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Category Archives: The Soldier Who Killed a King

From a Soldier’s Point of View

12 Tuesday Nov 2019

Posted by davidkitz in book review, Books by David Kitz, The Soldier Who Killed a King

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centurion, David Kitz, Good Friday, Jesus' death, The Soldier Who Killed a King

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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Reading 37 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

15 Monday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Christ's Passion, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 1 Comment

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David Kitz, Lent, repentance, The Soldier Who Killed a King

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?

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 36 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

12 Friday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 1 Comment

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Caiaphas, Jesus of Nazareth, Lent, repentance, tomb

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: 10:00 in the morning, Saturday, April 8, 30 A.D.
Marcus Longinus, the Roman centurion, seals Jesus’ tomb in compliance with the orders from Caiaphas, the high priest.

“Look,” I argued. “This is Jesus of Nazareth, if that’s your concern. I saw him taken off the cross”—I motioned in the vague direction of Golgotha—“wrapped in that shroud.”
I pointed to it. “He was carried into this tomb. This is his body.” I put stress on each word.
“Will you swear to that?”
I raised my right hand. “By the emperor’s throne, by the sacred temple, by all that is holy, I will swear.” I spoke with mounting anger.biblical-fiction-award-2017_orig
This assertion appeared to satisfy them.
We walked out of the tomb, and I chose two fresh men to roll the stone back.
Then once more I addressed the high priest’s men. “I didn’t bring any plaster, or water, or a pot to mix it in. I will need to send someone to get these.”
This news was greeted with a disdainful sigh, but they insisted they would wait by the tomb until the job was done. I sent two men off to retrieve the required tools and material, and in due course they returned.
We mixed the fine-powdered plaster with water in an ample-sized iron pot. Using a stonemason’s trowel I scooped the wet, gray plaster over the narrow crevice that separated the rock door from the rock face of the hill. Soon an airtight plaster seal was in place around the giant circular rock door. At two points, one on either side, I affixed the governor’s own stamp into the yet pliable wet plaster.
Any tampering would break this seal and obliterate the imperial stamp.
At last they were satisfied. Caiaphas himself would have approved of this seal.
But then, why was I working for him?

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

11 Thursday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Books by David Kitz, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Christ, Messiah, miracles, Pilate, prophet, repentance

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 34 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

10 Wednesday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

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centurion, Jesus, Lent, prophet, repentance

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, 30AD
Marcus Longinus, the Roman centurion, meets with Renaldo, a fellow centurion, to discuss the setting of a guard at Jesus’ tomb.

“I may have some work for you men,” I called out to these soldiers. “So don’t leave just yet.”
Upon hearing my voice Renaldo emerged from a side room where he and his wife had been tending to Lucas. “What is it, Marcus?” he asked.
“Oh, I need some men to guard the prophet’s tomb.” It was impossible to hide my frustration.
“Why?” Renaldo reacted with a shake of his head. He found this quite perplexing.
“Well,” I responded, “it seems that the high priest and his crew are worried that either Jesus will arise from the dead or his disciples will come and steal his body.”
“That’s bizarre.” Renaldo shook his head again. “Just bizarre. Where did they get that notion?”
“From Jesus. From the prophet himself. Apparently he predicted it.”
He bowed his head slightly, and then brought his hand to his forehead in what appeared to be a desperate attempt to mentally digest it all.
“Look, Renaldo. I don’t have time to try and explain this.” My exasperation was clearly showing. “And I don’t really know if I even can. Right now I need sixteen men to take to the tomb for the first shift. I need them there within the hour. I thought if we combined your men here with my men next door, we could make up this first contingent.”
“First contingent?”
“First contingent—first shift. They want it guarded day and night for the next three days.”
He shook his head again. “Fine.” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “We’ll prance around and do the Weasel’s bidding.” He was clearly angry. “Did Pilate approve this?”

DSC_0060

Roman centurion — Andrew Nicholls

“Yes sir.” I bowed low in a show of mock subservience. “He’s back lickin’ the holy man’s stinkin’ feet—once again! He started yesterday during the Messiah’s trial,” I said bitterly, “and now, who knows when he’ll stop.”
“I can only shake my head,” Renaldo answered as he did just that. Then after a pause, with grim resignation in his voice, he said, “Let’s get on with it. I suppose we have to do it.”
He turned and bellowed at the twelve waiting men, “All of you head over next door.”

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 33 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

09 Tuesday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

crown of thorns, crucifixion, Golgotha, Jesus, Lent, repentance

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, endures a sleepless night as he reflects on his role in Christ’s crucifixion.

