Category Archives: Books by David Kitz

A Recent Review

14 Thursday Nov 2019

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Earlier this week, I came upon this review of my Biblical novel on the website Christianbook.com.

The Soldier Who Killed a King by David Kitz is an amazing fictional recounting of the passion of Christ as seen through the eyes of a centurion. I’ve had the book for quite a while and now having finished it, regret not reading it sooner so I could share it. What a remarkable book! The author brings a turbulent week in Jerusalem to life with biblical-fiction-award-2017_origcompelling imagery and believable dialogue and action. The rereading of this last week before the crucifixion of Jesus was a moving reminder of what He suffered for me. Readers of Biblical fiction will not want to miss The Soldier Who Killed a King.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from BookFun Club network. A favorable review was not required and opinions are my own.         — Annelr, Brighton, MI

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, Bible-based novel visit:
https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

From a Soldier’s Point of View

12 Tuesday Nov 2019

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I wrote my novel about Christ’s passion from the perspective of the centurion who wasbiblical-fiction-award-2017_orig in charge of the Good Friday crucifixion. Despite this masculine viewpoint, I have been pleased by the positive response from female readers. The following 5-star review was written by Sally Meadows and was posted to Goodreads:

It seems more than fitting that The Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prayed to God and was betrayed on the eve of His crucifixion, is the setting of the climax of “The Soldier Who Killed a King.” Here, the protagonist finally meets the living God in a gut-wrenching, unforgettably powerful way that will change his life forever. David Kitz’s narration draws us, throughout this book, into the complexity and brutality of New Testament times with such incredible detail that we can see, taste, feel, everything the soldier does. An enormously successful retelling of Jesus’s final days from the perspective of the man who was instrumental in Jesus’s death. And how through Jesus’s death, the soldier found true life. 

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases try the author’s website, or Amazon, or https://www.christianbook.com
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Connecting Heaven and Earth

28 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by in Books by David Kitz, Psalms

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Endorsements for Psalms Alive!

“A timely call to stop our mad rush and encounter God in the stillness of prayer and Bible study. David Kitz paints pictures with words, taking lessons from Scripture and nature to offer us a three-dimensional, multi-sensory relationship with God.”

Robert L. Briggs, Executive Vice President, American Bible Society

David writes with a dramatic and compelling flair, enticing us to meet with God and therein find life. His intent to let God’s Word speak through the psalms is accomplished with theological sensitivity to the sitz im leben and creative application to the context of our lives today. Well done, David! Psalms Alive! helped me inhabit the Word and know Him more.

Rev. Dr. Lawson Murray, President — Scripture Union Canada

For further information on the book, visit https://davidkitz.ca/psalms.php.

For information on the direct book purchase from the author, click here.

For purchase from Amazon click here.

For information on a live dramatization of the Psalms visit
https://davidkitz.ca/psalms.php.

There is no liberation like the liberation of full and free forgiveness. — David Kitz 

 

Reading 35 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

11 Thursday Apr 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

Date: Eight in the morning, Saturday, April 8, 30 A.D.
Marcus Longinus, the Roman centurion, on his way to set a guard at the tomb, considers the possibility of Jesus rising from the dead.

On the surface I protested being drawn into this, the high priest’s plan of preemptive precaution, but within me, I was filled with dark apprehension. These measures had merit. This guarding of the tomb might well be warranted.
I did not fear his disciples. There had been no sign of them, no sign of armed uprising. No, it was the prophet himself that I feared.
This notion of him rising from the dead did not strike me as all that far fetched. On the surface the Christ’s prediction seemed impossible— utterly impossible—totally preposterous. But then in life he had been a total master of the impossible. The example of the blind Bartimaeus sprang to mind. This Messiah had tossed off miracles like he was tossing off the covers from his bed. Could he now toss off the shroud of death?
There was something far larger at work here. This was more than the raving of a lunatic. Why else would the sun refuse to shine as he hung dying? Why else would the earth shudder with his last breath? No, he was the Son of God. My very own words came back to haunt me. Anything was possible; nothing could be ruled out!
I remembered the worried look I saw on Pilate’s face just this morning, when Annas had raised this matter. Without saying a word I knew we both were of the same mind on this. He too thought a resurrection could occur. Why else his prompt response?

This was more than the raving of a lunatic. Why else would the sun refuse to shine as he hung dying? Why else would the earth shudder with his last breath? No, he was the Son of God.

