The Crucifixion
Jesus, my gentle Jesus,
Walking in the dark of the Garden —
The Garden of Gethsemane,
Saving to the three disciples:
Sorrow is in my soul —
Even unto death;
Tarry ye here a little while,
And watch with me.
Jesus, my burdened Jesus,
Praying in the dark of the Garden —
The Garden of Gethsemane.
Saying: Father,
Oh, Father,
This bitter cup,
This bitter cup,
Let it pass from me.
Jesus, my sorrowing Jesus,
The sweat like drops of blood upon his brow,
Talking with his Father,
While the three disciples slept,
Saying: Father,
Oh, Father,
Not as I will,
Not as I will,
But let thy will be done.
Oh, look at black-hearted Judas —
Sneaking through the dark of the Garden —
Leading his crucifying mob,
Oh, God!
Strike him down!
Why don't you strike him down,
Before he plants his traitor's kiss
Upon my Jesus' cheek?
And they take my blameless Jesus,
And they drag him to the Governor,
To the mighty Roman Governor.
Great Pilate seated in his hall, —
Great Pilate on his judgment seat,
Said: In this man I find no fault.
I find no fault in him.
And Pilate washed his hands.
But they cried out, saying:
Crucify him! —
Crucify him! —
Crucify him! —
His blood be on our heads,
And they beat my loving Jesus,
They spit on my precious Jesus;
They dressed him up in a purple robe,
They put a crown of thorns upon his head,
And they pressed it down —
Oh, they pressed it down —
And they mocked my sweet King Jesus.
Up Golgotha's rugged road
I see my Jesus go.
I see him sink beneath the load,
I see my drooping Jesus sink.
And then they laid hold on Simon,
Black Simon, yes, black Simon;
They put the cross on Simon,
And Simon bore the cross.
On Calvary, on Calvary,
They crucified my Jesus.
They nailed him to the cruel tree,
And the hammer!
The hammer!
The hammer!
Rang through Jerusalem's streets.
The hammer!
The hammer!
The hammer!
Rang through jerusalem's streets.
Jesus, my lamb-like Jesus,
Shivering as the nails go through his hands;
Jesus, my lamb-like Jesus,
Shivering as the nails go through his feet.
Jesus, my darling Jesus,
Groaning as the Roman spear plunged in his side;
Jesus, my darling Jesus,
Groaning as the blood came spurting from his wound.
Oh, look how they done my Jesus.
Mary,
Weeping Mary,
Sees her poor little Jesus on the cross.
Mary,
Weeping Mary,
Sees her sweet, baby Jesus on the cruel cross,
Hanging between two thieves.
And Jesus, my lonesome Jesus,
Called out once more to his Father,
Saying:
My God,
My God,
Why hast thou forsaken me?
And he drooped his head and died.
And the veil of the temple was split in two,
The midday sun refused to shine,
The thunder rumbled and the lightning wrote
An unknown language in the sky.
What a day! Lord, what a day!
When my blessed Jesus died.
Oh, I tremble, yes, I tremble,
It causes me to tremble, tremble,
When I think how Jesus died;
Died on the steeps of Calvary,
How Jesus died for sinners,
Sinners like you and me.
Walking in the dark of the Garden —
The Garden of Gethsemane,
Saving to the three disciples:
Sorrow is in my soul —
Even unto death;
Tarry ye here a little while,
And watch with me.
Jesus, my burdened Jesus,
Praying in the dark of the Garden —
The Garden of Gethsemane.
Saying: Father,
Oh, Father,
This bitter cup,
This bitter cup,
Let it pass from me.
Jesus, my sorrowing Jesus,
The sweat like drops of blood upon his brow,
Talking with his Father,
While the three disciples slept,
Saying: Father,
Oh, Father,
Not as I will,
Not as I will,
But let thy will be done.
Oh, look at black-hearted Judas —
Sneaking through the dark of the Garden —
Leading his crucifying mob,
Oh, God!
Strike him down!
Why don't you strike him down,
Before he plants his traitor's kiss
Upon my Jesus' cheek?
And they take my blameless Jesus,
And they drag him to the Governor,
To the mighty Roman Governor.
Great Pilate seated in his hall, —
Great Pilate on his judgment seat,
Said: In this man I find no fault.
I find no fault in him.
And Pilate washed his hands.
But they cried out, saying:
Crucify him! —
Crucify him! —
Crucify him! —
His blood be on our heads,
And they beat my loving Jesus,
They spit on my precious Jesus;
They dressed him up in a purple robe,
They put a crown of thorns upon his head,
And they pressed it down —
Oh, they pressed it down —
And they mocked my sweet King Jesus.