It was a horrible night. Horrible!biblical-fiction-award-2017_orig
I could not sleep. The events of the day kept flooding over my mind—a constant bloody torrent. During the daylight hours you can steel yourself against another man’s suffering. But at night your hard shell dissolves from around you, and you are left in just your own skin again. Then their suffering soaks into your flesh, and it becomes your own.
There seemed to be no end to it—no end to this torment. I willed myself to sleep. But I could not find that door of escape. It eluded me.
Instead I was pursued relentlessly by the dreadful events of the day. The hammer blows kept ringing in my head. And now their pain was mine.
All night my mind was on Golgotha.
Why me? Why Jesus? Why by some cruel twist of heaven’s fate did I find myself with him upon the hill of execution?
When I closed my eyes, his face appeared before me. His gentle eyes stared down on me, boring a hole into my very soul. Blood oozed down from the stabbing crown of thorns. It pooled and dried along his eyebrows. And his pain? His pain was my own.
Once in the night Zelda put her arm around me and drew close.
I pulled away. I could not be comforted. I could not be loved, and neither could I give love. She could not reach me. I was well beyond all this.
Why did I spit in Jesus’s face? Why did all hell erupt from within me? I hated being forced into this role, the role of the killer, the executioner. Just as in Germania, I was compelled—forced by circumstances into a role that I despised. But when my moment came, with my men gathered around, I played it to the hilt. The brute lurking at the bottom of the chasm within me took full control. Today on Golgotha the horror and rage of Germania had found a fresh vent.
But this was no barbarian village. This was no blond-haired girl; this was the Son of God. The Son of God . . .
The words of my confession reverberated through my throbbing mind, over and over, until I thought my head would split.
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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 32 for Easter from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

06 Saturday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

centurion, Jesus, prophet, repentance, resurrection, tomb

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: Nine in the morning, Sunday, April 9, 30 A.D.
Marcus Longinus, the Roman centurion, investigates his soldiers’ report that Jesus had risen from the dead.

It was as they said. The stone was rolled away. But it was not merely rolled to the side as I had expected. It had been pushed right up and out of its stone track, and it had toppled over a good distance from the tomb entrance.
I edged my way toward it. About two paces from the end of the stone track, there was gouge in the shallow soil, where the round cover stone had landed and then rolled. This was a real headshaker. How had this happened? It must have been rolled back with such force that when it reached the end of the track, it bounced up and out. No wonder the men were scared! This was awesome. Forty men could not do this!
Suddenly I felt very small, small and afraid.

OTT0304-KITZ1

Photo credit Jean Levac, Ottawa Citizen

And this was the very stone we had sealed just a day earlier. A close examination showed that in a few spots there were still fragments of broken plaster on it. I exhaled a huge puff of air. This discovery in itself was beyond all expectation. The force of the quake could not have done this. A quake of such magnitude would have collapsed the tomb itself, and not a building in the city would be standing. No, a direct force had hurled this boulder away from the tomb’s entrance.
An almighty warrior from heaven’s realm?
I rejoined my two men. Suddenly they gained a new level of respect in my eyes. Their fears had become my own. I found I was rolling my head from side to side just as I had seen Claudius do.

“You saw this happen?” I gestured to the fallen round rock and then put a finger to my lips. I was astounded.
“Actually,” Philip admitted, “I didn’t see him roll the stone. We all fell like dead men when the earthquake hit. But after, when I opened my eyes, the angel was sitting on it, and . . . and Jesus was walking out of the tomb.” He fell to his knees and began to beat the ground as he said this last part. He was gripped afresh by the memory.
“Where were you when this happened?” He raised his head and pointed to a spot a few paces away. “Right there.”
“And you?” I looked at Claudius. He pointed to another spot. “Just over here,” he said. “That’s my cloak. I left it when I ran.”
There was, in fact, a good bit of flotsam scattered about: a few cloaks, a water jug, Philip’s precious dice, even a helmet. Here were all the signs of panicked flight. They had left all and fled for their lives.
For me only one question remained. Was the open tomb truly empty?
“Get to your feet, Philip,” I said. “You two stay here and watch while I go take a look inside.”
I took three deep breaths and set out on my little journey. It was only about twenty paces4485 SHARABLE-2 to the tomb entrance. A distance made much longer by my fear. But the whole scene was bathed in the warmth of morning sunlight. I started slowly. About halfway to the entrance, a songbird broke forth in glorious melody. The sun’s rays streamed into the rock tomb, lighting my way.
It was empty! The stone slab lay empty. Actually, it was not entirely so. The death shroud had been rolled up, and the face covering was neatly folded and lay off to one side. It appeared as though the awakened corpse took a moment to make his bed after getting up.
The Galilean prophet, the true king, had arisen and gone forth!