 

Oh yes, and then there was the rubbing of the hands. Guilt stains are not so easily removed. I should know. After all these years the blond-haired girl still visits me quite regularly on those soul- tormenting nights.
Only the high priest’s men seemed sure of themselves, cocky in their victory, but not cocky enough to throw all caution to the wind. Why else post a guard? But winds can change, and all this might yet blow up in their faces.
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To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

Reading 6 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

11 Monday Mar 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

In today’s reading, Marcus Longinus the centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, joins the throng of Jesus followers as enters the temple courts. It is the morning of the second day of Passover Week.

There were more of this prophet’s followers awaiting his arrival within the temple grounds. Our numbers may have swelled to well over a thousand at this point. Keeping him in view from within this multitude of craning necks was a challenge.
We poured into the Court of the Gentiles, with Jesus taking the lead. It quickly became clear that he did not like what he found there. 4485 SHARABLE-1
This whole area had been converted into a market for the duration of the Passover celebration. There were currency exchange tables, caged fowl available for sacrifice, and goods of various and sundry quality arranged for the pilgrims’ perusal.
I could well imagine the eager anticipation among the merchants with the arrival of such a large crowd. But this prophet had no intention of leading a shopping expedition.
With a loud, anger-edged voice, he declared for all to hear, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you”—his hand slashed through the air to encompass the assembled entrepreneurs—“have made it a ‘den of thieves’!”
Then seizing the nearest table, he sent it, and all that was upon it, clattering onto the paving stones. The prophet swung around, and without stopping to admire the havoc he had caused, he grabbed a money changer’s table, and with one quick move he sent a thousand coins rolling in every direction. The next banker’s hoard met with the same fate.
Pandemonium and panic now fully broke loose.
Benches stacked eight feet high with dove cages were next in line. Cages toppled. Birds flapped. Feathers flew. Within moments scores of birds had been released by the prophet’s followers.
Frightened merchants rushed for the exits, clutching all that their arms could hastily gather. Within short minutes the entire Gentile court had been cleared of both buyers and sellers.
The transformation was astonishing, the effect upon his followers electrifying. They were in his hands. They loved the sheer power of the moment. With single- handed raw courage he had swept aside the outward clutter of both wealth and religious tradition.
I was impressed. The man had convictions and would act on them.
Timid temple guards skittered about the perimeter of the courtyard, dumbfounded by what they had witnessed, yet fully knowing they were powerless to act before the prophet’s adoring throng. This was a coup. In just moments they had lost control—lost it to the leader of a Galilean mob. Explaining this would not be easy.
The crowd pressed in closer, sensing Jesus was about to speak. “My house,” he said, and he gestured to the marble floors and columns that surrounded him. “My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations. This is why there is a temple. This is why I have come . . . that we might draw near.”

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or https://www.christianbook.com

Reading 5 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

10 Sunday Mar 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

In today’s reading, Marcus Longinus the centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, is waiting by the city gate for the arrival of Jesus. It is the morning of the second day of Passover Week.