Up Golgotha's rugged road
I see my Jesus go.
I see him sink beneath the load,
I see my drooping Jesus sink.
And then they laid hold on Simon,
Black Simon, yes, black Simon;
They put the cross on Simon,
And Simon bore the cross.
On Calvary, on Calvary,
They crucified my Jesus.
They nailed him to the cruel tree,
And the hammer!
The hammer!
The hammer!
Rang through Jerusalem's streets.
The hammer!
The hammer!
The hammer!
Rang through jerusalem's streets.
Jesus, my lamb-like Jesus,
Shivering as the nails go through his hands;
Jesus, my lamb-like Jesus,
Shivering as the nails go through his feet.
Jesus, my darling Jesus,
Groaning as the Roman spear plunged in his side;
Jesus, my darling Jesus,
Groaning as the blood came spurting from his wound.
Oh, look how they done my Jesus.
Mary,
Weeping Mary,
Sees her poor little Jesus on the cross.
Mary,
Weeping Mary,
Sees her sweet, baby Jesus on the cruel cross,
Hanging between two thieves.
And Jesus, my lonesome Jesus,
Called out once more to his Father,
Saying:
My God,
My God,
Why hast thou forsaken me?
And he drooped his head and died.
And the veil of the temple was split in two,
The midday sun refused to shine,
The thunder rumbled and the lightning wrote
An unknown language in the sky.
What a day! Lord, what a day!
When my blessed Jesus died.
Oh, I tremble, yes, I tremble,
It causes me to tremble, tremble,
When I think how Jesus died;
Died on the steeps of Calvary,
How Jesus died for sinners,
Sinners like you and me.
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A Poignant Journey Through
A Poignant Journey Through the Crucifixion: "The Crucifixion" by James Weldon Johnson
In James Weldon Johnson's powerful poem "The Crucifixion," the reader is transported to the harrowing scene of Jesus Christ's final hours, experiencing the anguish and sorrow of those who witnessed the ultimate sacrifice. Through vivid imagery and emotive language, Johnson captures the depth of emotion surrounding Jesus' betrayal, trial, and crucifixion, inviting readers to contemplate the profound significance of this pivotal moment in Christian theology.
The poem opens with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, grappling with the weight of his impending suffering. He confides in his disciples, expressing the depth of his sorrow and pleading with his Father to spare him from the bitter cup of agony that awaits. Despite his anguish, Jesus submits to the divine will, uttering the poignant words, "Not as I will, but let thy will be done."
Johnson's portrayal of Judas, the traitor, adds a sinister dimension to the narrative. Judas's betrayal is depicted as a cowardly act, as he leads the mob to arrest Jesus with a kiss of deceit. The poet's visceral reaction to Judas's treachery reflects the intense emotional investment in Jesus' plight, as he implores God to intervene before the betrayal is consummated.
As Jesus faces trial before Pilate, the injustice of his persecution becomes painfully apparent. Despite Pilate's acknowledgment of Jesus' innocence, the crowd's clamor for his crucifixion grows louder. The poet's repetition of the crowd's demands—"Crucify him! Crucify him!"—underscores the sense of collective guilt and moral responsibility for Jesus' fate.
The crucifixion itself is described with vivid detail, evoking a visceral response from the reader. Jesus' suffering is depicted with empathy and reverence, as he is nailed to the cross and pierced by the Roman spear. Mary's grief, as she witnesses her son's agony, adds a poignant layer of sorrow to the narrative, emphasizing the human cost of Jesus' sacrifice.
Johnson's portrayal of Jesus as "my lamb-like Jesus" imbues the poem with a sense of intimacy and tenderness, highlighting the profound love and compassion inherent in Jesus' sacrifice. The poet's use of repetition—"The hammer! The hammer! The hammer!"—echoes the relentless brutality of Jesus' crucifixion, intensifying the emotional impact of the scene.
The poem concludes with Jesus' final cry of anguish—"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"—as he surrenders his spirit into the hands of his Father. The ensuing darkness and tumultuous natural phenomena serve as a powerful testament to the cosmic significance of Jesus' death, signaling the momentousness of this event in the divine plan of redemption.
In "The Crucifixion," James Weldon Johnson offers a poignant meditation on the central tenet of Christian faith—the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ for the salvation of humanity. Through vivid imagery, emotive language, and profound theological insight, Johnson invites readers to contemplate the profound mystery of redemption and the transformative power of divine love.
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