounds of gold and as many jewels, but there’s another version of the Holy Grail that’s even stranger.

The Grail first shows up in Arthurian legend in the works of Chretien de Troyes, and there, University of Bristol Reader in Medieval Literature Leah Tether says (via The Conversation) it’s described as a wide platter. One of the knights who fails in the quest for Chretien’s grail is Parzival (or Perceval), and his story is picked up by Wolfram von Eschenbach in around 1210.

But here, the Grail isn’t a cup or a dish at all — it’s a stone. Oxford Scholarship Online says that Parzival’s Grail was actually a consecrated altar made from a green gemstone and absolutely immoveable for any man. Only a woman could move the altar, and as the story unfolds, audiences learn it was ultimately responsible for reuniting Muslims and Christians in peace. When Parzival finally fulfills his destiny as King of the Grail, he and his wife both act as custodians to the stone delivered to mankind by God himself, and on each Good Friday, the Holy Ghost descends from Heaven to place a wafer on the Grail and bestow divine powers (via the BBC).

An odd interpretation, for sure, but who’s to say it’s wrong?