Ancient Demosthenes astutely observed, “As a vessel is known by the sound, whether it be cracked or not; so men are proved by their speeches whether they be wise or foolish.” Others have implied that an empty vessel makes the loudest sound. I’ve observed, however, that genius and mystery are sometimes discovered in a cracked pot.
I first heard of the Plain of Jars during the US-Vietnam War in the 1960s and 1970s. The United States had showered Laos with more missiles than it had dumped on Germany and Japan combined during World War II. The Xieng Khouang Province was one of the most heavily bombed targets in history. According to conservative estimates, approximately five hundred thousand tons of bombs were dropped in this area during the Pathet Lao offensive to cut off the movement of Communist North Vietnamese troops under the command of Ho Chi Minh. Many of the bombs didn’t explode and still present a problem today, more than forty years since the end of the war. The risk from unexploded bombs is so great that tourists must stay on designated paths when sightseeing in this area.
Never did I dream that one day I would actually get to visit the Plain of Jars, which are located on the high-mountain plateaus in Laos. I had been asked to perform needs assessments for several Lao hospitals in the area that had requested donated medical goods from Project C.U.R.E. Just outside the city of Xieng Khouang was located one of the ancient sites where the mysterious hand-carved stone vessels still remained.
These massive jars measure up to nine feet in height, and the largest jars weigh around fourteen tons. Carved from sandstone, granite, or other types of stone, some jars are round and others are angular. All are thought to have been hand chiseled between 500 BC and AD 800 and presumably transported from a distant rock quarry to the present site.
The site reminded me of standing out in the countryside in England and trying to figure out why the massive rocks of Stonehenge were balanced as they were. Who carved the massive stone jars on this plain in Laos? How were they used? How were they transported? What civilization placed them on this plain? What happened to some of the lids that used to cover them? Did they bury people in the jars? Did they store water in them? There were thousands of the megalithic vessels around the Xieng Khouang area, but no conclusive answers to the questions about them.
Traditional Lao legends tell the story of a race of giants ruled by a king called Khun Jeuam. The king fought long and valiantly against an enemy, and after gaining the victory, he supposedly created the jars to brew and store huge amounts of rice wine for celebration.
According to another local legend, the jars were molded from natural materials such as clay, sand, or animal products rather than carved from stone. Many Lao people believe that a nearby cave was actually used as a pottery kiln. Other legends claim that the jars collected rainwater for caravan travelers to use when water wasn’t available.
In the 1930s, French archaeologist Madeleine Colani excavated the site and concluded that the stone jars were likely used in prehistoric times as funeral urns. Colani also discovered bronze and iron tools around the jars, as well as bracelets and other artifacts that could have been burial objects. Since that time, archaeologists have discovered evidence of human remains, which would seem to validate Colani’s theory. A nearby limestone cave is thought to have been used as a crematorium, and two man-made holes on top may have served as chimneys. Archaeological evidence seems to support this theory as well.
Based on the archaeological evidence, it’s entirely possible that the Plain of Jars was an ancient burial site. Artifacts found both inside and outside the cave—including broken pottery, iron and bronze objects, glass beads, bone fragments, and burnt teeth—suggest that this is the most likely explanation. Another use for the urns may have been for distilling corpses before cremation. In modern times, corpses of Thai, Cambodian, and Lao royalty are initially placed in urns, where their spirits gradually transition to the afterlife before the bodies are cremated and buried.
While exploring the megalithic archaeological landscape in Laos, I kept wondering what I could learn about empty jars and cracked pots. One thing I did know was that there certainly was a lot of confusion about the mission and message of the ancient traditions and practices. It was muddled and hidden enough that no one could really be certain now, even though it was incredibly important to the folks involved back then.
I concluded that the genius to be discovered is that compassion isn’t a megalithic jar to be filled but a fire to be kindled. When that fire is ignited, and its energy and warmth are focused on a needy place like Laos or Cambodia, the white-hot flame will be extended not just into the years ahead but into eternity as well.
Project C.U.R.E. volunteers, who spend their energies passionately collecting, sorting, warehousing, and distributing medical goods to bring health and hope to people around the world, are indeed messengers. They are human vessels with a message that won’t be forgotten. The collective vessel is filled with the pulsing heartbeat of more than fifteen thousand individuals who compassionately love and care for others.
Hope can do exceeding good for the vessel in which it’s stored,
then multiply that goodness whereever it is freely poured.