Attempting to explain the beginning of the liturgical year means there is only one place to begin, creation itself.
There is no creature or object that exists without creation. And as such, all things have a beginning.
For creation, the beginning and fount of existence is the creationary will and eternally-loving presence of God.
This takes a more tangible role when discussing the liturgical calendar.
Christ, through his salvific incarnation, death and resurrection, redeemed humanity, allowing for his bride, the church, to celebrate her redemption through him.
The liturgical calendar is not a re-living of the events of the fulfilment of the plan of salvation, for they occurred ‘ephapax’, once and for all.
The goal of the liturgical calendar and the feasts celebrated is one of ‘anamnasis’, one of commemoration.
It is not a simple commemoration of a series of events, but of the event, Christ himself, the Alpha and Omega, he who is eternally present.
The liturgical calendar, so to speak, gives us a snapshot of the past, present and future of the plan of salvation; the past being the Old Testament awaiting, the present being the messianic age that we live in and the future being the eschatological fulfilment of time and the coming of the promised kingdom, the return of the groom and the eternal wedding feast.
It is essentially a celebration of the triumph of the one true feast, the Paschal mystery. Through participation in the various liturgies, the faithful are formed into holy temples for the Lord, dwelling places of the Holy Spirit.
We are called into the life of Christ, travelling with him through birth, death, burial, resurrection and ascension.
It is fitting, then, to begin the liturgical year with the consecration of the church. Consecration means to put aside, to take for one’s self.
Whenever something is consecrated, its sole purpose becomes for the Glory of God.
In the Old Testament reading (Isaiah 54), we read of the Lord being husband, reconsecrating a marriage through love.
No matter what the bride does, the husband’s mercy and love will always be there.
We’re introduced to the theme of bride (a redeemed unfaithful bride), something repeated throughout the prophetic books of the Old Testament. No matter how unfaithful we might be as members of the church, the bride of Christ, he remains faithful to us, loving to the end.
The letter to the Hebrews talks about the tent consecrated as the dwelling place of the Lord in the Old Testament through blood sacrifices.
It is the tabernacle, the place of ‘Shekinah’, the dwelling of divine presence. Yet, Christ being the high priest, enters into a new tent, a new Holy of Holies through his own blood, obtaining eternal redemption.
The Gospel reading from Matthew 16:13-20 is Peter’s declaration about Jesus and his response. ‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church’.
‘My church’, something consecrated to and for the Lord, his bride spoken of in Isiah and consecrated not with the blood and ashes of animals and burnt offerings as mentioned in the letter, but through his own blood.
Is the consecrated church simply the bricks and mortar we sit in? Or is it every single one of us, formed into temples of the Lord? If that’s the case, the consecration of the church is effectively the re-creation of creation itself.
It is the heralding of the preparation of the bride. And how fitting is it that we end the year with a focus on the four last things – death, judgement, Heaven and Hell, the fulfilment of eschatology and the awaiting of the return of the groom.
Why is this fitting? Through the consecration of the church, the bride continually reminds herself of who she belongs to, of who she was set aside for and for what she awaits.
The Sunday of the Consecration of the Church is a reminder of the marriage vows, the price Christ paid for his bride, the price Christ paid for the redemption and liberation of every single one of us.
Let us begin our journey through the liturgical year with this in mind and remind ourselves to who we belong; a loving God, a merciful God, one who calls us and saves us.
But most importantly, one who comes to us and makes his dwelling place between us, calling us to a most intimate union with himself.
Fr Abboud is a monk of the Lebanese Maronite Order who serves at St Charbel’s Monastery, parish and college in Punchbowl, NSW.
