Skip to content

Death And Burial Of Jesus

Posted in SACRED TRIDUUM

Last updated on December 6, 2020

…”Now it is finished.” Then he bowed his head and delivered over his spirit.  (John 19: 30)

 

Jesus is crucified. Painting Anton Van Dyck. Image by Renata Sedmakova
Crucifixion of Christ

What Source of Love

by Rod Minns, Good Friday, 2019

 

What source of love is this

who’s will it was

to crush his Son with pain?

From what spring does flow

a love desiring such a thing unknown

His beloved Son to be condemned

and mocked, and crucified?

 

Who is this Son

While in the garden cries alone

returns a love from anguished heart

“Not my will but yours be done.”

 

With a kiss is then betrayed

and seized and taken away.

Behold such love

in silence no resistance makes

to jeering crowds and soldier’s scoff.

 

Is it not I gone astray

whose sins like scarlet darkens day

be nailed to bleed upon the cross?

 

This source of unimagined love instead

takes upon himself my grievous faults

and casts them to a raging sea

the while forgiving to his final breath.

 

With contrite heart and tearful eye

I kneel before such love

and will forever drink

the fountain of His Precious Blood.

 

 

BURIAL

burial of Jesus painting by Joseph Janssens
burial preparation                                                                        Joseph Janssens

 

They took Jesus’ body, and in accordance with Jewish burial custom bound it up in wrappings of cloth and perfumed oils. In the place where he had been crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had ever been buried.  Because of the Jewish Preparation Day they buried Jesus there, for the tomb was close at hand. (John 19: 40-42)

 

What a Sea of Bitter Sorrow

by Charles Gounod

 

What a sea of bitter sorrow,

Did the soul of Mary toss,

To and fro upon its billows,

While she wept her bitter loss;

In her arms her Jesus holding,

Torn but newly from the Cross.

 

O that mournful Virgin Mother;

See her tears how fast they flow

Down upon his mangled body,

Wounded side and thorny brow;

while his hands and feet she kisses

Picture of immortal woe.

 

Gentle Mother, we beseech thee,

By the tears and anguish sore,

By the death of thy dear Offspring,

By the bleeding wounds he bore;

Touch our hearts with that true sorrow

Which afflicted thee of yore.

 

 

 

Rod Minns
Latest posts by Rod Minns (see all)