THE SCENE: The Old Gods battle with the New in this strange religious parable involving human sacrifice and Deus Ex Machina.
THE TEXT: Vladimir then began to reign alone in Kiev, and he set up idols on the hills outside the castle with the hall: one of Perun, made of wood with a head of silver and a mustache of gold, and others of Khors, Dazh’bog, Stribog, Simar’gl, and Mokosh. The people sacrificed to them, calling them gods, and brought their sons and their daughters to sacrifice them to these devils. They desecrated the earth with their offerings, and the land of Rus’ and this hill were defiled with blood.
Now there was a certain Varangian whose house was situation by the spot. This Varangian had immigrated from Greece. He adhered to the Christian faith, and he had a son, fair in face and in heart, on whom, through the devil’s hatred, the lot fell. Messengers thus came and said to the father, “Since the lot has fallen upon your son, the gods have claimed him as their own. Let us therefore make sacrifice to the gods.” But the Varangian replied, “These are not gods, but only idols of wood. Today it is, and tomorrow it will rot away. These gods do not eat, or drink, or speak; they are fashioned by hand out of wood. But the God whom the Greeks serve and worship is one; it is he who has made heaven and earth, the stars, the moon, the sun, and mankind, and has granted him life upon early. But what have these gods created? They are themselves manufactured. I will not give up my son to devils.”
So the messengers went back and reported to the people. The latter took up arms, marched against the Varangian and his son, and on breaking down the stockade about his house, found him standing with his son upon the porch. They then called upon him to surrender his son that they might offer him to the gods. But he replied, “If they be gods, they will send one of their number to take my son. What need have you of him?” They straightaway raised a shout, and broke up the structure under them. Thus the people killed them, and no one knows where they are buried.
– Tales of Bygone Years, Nestor, 12th Century AD
[Image Credit: Simon E. Davies]