Then someone ahead of me pointed and yelled, “That’s him! He’s coming!”
Necks craned. I raised my hand to shade my eyes. Just over the brow of the hill, a figure in white rabbinical robes was beginning his descent into the Kidron Valley. It soon became apparent he was not alone. A clutch of young bearded men surrounded him, and trailing behind was an assortment of wives, children, and barking dogs of both types, canine and human. The whole entourage may have numbered a hundred twenty. There was no donkey today and, to my relief, no thronging thousands. I’m sure there was a collective sigh of relief above the gate as well.
The near-giddy anticipation of these spectators was something I had not expected. I wasFree WWe SHARABLE-1 (2) surprised to find myself caught up in it. The front edges of the crowd by the wall surged forward to line the roadside. Meanwhile, others continued to pour through the gate.
The man to my left stepped forward, planting his foot on my toes. I grunted in pain and instinctively pushed my thumb and knuckles into his ribs. This brought the desired relief, and the man turned to face me. It was the man with the boy on his shoulders.
“My toes!” I gestured.
“Sorry, my friend.”
I felt slightly embarrassed by the gruffness of my response. “You’re waiting to see Jesus,” I offered, stating the obvious.
“Yeah. The kids are crazy about him.” He nodded in the direction of the brood to my right. “It’s all they talked about since we came yesterday.”
I could tell from his accent that he was from Galilee, so I continued. “Do you know much about him? See, I’m a Passover pilgrim from Alexandria in Egypt. All I know is what I saw yesterday.”
“That was incredible!” he enthused. “Did you see him come in on the donkey? That’s fulfillment of a prophecy.”
Then he took on a more distant, thoughtful look, and he began to quote. “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!” And now his eyes brightened. “See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious.” He slowed for emphasis, and with his free hand stabbed the air. “Lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
It always amazed me how these people memorized their Scriptures. “So, do you think he’s”—I hesitated—“the Christ?”
“Shh!” He gestured with a finger to his lips and a glance to the wall. “Or the stones will hear.”
He continued. “There is no one like him. He drives out demons. He heals the sick. Even the dead have been raised. And yesterday”—his voice raced with excitement— “yesterday I saw this with my own eyes. He healed a man born blind.”
Seeing my interest, he pressed on.
“In the morning, we were leaving Jericho, the whole throng from Galilee, and by the side of the road was this blind beggar. He was yelling, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Jesus stopped and touched the man’s eyes.”
He made as though he would touch my eyes.
“And he was healed!” His own bright eyes beamed at me as he smiled broadly. The boy on his shoulders also joined in his father’s enthusiasm as for the first time he smiled down at me.
We began to reposition ourselves, for the object of our conversation was now drawing near.
He nudged my shoulder. “And when he speaks, it’s like God is talking to me. None of the rabbis speak like him. It’s like he has seen heaven and heard the voice of the Holy One.” A girl in her teens near the front edge of the crowd shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”
Soon others joined in. The masses surged around him, and together we squeezed through the Messiah Gate and pressed on toward the temple.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or https://www.christianbook.com

Reading 4 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

09 Saturday Mar 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

In today’s reading, Marcus the centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, is in a discussion about Jesus with Timaeus, a linen merchant from Damascus.

“As for this Jesus of Nazareth?” He shrugged. “I know only a little more than you. My brother here in Jerusalem knew nothing about him. Had never heard the name. But I heard of him once, about a year ago, in Damascus.”
“In Damascus?”
“Yes. I’m in the linen trade.” He put his hand to an elaborately embroidered sleeveBiblical fiction winner 2017 and stroked the pattern. “We supply market stalls in Galilee. One of our sellers there told me of this prophet. He had seen him in Galilee.”
“So what did he say about him?”
“Actually, he told me quite a lot, but I don’t know how much I can believe. He said this Jesus worked miracles.”
“Miracles? What do you mean, miracles?”
“He said Jesus drove out demons, healed the sick. He told me about this one time he went out to hear this prophet, if that’s what he is. Jesus was on this hillside. Thousands had come to hear him speak. Matthias—that’s the man’s name—he said he had never heard anyone speak like him. ‘It was like heaven was talking.’ He kept saying that. ‘It was like heaven was talking.’”
Timaeus spread his arms heavenward in mock imitation. “Poor Matthias!” He shook his head.
“So was that the miracle? The way he talked?”
“No, no. It’s not that, though Matthias kept going on about ‘the kingdom of God.’ Whatever that is. I suppose he got that from this Jesus. Anyway, after they had been there all day—he said there were more than five thousand people—this prophet told them all to sit down in groups of fifty or a hundred. Then he prayed and started breaking bread. He fed that whole crowd. Every last one of them.”
“What’s so miraculous about that?”
“Matthias said he only had five loaves and two fish when he started. He was watching him, and Jesus just kept on breaking bread until the whole crowd was fed. Five thousand people.”
“Five thousand people?”
“More than five thousand people.” He shrugged incredulously. “Look, I wasn’t there. I’m just repeating this fool’s story. Matthias kept saying, ‘It was like he was giving himself to us! Like it came from inside him!’”
Now I was incredulous. I paused in my walk and asked, “What did he mean by that?”
“I swear by the altar, I have no idea.”
“So what do you make of this Matthias and his story?”
“Matthias? He’s a nutcase. And he’s from a fine family in Capernaum.” He frowned, shaking his head. “I know them well. It’s hard to believe he’d get into something like this. He’s following this prophet around the country. It’s all he talks about. He was probably up some tree yesterday breaking off palm branches.” He spat out the words in utter disgust.
“And Jesus of Nazareth?” He raised a stout index finger and waved it in my face. “There’s the real nutcase! There’s no nut like a religious nut! And this kingdom of God talk. It’ll end in disaster.”
He glanced about to see if other ears were listening.
I continued in a more hushed voice. “How do you mean? Do you think the Romans will get involved?”
“Look, I’m no prophet, but by the throne I swear.” He looked me square in the eyes. “You don’t preach about a kingdom in this place and get away with it. Rome will see to that!”
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To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or https://www.christianbook.com

