Jung by Gerhard Wehr

In the cemetery nearby, the sexton would dig a hole-heaps of brown, upturned earth.
Black, solemn men in long frock coats with unusually tall hats and shiny black boots would bring a black box.
My father would be there in his clerical gown, speaking in a resounding voice.
Women wept. I was told that someone was being buried in this hole in the ground.
Certain persons who had been around previously would suddenly no longer be there.
Then I would hear that they had been buried, and that Lord Jesus had taken them to himself. . . .
I began to distrust Lord Jesus. He lost the aspect of a big, comforting, benevolent bird and became associated with the gloomy black men in frock coats, top hats and shiny black boots who busied themselves with the black box.
These ruminations of mine led to my first conscious trauma. Carl Jung, Jung: A Biography, Page 24