DENVER — Timothy McVeigh was condemned to death Friday for the Oklahoma City bombing, accepting the ultimate punishment without so much as a blink. “It’s OK,” he mouthed to his parents.

U.S. District Judge Richard Matsch’s usually firm voice wavered slightly as he read the jury’s unanimous decision two years and 55 days after the blast that killed 168 people — the deadliest terrorist attack on U.S. soil. Bombing survivors and victims’ relatives gasped, cried onto each other’s shoulders and held hands.

The same jury that convicted McVeigh of murder and conspiracy on June 2 deliberated for more than 11 hours over two days before deciding the 29-year-old decorated Gulf War veteran should die by injection rather than spend the rest of his life in prison.

McVeigh’s father’s shoulders slumped, his sister cried and his mother sat silently, saving her tears until after the court session.

McVeigh sat in the same position as when he was convicted: narrowed eyes on the judge, hands clasped and pressed against his cheek, no movement whatsoever in his expressionless face.

When the judge asked the jurors if they were sure of their verdict, four of them stared straight at McVeigh as they answered “Yes.” McVeigh leaned back in his chair with his hand up to his mouth and watched.

As he was led out of the courtroom, he made a small, two-fingered wave to his parents, mouthed “It’s OK” and then made the same wave to the jury that condemned him, nodding his head up and down.

They stared back blankly.

The jury’s death decision is binding. Matsch said he will impose the actual sentence later this summer, after a July 7 deadline for motions and appeals.

In Oklahoma City, along the fence where the bombed-out federal building once stood, cheers erupted. Church bells tolled on the half-hour as the verdict came in.

“I think Timothy McVeigh needs to prepare himself to meet God. That’s his judge,” said Lyle Cousins, whose wife, Kim, was killed in the blast.

Kathleen Treanor, who lost her 4-year-old daughter and her in-laws, said: “When Timothy McVeigh made the decision to murder, maim and destroy all these people, he gave up the right to be called a human being. Death is obviously what he should have.”

McVeigh’s lawyers had argued that he was a well-meaning but misguided patriot bent on avenging the 1993 government siege at Waco. But, in its verdict, the jury unanimously rejected the assertion that he “believed deeply in the ideals upon which the United States was founded.”

Outside the courthouse, defense attorney Stephen Jones said: “The jury has spoken.”

“Their verdict is entitled to respect and all Americans should accord it that respect until such time if ever it is overturned by a court of competent jurisdiction,” Jones said. “We ask that the barriers and intolerance that have divided us may crumble, that suspicions disappear and that hatreds cease and that our divisions and intolerance being healed, we may live together in justice and peace.”

He ended with the words: “God save the United States of America. God save this honorable court.”

Prosecutor Joseph Hartzler, who had urged jurors to have the courage to sentence McVeigh to death and to ignore the defense’s dark hints of more violence, said the sentencing decision brought no joy to the prosecution.

“We’re pleased that the system worked and that justice prevailed,” he said. “The verdict doesn’t diminish the great sadness that occurred in Oklahoma City two years ago.”

At the White House, President Clinton said: “This investigation and trial have confirmed our country’s faith in its justice system. To the victims and their families, I know that your healing can be measured only one day at a time. The prayers and support of your fellow Americans will be with you every one of those days.”

Most jurors, reached at their homes, refused to discuss the deliberations.

“I’m glad it’s complete,” said juror David Gilger. “I think there’s a sense of closure for everyone.”

Said Tonya Steadman: “I’m really proud of myself and I’m proud of every other juror.”

McVeigh’s fate now rests with the appellate court, while co-defendant Terry Nichols is expected to go on trial later this year on the same charges.

Appeals could take three years or more. Also, the U.S. Supreme Court has never ruled on the constitutionality of the 1994 death penalty statute under which McVeigh was tried. He also faces state murder charges in Oklahoma that carry the death penalty.

In weighing McVeigh’s fate, jurors were confronted with two different pictures of him: well-meaning, though tragically wrong-minded patriot, or cruel and cowardly traitor.

McVeigh himself never spoke to the jury, although his parents pleaded with jurors to spare his life, describing their son as a friendly, intelligent boy who cared about others.

In the prosecution’s death-penalty case, jurors were brought to tears by the horrifying stories of survivors and victims’ relatives, who described how their lives were torn apart by the April 19, 1995, bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building.

Mothers and fathers spoke of children violently ripped from their lives. Rescuers told of having nightmares about the victims they couldn’t save. A doctor told of how he amputated a woman’s leg with a dirty pocket knife.

The prosecution called 38 witnesses to make the case, as prosecutor Beth Wilkinson said, that the slaughter was “the crime that the death penalty was designed for.”

She urged jurors to “look into the eyes of a coward” and muster the courage to sentence him to die for a crime that killed more people than the total number of Americans who died in combat in the Persian Gulf.

The defense called 27 witnesses, many McVeigh’s Army comrades, to show that McVeigh was a Bronze Star-winning soldier, a good friend and happy teen-ager until his life changed after the war.

Defense lawyers conceded McVeigh’s involvement in the bombing but said letting him live might provide answers to “the rest of the story” about the blast.

McVeigh’s lawyers said he developed a deep concern about the abuse of U.S. government power. The seed that grew into the blast, they said, was planted at Waco.

They also hinted that executing McVeigh could cause more bloodshed, with Jones asking jurors “to make the first step to restore domestic tranquility.”

Outside court, prosecutor Pat Ryan confronted that issue, directing a message to people in what he called the right-wing “patriot community.”

“I hope that what was said about them in this courtroom was wrong,” he said. “I don’t think there are people out there who believe the way this defendant believes.”