Reading 3 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

08 Friday Mar 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

In today’s reading, Marcus the centurion, meets with his fellow centurion, Renaldo, to discuss their response to what they see as the threat of a Jewish uprising led by a messianic prophet from Galilee.

“We have to do something. This Jewish prophet is too dangerous.”
“That’s why I came over. I have a plan. It came to me last night.”
“What about Flavio?” Renaldo resumed stroking Keeper. The dog’s silky ears twitched beneath his gentle hand.

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Roman centurion — Andrew Nicholls

“Forget Flavio. He’ll be drunk for the rest of the week. Herod’s coming down about midweek. There’ll be a big wine- swilling bash for the upper crust. He’ll sober up just long enough so he can bow and scrape for Pilate at the right moment. Forget him. We have to save our own hides.”
“All right. So what’s this plan?”
“It’s not some great master scheme, but I do have a few ideas.”
“Yes, get on with it,” he said with obvious interest.
“Well, the way I see it, we have way too little information about whatever is going on here. If there’s some Passover plot being hatched, we need to be the first to know about it. Not like yesterday. I don’t like surprises. Especially Jewish Messiah surprises.”
Renaldo scowled in agreement. “So why the trunk?” he asked.
I had set it down after our greeting, and now it was Keeper, sniffing about it, that brought it to Renaldo’s attention.
“This is one way I can get some information.”
I opened the trunk and pulled out several items of clothing, among them a Jewish prayer shawl and several phylacteries. Holding one of the fringed garments to myself, I announced, “Today I am Benjamin. Benjamin from Alexandria, and I’ve come to celebrate the Passover here, in the holy city, Jerusalem.”
All this was done with a thick Aramaic accent and a mock reverence that left Renaldo slapping his thigh in laughter.
“Marcus, Marcus! Only you could pull this off!” Then he added in a more thoughtful tone, “I could look in on some of our usual sources. They’re bound to know a thing or two about this donkey man.”
“Now you’re thinking.” With a glance to the eastern sky, I added, “Look, we don’t have much time. The sun’s almost up. All my men know their assigned duties, so if you could just look in on them at the barracks, that would be great. I should be back in uniform by noon, and I could meet you there to discuss what we’ve found.”
“No problem . . . Benjamin!” he said, shaking his head and grinning, no doubt contemplating the sight of me in religious garb.
I began to place the clothing back in the trunk, and then I turned to my friend. “Oh,Soldier book by the way, Renaldo, could you check in on Claudius at the Golden Gate? I expect our visiting prophet will be coming back into town by the same way today. Claudius might need a hand.”
“No problem, Marcus.” And then he added in a more serious tone, “Now, you be careful.”
“Yes, well,” I said, sighing, “I think we’ve all got to be careful.”
I swung the trunk up under my arm. With a quick wave of my free hand, I said, “I’m off for an appointment with Jesus of Nazareth.”
To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or https://www.christianbook.com