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 32 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

06 Saturday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, Psalms, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

centurion, crucifixion, Golgotha, Messiah, Pilate

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: Seven in the morning, Saturday, April 8, 30 A.D.
Annas meets with Pontius Pilate and asks that Jesus’ tomb be guarded.

Pilate was seated even as I saw him yesterday. He wore a rather haggard look, as though he had slept on the bloodstained rocks of Golgotha. He motioned for the temple delegation to step forward. I waited at the back of the room in a repetition of the governor’s late- day interview with Joseph of Arimathea.
Annas bowed and began. “Sir, we remember that while he was still alive that deceiver said, ‘After three days I will rise again.’”
A strange tingle ran through me as he said this. Pilate rubbed his hands.
Annas continued. “So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead.” Then he concluded by lifting a bony finger and saying, “This last deception will be worse than the first.”
On hearing this, Pilate sighed deeply, then beckoned me forward. There was worry in his eyes. “The centurion here, Marcus Longinus, is fully acquainted with the case of the Galilean prophet. He oversaw his crucifixion.” Then he addressed me directly. “Is that not so?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. It is as you say.”
With that he raised his hands and motioned both parties together. Then, speaking directly to all of us, he said, “Take a guard. Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how.” Rubbing his guilt- stained hands once more, the Badger got up and skulked off. Free WW-e FACEBOOK-2 (2)Annas was jubilant. With eagerness in his voice, he turned to address me. “How soon can you have your troops at the tomb?”
“We should be there in about an hour.”
“Excellent! These two gentlemen will meet you there. They will ensure that all is in order. Understood?”
“Yes. Understood,” I said. Then I addressed the Pharisees. “Do you know which tomb? Do you know where it is?”
Annas answered for them. “Ah, they know it well.” He gave a contemptuous snort. “The traitor’s tomb, Joseph of Arimathea!”
“I will bring my men and meet you there then.” I gave a slight bow with my head. The chamberlain saw us to the door, and then I was off, back to my home.
I shook my head several times in disbelief as I trudged back. Every time I tried to extricate myself from this Messiah pit, this kingdom of God affair, this abysmal hole, I would find myself sucked in even deeper. And now it had happened again. Was there no escape?
Would I ever be allowed to speak my mind before Pilate?

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 30 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

04 Thursday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Elijah, Jesus, kingdom, Son of God, the cross

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: Three o’clock in the afternoon, Friday, April 7, 30A.D.
Jesus’ final moments on the cross.

Here is the obscenity of crucifixion. Naked men are unwillingly mated to two wooden beams. They must thrust the whole of their bodies upward in excruciating pain, ever- increasing pain to catch their next breath—until all strength is drained away. Then death steals in.
This is the shame of the cross. Here is the depravity—a profane sacrilege inflicted upon the human body.
The ghastly rhythm of it was driving me mad.
Then in soul- wrenching anguish, his voice erupted. “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”
“What does that mean?” I cried out into the darkness.
From beyond the military cordon came the answer. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
He had broken. The Christ hung broken. The cross had broken him. He too was human. We were all together now, a great crowd caught up in this drama. There was no us and them. We were together. We were caught between heaven and hell in this dark, surreal atmosphere.
It was dreadful. Centur Rep
Someone frantically yelled, “It’s Elijah! He’s calling Elijah.”
Exhaling.
Mounting up.
Ever-heightening pain.
Catching a breath.
Retreating.
From on the Mother’s Hill, a wail went up. It was steady, constant, a wave of woe flowing over the dark scene.
Exhaling.
Mounting up.
Ever-heightening pain.
Catching a breath.
Retreating.
“Will Elijah come?” someone asked. “Will he come?” Many of the hostile were even now on bended knees. The cavalrymen dismounted.
Exhaling.
Mounting up.
Ever-heightening pain.
Catching a breath.
Retreating.
“I thirst!” the king called out.
Claudius leaped to his feet. There was a jar of wine off to one side. The soldiers had been drinking freely from this. He ran over to it and got a sponge. He dropped the sponge into the jar of wine and then skewered it with a long reed. This he held up to dampen the lips of the donkey king.
But some yelled out, “Wait! Let’s see if Elijah will come and save him.”
Exhale.
Mounting up.
Ever-heightening pain.
Catch a breath.
Retreat.
The rarified air crackled with anticipation.
Exhaling.
Mounting up.
Ever-heightening pain.
Catching a breath.
Retreating.
Can the Creator—the God of heaven and earth—save him now?
Exhaling.
Mounting up.
Ever-heightening pain.
Catching a breath.
Retreating.
“It is finished!” he cried.
But there was no anguish in his voice. There was the ring of victory to it, as if he had caught with that last breath a glimpse—a glimpse of his kingdom. A glorious kingdom! He had gained the summit. Now with vigor renewed, he pushed up and forward one last time.Free WWe SHARABLE-1 (2)
Exhaling.
Mounting up.
Ever- heightening pain.
Catching a breath.
Retreating.
“Father . . .
“Into your hands . . .
“I commit . . .
“My Spirit.”
His head dropped. It was over.
As his chin hit his chest, the earth began to rumble. Low thrumming. Building . . . building . . .
The rock Skull began to move beneath my feet. And with it, my soul.
I fell to the ground.
The crosses began to vibrate and rock with the power of the quake. His head bobbed from side to side.
But he was dead.
He was dead!
Everyone was with me on bended knees.
Heaven had rendered its dark judgment. The sun had hidden its face. The very earth had answered back. The verdict was in.
I caught two huge breaths of air, and then for the whole world to hear, I cried out, “He really was the Son of God.”
He was the Son of God.
The sun broke through.
A rooster crowed.

