On Good Friday, violet does not suffice for her moaning: she covers herself with vestments of black.
But, behold, suddenly, on Saturday morning, while the Christ is still in the tomb, she seems to forget her mourning. The aspect of grief of the eve is gone. See the deacon after the blessing of the new fire. He comes forward, wearing the white dalmatic, the garb of joy, with a triangular candle in his hand, the image of the Trinity, and sings three times, "Lumen Christi"—a triple proclamation of the divinity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. He then goes towards the Paschal Candle.
Why, then, these emblems of joy in presence of this torch? What are the memories it brings to the heart of the Spouse thus to make gladness take the place of grief? Let us ask the author of the blessing of the Paschal Candle, St. Ambrose, for the explanation of this mysterious symbol. Let us question, too, the faith of the Middle Ages. Let us listen to the symbolic language so familiar to our fathers, and with which we are so little acquainted. Perhaps, even, we have sometimes surprised a smile on our lips at the sight of that candle, and of certain other exterior practices of worship, whose significance we did not understand; for, in our days, how great, generally, is the ignorance of the faithful in the matter of liturgy and symbolism. Now, we see how magnificent is the meaning of that ceremony of the blessing of the Paschal Candle which was extended by St. Zozimus in the middle of the fifth century to the other churches of the city of Rome, although baptism was conferred only at the baptistery of Lutran, and later on by other popes to all the churches, even to those which have no baptismal fonts: so holy and salutary did the sovereign pontiffs consider the impressions which this great rite should produce.
In this candle, superior in weight and in size to the candles which are generally lighted on other solemnities, in this unique candle, the princes of liturgy show us the image of Jesus Christ, a precious symbol which is impressed on it by the virtue of the blessing.
This blessing is reserved for the deacon. To him belongs this prerogative when the priest, and even when the bishop is present. This is because the deacon represents on this occasion the holy women, who, notwithstanding the inferiority of their sex, were commissioned by the Saviour to announce His resurrection to His Apostles, and that, by a disposition of Providence, woman, in the first days of the world, sent by the demon to man, brought him death; woman was to be sent by the risen Christ to man to proclaim life to him. The Apostles were still in tears, when, in transports of gladness, Mary Magdalene and her companions announced to them the mystery of the resurrection. The priest and the bishop, too, still wear the color of mourning, when, clothed in white, the deacon freely and loudly chants the beautiful prayers of the blessing, and is thus the herald of the resurrection's joys.
In consequence of the deacon's blessing, the candle then becomes the symbol of Christ. "Before it is lighted," says Dom Guéranger, summing up on this point the interpretations of the olden liturgists, "its type is in the pillar of cloud which covered the departure of the Hebrews as they went forth from Egypt; under this first form, it is a figure of Christ in the tomb, inanimate, lifeless. When it will have received the flame, we shall see in it the pillar of fire which gave light to the holy people's feet, and also the figure of Christ, all radiant with the splendors of His resurrection."
This majestic symbolism is demonstrated by the prayers of the blessing. And first those cries of gladness, those outbursts of joy, and that lavishness of praise on the part of the deacon, as he stands before that waxen pillar, we now understand, knowing that He whom the candle represents, the Divine Light, is the one to whom they are addressed.
The deacon begins with a lyric exordium. Let those who understand Latin read in the text itself that magnificent prayer of the Exultet; the translation cannot entirely reproduce its beauties:
"Let now the heavenly troop of angels rejoice; let the divine mysteries be joyfully celebrated, and let the sacred trumpet proclaim the victory of so great a king. Let the earth rejoice, illumined with such resplendent rays, and let the whole world feel that the darkness is driven from it by the splendor of the Eternal King. Let the church, our mother, also rejoice, being adorned by the rays of so great a light, and let this temple resound with the joyful acclamations of the people. Wherefore, most beloved brethren, who are now present at the admirable brightness of this holy light, I beseech you to invoke with me the mercy of the Almighty God. That He, who hath been pleased without merit of mine, to admit me into the number of the Levites will, by an infusion of His light upon me enable me to celebrate worthily the praise of this taper."
No, this candle would not merit as much praise if it did not represent the Christ. The Son alone, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, is deserving of praise.