Reading 2 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

07 Thursday Mar 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

Soldier bookI could see him clearly now. Donkey or not, he had the look of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Those about him might not know or understand, but he knew. He had a destination in mind, a purpose. You could see it on his face.
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
There was something else different about him. At the time I didn’t know what it was. I couldn’t put it into words for a long time. I think I noticed it because I had watched all those other men come into Rome in their triumphal processionals. They were conquerors, but still they were hollow men, feeding off the adulation of the crowd, thirsting but never satisfied. You could see them vainly drink it in, hoping it would somehow fill the empty soul.
This donkey-riding king wasn’t drinking from the crowd. I somehow sensed he was full already, and what he had within must have come from a different source.
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
Just at that moment a strange feeling seemed to rise within me. Maybe it was the joy of the crowd. I had expected anger. Maybe it was the children waving palm branches or the spontaneity of the singing? I don’t know. For one moment it all seemed to come together. It seemed right somehow. Like heaven and earth had finally, for a moment, come into agreement—an agreement that had never been achieved before.
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
He was much closer now.
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
He was now within the shadow of the gate.
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
At that moment he looked up. For an instant our eyes met. Then I heard a voice—clearly heard a voice say, “I have a future for you.”
I was confused.
I turned to Claudius and said, “What did you mean by that?”
“What did I mean by what?” He had a blank look on his face.
“By what you said about—about the future?”
“I didn’t say anything about the future, sir. I didn’t say anything.”4485 SHARABLE-1
I was totally baffled. Was I hearing voices? This whole thing was making no sense, no sense at all. Passover pilgrims weren’t supposed to come into the city this way. We had a revolutionary on the loose—riding a donkey. And now I was hearing things?
I rubbed the sweat from my forehead, hoping for some clarity to emerge.
I had a hundred men whose lives were in danger from this Jewish Messiah and his horde of followers. That was what mattered.
By this time the donkey man had passed under the gate and was heading in the direction of the temple in the heart of the city.
I signaled for Claudius to follow as I raced down the stairs of the gatehouse. I emerged onto the street and grabbed the first two-legged bit of Jewish scum I saw. Pressing him against the stone wall, I demanded, “Who is that man?”
I pointed at the retreating figure on the donkey.
The poor wretch was in shock and seemed quite unable to get out a word.
Claudius reached for his sword.
“Je- Jesus of Nazareth,” he stammered and then quickly added, “the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”
I loosened my grip. Then in a voice loud enough for all near to hear, I announced, “Well, there is one thing I do know. We’re going to have to keep an eye on that man.”

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or https://www.christianbook.com

Ash Wednesday: The Journey Begins

06 Wednesday Mar 2019

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A journey to the cross is a journey to repentance. It’s a journey to deep personal change. Will you take this journey with me?

Four in the afternoon, Sunday, April 2, AD 30
It was never like this before. biblical-fiction-award-2017_orig
I have been posted in Jerusalem for ten years now, but in all that time, I have never seen a Passover crowd like this.
It wasn’t the numbers. I had seen that before.
The Passover pilgrims always come plodding into the city in reverent caravans. Some of them chant psalms. Others are silent, looking bone-weary as they trudge, like fretful herdsmen with children in tow. Undoubtedly, many are relieved that their holy city is finally in view.
But this year it was different. There was this man—at the center of the whole procession. There had never been a central figure before. Every movement within that huge throng seemed focused on him.
Squinting in a futile attempt to get a better view, I gave Claudius a backhanded slap to the shoulder and demanded, “What are they doing?”
“They’re climbing the trees, sir.”
“I can see that!” I snapped. “But what are they doing?”
“They seem to be tearing off the palm branches, sir.”
“What is going on here?” I said it more to myself than to any of the men standing near me. An uncomfortable feeling crept into me as the procession advanced.
“They don’t usually do this?” Claudius questioned.
“No . . . They’ve never done this before.” There was worry in my voice. Claudius had been recently assigned to this place, the festering armpit of the empire, and I was at a loss to explain what was happening before us. We were standing on the wall above the gate of Jerusalem, and less than a half mile away, we could see the jubilant pilgrims surging toward us in alarming numbers.
“They’re laying the palm branches on the road in front of that man—the man on the donkey.”
Until Claudius said it, I hadn’t noticed the donkey. Its small size and the frenzy of activity round about must have obscured this detail in the picture before me. What an odd way for this man to come. I could make no sense of it.
“They’re throwing down their cloaks before him.”
The sweat- glistened bodies of several men were clearly visible. Outer garments were being cast down before this man as a sign of homage. At the same time the rhythmic chanting of their voices became more distinct.
What were they singing? Could I pick up the words?
     “Hosanna to the Son of David!”
     “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
     “Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
That’s when it hit me like a barbarian’s club. I realized what I was witnessing. It was a triumphal entry—the entry of a king.
It was the words. The words they were now boisterously shouting. He was their Messiah. The Son of David! The one they were waiting for! The one who would rid them of the Romans. He would set up his glorious Jewish kingdom, here, in Jerusalem! This is what I had been warned about since the day I first set foot on this cursed Judean soil. And we, I and my men and the garrison in the city, were all that stood in their way.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or https://www.christianbook.com