By: Dan Schute, S.J.
Arr. by: Ron Michael Alquisada
Behold, behold the wood of the cross.
On which is hung our salvation.
O come let us adore.
Unless a grain of wheat shall fall,
Upon the ground and die,
It shall remain but a single grain,
And not give life.
And when my hour of glory come,
As all was meant to be
You shall see me lifted up
Upon a tree.
For there can be no greater love,
Shown upon this land,
Than in the one who came to dieThat we might live.