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I love the Psalms

~ Connecting daily with God through the Psalms

I love the Psalms

Category Archives: The Soldier Who Killed a King

Sealed in a Stone Cold Tomb

08 Saturday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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crucifixion, Jerusalem, Pontius Pilate, Roman centurion, tomb

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.

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.
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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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

Trial before Pilate

07 Friday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Caiaphas, centurion, crucifixion, Jesus of Nazareth, Pilate

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.

Date: Six thirty in the morning, Friday, April 7, 30 A.D.
Jesus’ trial before Pontius Pilate begins.

The governor peered over the heads of the men directly in front of him. He scanned the assemblage on the street, took in the significance of it all, and then cleared his throat. “Where is the man?”
Jonathon turned quickly. On reaching the first step, he beckoned beyond our pikemen to three of his own temple guards, who then advanced with their prisoner—Jesus of Nazareth.
He was a mess, almost unrecognizable. His hair was matted. He had been spat upon. The spittle was drying in his beard. There were red welts on his face and neck, a blood-oozing gash above his left eye, a discernable limp to his gait.
It was apparent that during the night they’d had their way with him.
He was escorted to a position directly before me. Intuitively I knew he was my man now, my charge.
A twitch of Pilate’s eyebrow hinted his surprise at the condition of the man.
“Loose him,” he directed with a slight wave of his hand.
Two temple guards hastened to unfasten the leather strap binding Jesus’s arms to his torso. The third man freed the prisoner’s hands. With a second wave of his hand, Pilate dismissed the temple guards, who repositioned themselves on the first step and stood facing the proceedings.

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Photo by David Kitz

Pilate took a seat on the throne of judgment, which had been brought out for him by two attendants. Raising the scroll in his left hand, he asked, “What charges are you bringing against this man?”
It was clear from this gesture that he was referring to the charges written on the scroll he now clutched in his hand. Undoubtedly he had read these charges himself, and in all likelihood had discussed them
with the assessor standing to his right. But he wanted the high priest to articulate them. “If he were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you,” Caiaphas said with a huff.
A rather cheeky response, I thought.
“Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law,” Pilate answered.
Here Annas interjected, “But we have no right to execute anyone.”
A devious response if there ever was one. The temple, in fact, routinely acted as both judge and executioner in religious matters and had been granted full authority to do so. Death by stoning was commonplace. I had witnessed Annas himself cast the first stone at some hapless adulteress within the first week of my arrival here ten years ago. No, the temple had the right to execute, and these crafty fellows could surely find grounds to execute this man. They just didn’t want the blood on their hands. They did not want to be blamed for the death of this rabbi. For many he had become the hope of the nation. No, they wanted us to do the job, to act as their executioners. They wanted him judged and executed under Roman law. What Caiaphas said next made this abundantly clear.
“We have found this man”—he aimed a bony finger at Jesus—“subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be Messiah, a king.”
Now here was a capital offense—a capital offense under Roman law.
The Weasel had backed the Badger into a corner, and he was relishing the moment. These charges would need further examination. But Pilate would not proceed in full view of a gloating high priest, urged on by his consorts and a handpicked audience. He retreated.
He abruptly arose from his throne, fixed his eyes on me, and said, “Bring the man.” He motioned with a jerk of his head toward the great doors behind us and then marched off into his residence.
I stepped down to escort Jesus, but he was already in motion. It became clear that the steps were painful for him. I put my hand to his elbow.

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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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

Who Is the Son?

06 Thursday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Caiaphas, God's son, Jesus of Nazareth, prophet, Roman centurion

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.

