The same can be said of everything that is sanctified. There are wonderful prayers that we never hear, because we don't have a chance to do so. For example, there is an amazing prayer for the consecration of a bell. In it we ask God to sanctify this bell so that when it sounds, it will bring to human souls something that will awaken them, we ask that, thanks to this sound, eternal life trembles in them. There is a poem (Koltsov's, I think, but I'm not sure) that I'll try to remember now:

The Late Bell, Sounding

Over the great plain,

Thunder over the sleeping heart,

Over a stagnant soul.

With a long, funeral, all-forgiving farewell ringing

Thunder over the sleeping heart, hopelessly sorrowless!

Maybe it will wake up

And shake off oblivion,

And perhaps he will shudder

For a moment, for a moment...

And when we consecrate a bell, we have this in mind. We ask to give this bell not only a musical sound (it can be created from anything if you know how to do it), but we ask you to let God's blessing fall on this bell so that its sound – simple, like all sounds, it will not sound differently from another bell created without prayer, without the purpose of renewing and reviving souls – so that its sound will reach the human soul and that this soul will wake up. So, you see, it is not only a question of sanctifying matter, waters, oil, bread, wine, and so on, but that everything can be offered to God as a gift from us, accepted by God, and that God pour, include in this substance the Divine transforming power. It seems to me that this is central to our understanding of both Christ and the Incarnation, and the cosmic, that is, universal, all-encompassing meaning of the Incarnation of Christ.