“Show Vessels”

On my desk to the right of the keyboard sits a critical piece to everyday existence: a coffee mug! I have a Facebook friend who must be a more avid coffee drinker than I. Nearly every day he’ll post a meme or two related to coffee—that life begins after coffee…there are two food groups: coffee and every other edible thing. Things like that. I’m not that bad, but I do enjoy my first-thing-in-the-morning cup, a full 12 ounces in my favorite Green Mountain Club mug.

The one on my desk—a photo mug from my son and daughter-in-law—is not as frequently used, but it is my go-to mug when I need a mid-day java boost. I have a few other favorites I’ll use from time to time. An odd choice is a mug we got from the vet 25 years ago when we lived in Vermont. It’s nothing special—a ceramic mug with Hill’s dog food logo etched in it. I like it simply because of the functionality of the thing. It holds a full 12 oz. and is heavy enough to keep the coffee hot. Then we have a set of four Vermont Coffee Roasters café mugs. Again, great insulating properties, but smaller. So these are my mugs of choice when I don’t want a huge jolt.

My wife, too, has her favorite every-morning mug—a gift from a relative that he purchased at Caribou Coffee years ago. Again, it holds a lot and keeps the brew warm.

How many travel mugs are in your cabinet? We’ve quite the collection. Most are freebies from Chris’s former employer—a promotional products company that was quite generous in sharing samples with the workforce. I’m guessing the majority of coffee-drinkers-on-the-go would be thoroughly satisfied with these handy vessels. Well-made of stainless steel, with a couple different kinds of lids to avoid spillage, but easy to drink out of, they have been used frequently in our household for hot and cold beverages.

But I’m a bit too picky when it comes to my coffee, I guess. There must be some kind of chemical interaction between the acid in the coffee and the stainless steel because, to my palate at least, the flavor is off in those things. Hearing my lament, my wonderful bride gave me a ceramic-lined travel mug as a Christmas gift one year. It’s great! Holds plenty of brew, keeps it hot for a long time, spill-proof, and doesn’t mess up the flavor! And no, I’m not a salesman for the brand.

Besides all that, there are probably two dozen mugs in the kitchen cabinet that are rarely used. And then there are the coffee cups that came with Corelle everyday dishes. Those get used maybe twice a year. The thing is, though, all the mugs in the cabinet are perfectly useful and available at a moment’s notice.

Now, I’ve spilled all the ink talking about our commonly used coffee mugs to heighten the contrast between those mugs and the couple dozen we own that have never held a drop of coffee, tea, hot chocolate—or any other beverage, for that matter. Some line a narrow shelf behind the couch in the family room. Three sit on the top of a secretary desk. The rest find their place at the end of a row of books on one of twelve bookshelves. Oh, then there are a few packed away in a box in the storage room.

Souvenir mugs, I call them. We’ve collected them over the past nearly 30 years from various places we’ve visited. The largest collection from a single trip is tied to our 25^th Anniversary adventure in California, one each from Carmel, San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, Yosemite, and Sequoia National Park. We have a couple from Vermont. A few from Maine. Then there’s Florida…the Grand Canyon…Singapore…Malaysia…Door County, Wisconsin…San Diego (a different trip)…Minnesota…Erie, Pennsylvania…Hilton Head…Six Flags…Cedar Point…Niagara Falls…and most recently, Costa Rica. Surely I’m missing something.

So the thing about these mugs, in stark contrast to their counterparts in the kitchen, is that they serve no practical everyday function. They sit on a shelf collecting dust—or are tucked away in a box somewhere. Oh sure, most of them are pretty cool. Some are just pretty. Some, downright funky. Some are plain; some, fancy. Some quite unique; some, typical other than the chintzy applique. Regardless, their only function is to sit on a shelf and look nice.

That’s not quite right.

They do have a very important function. Sometimes I’ll be sitting in the family room, glance up from my reading, and one of those ceramic souvenirs will grab my attention. Next thing you know, I’m far away. Chris and I are hiking the trail to Vernal Falls in Yosemite, riding bikes along the lakeside in South Lake Tahoe, catching a San Francisco trolley, or descending into the Grand Canyon on the Bright Angel Trail. Or the family is riding bikes on the carriage trails in Acadia National Park or frolicking on the beach in Hilton Head Island. Or we’re on the Maid of the Mist with rain ponchos protecting us from the mist spraying off the thundering falls, or riding the twisting, plunging roller coasters at Cedar Point. Or we’re looking for toucans and macaws and monkeys in the Costa Rican rainforest. Or camping by a creek in New Hampshire or through a stormy night in Door County.

These “show vessels” are touchpoints to the past. They trigger memories. They call us to remember. Yet, honestly, most of the time they’re ignored, taken for granted. Occasionally and understandably, they can be a bit of a nuisance to clean and to clean around. But when we take the time to look, and allow ourselves to remember, the value of these relatively inexpensive “show vessels” rises higher than a share of Amazon stock.

When the descendants of Jacob, the Israelites of the Old Testament, stood on the east bank of the Jordan River and prepared for that momentous trek through the dry river bed, God instructed Joshua to have a leader from each of the twelve tribes grab a large stone from the river bed and take it to the other side. When they all completed the brief trek, He then told them to create a cairn out of those stones and explained:

That this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, “What do these stones mean to you?” then you shall tell them that the waters of Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord….So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.

Joshua 4:6-7

Just a pile of rocks. Individually unspectacular; collectively, immensely significant. Their task in this world was not to form a fence row to protect vulnerable sheep from predators. Nor were they to form the foundation of a house or palace. They didn’t get chiseled and shaped into a very functional millstone or a grand statue.

They existed merely for show. A pile of rocks standing unmistakably in a field near Gilgal. I wonder how long it was before the pile was no longer noticed, taken for granted, and largely ignored—like the “show vessels” in our family room.

That it happened, I’m sure. But I’m also quite confident that a generation or two later, a Papa and his young grandson were headed down to the Jordan for a little fishing expedition when the little guy stopped and looked off to the south a ways. Then Papa stopped to see what caught his attention. Papa saw nothing, at first. Then his grandson asked with a puzzled look on his face,

“Papa, why is that big pile of stones over there?”

Ah yes. Now Papa noticed the pile he’d seen scores of times over the years.

“Well, buddy.” Papa began, “Let me tell you what Yahweh did for my Papa and all our people years ago….”