In today’s reading, Marcus, the Roman centurion, continues his conversation with his nephew, the young soldier Claudius. Claudius is reporting on the activities and the message of Jesus of Nazareth

But Claudius wasn’t done.
“You know about this kingdom notion,” he said. “Jesus told another story, and it helped me catch what he was driving at. He talked about a landowner who planted a vineyard and then went away. He rented the land out to farmers, but when he sent servants to collect the rent, the farmers would beat the servants or kill them. Finally, in desperation he sent his own son to collect the rent, thinking the farmers would respect him. But the renters said, ‘Let’s kill him and the land will be ours.’ So, they took the son outside the vineyard and killed him.
“Then Jesus asked the people around him what would happen to those renters when the owner came back. They answered that the landowner would kill those miserable renters and give the vineyard to someone else who would pay him on time.
“Jesus said they were right. And then he said, now catch this”—Claudius gestured with an upraised index finger—“‘The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people who will produce its fruit.’ Those were his very words.”
“So what did he mean by that?” I asked, quite mystified.
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“I wasn’t too sure myself at first. I knew he said this as a rebuke to the high priest and the religious establishment. Everyone there knew he was telling this story against them. But later I asked the man beside me what he thought Jesus meant by this parable. He said the landowner was God, the religious leaders were the renters, and the servants who came to collect the rent were the prophets of the past. We just weren’t sure who the son was. I suggested that Jesus himself might be the son. But he just looked at me like I was a complete idiot, shook his head, and said, ‘God doesn’t have a son.’ I kept my mouth shut after that.”
“Well then,” I surmised, “this prophet, this Jesus, really has set himself up in opposition to the religious authorities. If he’s publicly predicting the end of their rule, he has picked a fight with them.”
I sucked in a long, slow breath. “And, Claudius”—I nodded in his direction—“it’ll be a fight to the finish.”
I continued as my mind caught the implications of my own words. “Jesus may have the people or at least a good number of the common people on his side. But Caiaphas is nobody’s fool. He’s got money and power behind him. The son in that story, if that’s who Jesus is”—I gestured with an upraised open palm—“he might yet be taken out and killed.”

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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

“Stretch out Your Leg!”

05 Wednesday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Jesus, joy, miracle, muscle, Roman centurion

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.

In today’s reading, Marcus the Roman centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, is enthralled as he watches Jesus heal a beggar boy in the temple courts (Matthew 21:14).

Having witnessed the temple cleansing, this crowd had a strong sense of expectation. What would he do now? That was the unspoken question on everyone’s mind.
In fact, for quite some time he did nothing. He simply stood there scanning the sea of faces. Then his eyes lit on a young lad, perhaps age twelve, standing to my far right. I had seen this beggar boy about the city many times. Their eyes engaged for a moment. The prophet gave a slight nod of his head—a signal for the boy to advance. He did so with haste. His right leg dangled loose like the limp rags he was wearing. The staccato scrape of his crutch on the stone floor echoed through the hushed courtyard. Eager determination marked his every move. In moments he stood before Jesus. His right leg was easily six inches shorter than the healthy left leg. The absence of any muscle in this stunted limb was painfully obvious, even at a distance.Soldier800kb
Like a father, Jesus placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, looked into his eyes, and in a firm voice commanded, “Stretch out your leg!”
The boy’s leg began to twitch and stir. Then it kicked forward. Once, twice, three times. With each kick the stone pavement grew closer. The toes stretched forward; the heel pressed down. On the fourth kick, contact was made. Two more kicks, and he had a solid footing. Now he began to jump up and down, up and down, on both feet. Muscle—muscle that hadn’t been there moments before—began to appear in his leg. The wooden crutch clattered lifelessly to the floor. He was free.
With one voice the crowd began to cheer and applaud. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
The ecstatic smile on this lad’s face I will never forget. He glowed. He danced. He danced on the spot a few more times, as if to confirm the miracle was real. Then he buried his head in Jesus’s chest and clung to him in a thank- you hug that lasted a full minute. When he raised his head to look into the Galilean’s eyes, tears streamed down his face. Joy tears. Thank-you tears.
“I can walk!”
“You can walk,” Jesus confirmed.
In fact, for the rest of the morning, he did very little walking. He bounced, jumped, skipped, and ran, but seldom only walked.

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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.


A House of Prayer or a Den of Thieves

04 Tuesday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Jesus, Passover, Prayer, prophet, temple

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.

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.
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.Free WWe SHARABLE-1 (2)
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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

Rome Will See to That!”