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 29 for Lent from “The Soldier Who Killed a King”

03 Wednesday Apr 2019

Posted by davidkitz in Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Tags

crucifixion, darkness, Jesus, mother, soldiers

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: About noon, Friday, April 7 30A.D.
The crucifixion of Jesus.

Now there was movement on the Mother’s Hill. A middle-aged couple came down. Their heads were hanging. They clung to each other, supported each other, every step an anguish. They made their way before the encircling pikemen.
I knew who they were—knew why they had come. Here were the broken parents, broken beyond this world’s repair. I met them at the base of the hill, told them they had some time.
They advanced up the Skull. She fell, fell whimpering before her son. Thaddaeus. Boisterous soldiers fell silent and then walked off, right off the hill. The family was alone with their grief.
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Having witnessed this grim but welcoming reception, another party stepped off the Mother’s Hill and advanced to Golgotha. This was a group of five. The women clung to one another in couples. They were shepherded by a tall young man. His fresh face and scant beard bore witness to his youth. I recognized him. He had been with Jesus, had stood closest to him.
He introduced himself. He said his name was John. I received his party—ushered them by the outer ring of soldiers.
They were bowed by the sight. They clung to one another afresh, repulsed by the horror of what met their eyes.
After a few moments the young man came before two of the huddled older women. He stooped to speak with one of the women—the Christ’s mother, I assumed. Then with his arm about her shoulder, John advanced up the rock mound.
Jesus saw them.
He struggled.
“Woman . . . behold your son!”
There was a double- edged meaning here, almost too painful for words. At first I thought he was simply referring to himself—to his own wretched state. And perhaps on one level he was.
His body sagged. But then he thrust himself up and forward for another breath, and with his next words his meaning became clear. To the young man, to his disciple, he said, “Behold your mother!”
He had committed his mother into this disciple’s care. She fell to her knees. She trembled, unable to speak. Only wretched sobbing was heard from within the circle of the hill.
In due time I led both families off. They left willingly. This was too much to bear, too much to watch.
From his cross Animal watched the Mother’s Hill. But no one came. That’s when he broke—broke like a clay pot dropped onto the hard rock of the Skull.
He sobbed. He moaned.
His tears flowed like rivers into his dark, young beard.
But no mother came. No one came at all. Free WW-e FACEBOOK-2 (2)
The wind picked up. The sky grew dark. Then it grew darker yet. The horses began to neigh and paw the ground. In the distance a dog barked. It was a bark that changed to a howl but ended in a whimper. I looked about. I could see it on every face. It was fear. Raw fear. This was not the dark of cloud or storm. This was the sun covering, hiding its face from what it saw upon the earth.
A total darkness descended, as black as any night.
There was a discord here—a discord utter and complete. If heaven and earth had come into some perfect union—some perfect harmony—on the day Jesus arrived in this city, it was in blaring dissonance now. Blaring dissonance echoed off the empty chambers of my soul.
It was a deafening darkness.
The mocking crowds fell silent. The highway traffic stopped. All was still.
Silent.
Only the three men were heard. Heard in the darkness. Three men working to maintain this perverted thing called life.
Working.
Pushing up.
Up to catch a breath.

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

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