B:1st Sun of Advent (29 Nov 2020) - BRITTLE AND EXPENDABLE, YET MALLEABLE (Isa 63:16-17, 19; 64:2-7)

Artifacts made of clay are generally cheap products. In contrast to those made of copper or iron, clay-based products are considered brittle and expendable. With a small amount of force or exposure to heat, they can easily break and become useless. Moreover, considering the abundance of soil everywhere, they are readily expendable when destroyed and there is no value in repairing them as they can immediately be replaced by new ones for a minimal price.

Amidst these pejorative characteristics of clay, the prophet Isaiah used this image to describe humanity: “We are the clay” (Isa 64:7). We are now perplexed as to why mankind is being compared to clay when there are other more precious elements like pearls, gems, or gold.

In the Old Testament, the clay’s attributes of brittleness and expendability are expressed in the use of the Hebrew word homer or the Greek term pēlos. While its brittleness is associable to God’s trampling down of the impious (Mic 7:10; Nah 3:14), it can also be applied to his infliction of suffering to the just as what we read in the slavery of the Hebrews in Egypt (“making life bitter for them with hard labor, at mortar [i.e., wet clay] and brick” in Exo 1:14) or Job’s trials in his sickness and frustration (“You fashioned me from clay! Will you then bring me down to dust again?” in Job 10:9). Furthermore, whereas clay’s expendability is depicted in God’s pronouncement of judgment on the Israelites’ oppressors (2 Sam 22:43), it could also be utilized to allude to his decision of bringing death to anybody (Job 4:19; Sir 33:13-14). The portrait of clay, hence, is employed biblically to emphasize life’s brittleness and expendability, inferring humankind’s lowly status as mere dust of the earth.

Meanwhile, despite this clay’s humble portrait, the Scriptures emphasize, more than anything else, its malleability which makes it practically formable according to the designs of its maker. Accordingly, we find in the second account of creation that man was molded by God out of the ground, albeit using another Hebrew word adamah (Gen 2:7). The prophet Isaiah employed the same malleability of clay to signify its openness to the creative hands of its potter: “Lord, you are our father; we are the clay and you are our potter” (Isa 64:7). What is significant in this pliability of clay is its privileged tactile contact with its molder: It is God’s very hands that are personally shaping it amidst the discomfort and inconvenience of touching filthy mud and dirt.

In the New Testament, the salvific dimension of clay is seen in Jesus’ healing of the blind man. In the Johannine narrative, Jesus cured him as “he spat on the ground and made clay (Greek term pēlos) with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes” (Jn 9:6; also vv. 11, 14-15). This non-essential task of using clay in healing reclaims the creative power of God in Genesis, i.e., a personal God who gives life by engaging himself to the excruciating activity of molding.

In our global pandemic situation nowadays, we can equate clay’s brittleness and expendability to our human lives as millions of us have either died or are suffering because of the corona virus. These lives, sadly, are easily forgotten, reduced to being numbers in the massive daily toll of infections. Meanwhile, we who continue to struggle to survive should not lose hope because we have a God who personally shapes us to his divine plan. But this salvific molding can only happen if we allow ourselves to be clay-like in our humble submission to his will.

Nevertheless, despite our lowly status, we are still precious in his eyes since any priceless gem, gold, or silver are like clay before his wisdom (Wis 7:9). Yes, we are only clay, but we remain in God’s loving and protective hands. We can end up being a beautiful vessel soon.

- Rex Fortes, CM