03 Monday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Jesus, Kingdom of God, miracles, Roman centurion

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.

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 sleeve 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?”

focus photography of sprinkled bread

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“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!”4485 FACEBOOK-1

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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

The Palm Sunday Entry

02 Sunday Apr 2023

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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Messiah, Passover, Roman centurion, Hosanna, Palm Sunday

What would it be like to be in Jerusalem during the most pivotal week in human history—the week of Christ’s arrest, trial, crucifixion and resurrection? Here is your frontrow seat to all the action as seen through the eyes of a Roman centurion.


I
t was never like this before.
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.Centurion best
“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.
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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

To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

For the Book Lover

27 Sunday Nov 2022

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

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book review, Messiah, passion, soldier

A book review by Alex Szollo

Entire libraries can be filled with accounts of the life and times of Jesus Christ, worshipped by billions of people all over the world as the Son of God, the Messiah, the Savior of the world, and all this has, of course, developed over the course of time. I’ve always been fascinated with the world into which Jesus was born, lived, died and was raised to life again. I’ve seen countless movies based on His life, and I’ve read a wealth of fiction books, from all sorts of perspectives. I think it’s safe to say that after years of reading about Christ, I found the most gripping, dramatic account of His passion that I’ve ever read. It arrived in the form of a novel called THE SOLDIER WHO KILLED A KING, written by David Kitz, whom I wholeheartedly thank for the signed copy of the novel. I also hereby declare that the views you are about to read are entirely my own. This is what this book fully deserves, because, to say it briefly, it’s awesome! The novel is written from the point of view of Marcus Longinus, a Roman soldier who observes the effect that Jesus has on the people of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, which is the event that starts the story. Over the course of a week, this man’s entire life is turned upside down and built anew as he seeks to find out the truth about who the mysterious, wonderworking “donkey king” is, and what He means for Rome, Israel, and the entire world. 4485 FACEBOOK-1 He witnesses the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, the cleansing of the temple, and thinks Jesus to be a ragtag revolutionary. Then, he sees Him pray and bring miracles to those who need them, and begins to wonder whether there’s more than meets the eye to this man, as he witnesses Jesus becoming caught in the power struggles between Caiaphas, Pilate and Herod Antipas (or the Weasel, the Badger and the Fox – all very fitting nicknames). Here is where the book becomes brutal, and I’m not just talking about what Jesus goes through. There’s a very powerful and dramatic scene where the blood-crazed Herod abuses his power in a shocking manner. Read the book to find out how, and how Christ plays a role in the aftermath of that scene. As for the Passion itself, it is depicted in all its cruelty, but there’s a great deal of reverence coming across. Readers will be transported to those times, they will be terrified and inspired at the same time, reliving the most impactful sacrifice of all time. Mr. Kitz’s background as a spoken-word drama performer comes across powerfully in this gripping narrative, which does not feel cheesy or preachy for a second. It’s the story of a man whose faith develops gradually, the fictional but Truth-filled story of the difference one Man and one week made in the history of the world. I’m blessed to have this book on my shelf and give it ten out of five stars! Blessings upon blessings, Mr. Kitz! You’ve written one for the ages! For US purchases and a book description from the publisher click here. For direct purchase from the author click here.

Excerpt from The Soldier Who Killed a King

13 Sunday Mar 2022

Posted by davidkitz in The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

healed, Herod, Jesus of Nazareth, 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?

In today’s reading, Marcus meets with his fellow centurion and friend, Renaldo. Renaldo has just seen the young boy Lucas who was healed in the temple courts on the previous day by Jesus of Nazareth.

“Marcus! Marcus!”
I spun around to see Renaldo emerging from the gateway stairway.
“Hey, Marcus! You were right. That boy really was healed.”
He voiced the words with such bald enthusiasm that I was completely disarmed.
“I just saw him. He was here—here at the gate.” He gestured down the gateway parapet4485 SHARABLE-2 to a point below us. “I saw him. I examined his leg. It’s completely healed. Just like the other one. It’s incredible!” he enthused. “He can jump! And run!”
“I told you. I told you, Renaldo,” I said while shaking my head.
“Yeah, but you don’t expect it,” he said as he justified his unbelief. “I mean, this kid’s been like this from birth. You see him the same way, day after day. And then one day . . . Boom! He’s completely different.”
“I told you. You didn’t believe me?” I uttered the words with a certain smug satisfaction.
“Well, you don’t expect it,” he repeated. “I mean, it’s one thing to hear it, but it’s quite something else to see it for yourself.”
“That’s exactly what I was trying to tell you. I said you’ve got to see this for yourself to understand.”
I sighed. Now I was beginning to realize why I wasn’t getting through.
“So it was Lucas,” I stated.
“It was Lucas!” Renaldo confirmed, shaking his head in a state of incredulous wonderment.
I changed the topic.
“Look, Renaldo, I would like to talk with you more about this, but we’ve both got some work to do. Word has just come in to Flavio. Herod has accepted Pilate’s invitation. He’ll be going directly to the Praetorium. Arriving at four. The Fish Gate route needs to be cleared. You know those temple traders have set up shop in there, and you’ve got to get them out. And the sooner, the better. Flavio says that’s your sector, so you’re on.” Renaldo took all this in stride. “Sure, Marcus. I’ll get right on it.”
I turned from him, but he called after me.
“Marcus. We need to talk more about this Jesus—this Jesus of Nazareth.”

American readers click this link to purchase The Soldier Who Killed a King.

Canadian readers click this link to purchase The Soldier Who Killed a King directly from the author.

An Excerpt from The Soldier Who Killed a King

12 Saturday Mar 2022

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

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Galilee, Jesus of Nazareth, Kingdom of God, Messiah

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 Flavio, the Roman tribune, who is his commanding officer. He lays out his concerns about a Galilean prophet that he sees as a dangerous threat—Jesus of Nazareth.

“Sometimes I think you worry too much, Marcus.”
“I worry because it’s my job to worry,” I shot back. “Barabbas is in prison because I worry.”
Flavio appeared to consider my reply as he swallowed another stringy morsel. “So what do you know about this prophet?”
“A lot of people think he’s the Messiah.”
“May all the gods help us! Another Roman-killing messiah!” Flavio jeered.
“This one just might be the real thing,” I said.
Centur. Sw“Ha!” he scoffed. “Bring him on!” He reached for his flagon. Finding it empty, he bellowed, “Where’s my wine?”
“Bloody incompetent servants,” he muttered. Then turning to me, he asked, “Does he have weapons?”
“No, not that I’ve seen.”
“Has he threatened us?”
“Not exactly.”
“Assaulted the tax collectors?”
“No.”
“Then leave the Jewish dog alone.”
The servant arrived with a bowl of hot, sticky cheese and placed it before me, along with two small barley loaves.
“Wine! Where’s the ruddy wine?” Flavio demanded of his harried attendant.
“He is preaching about a kingdom—the kingdom of God,” I countered.
“So let him preach.”
“Who do you think will be the king of this kingdom?” I reasoned. When Flavio remained silent, I answered my own question. “I’m sure it will be none other than Jesus of Nazareth. I don’t think there’s room for two kings in this town, and a Roman governor too.”
“I see your point,” Flavio said. He wiped a greasy hand across his mouth and thenbiblical-fiction-award-2017_orig rubbed the three days of stubble on his chin. “So he talks about a kingdom?”
“The coming kingdom,” I clarified. “It’s the whole point—the core of his message. So I’m told.”
The servant arrived with the wine. Flavio helped himself. Drank two- thirds of it in a massive gulp, then poured himself some more.
“And he has followers?” Flavio continued.
“Most of the Galilean pilgrims are firmly in his camp.”
“Galilee?” Flavio questioned. “He’s Herod’s man.” He paused to rub the tip of his nose. “I wonder what the Fox thinks of this Messiah.”

American readers click this link to purchase The Soldier Who Killed a King.

Canadian readers click this link to purchase The Soldier Who Killed a King directly from the author.

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