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I love the Psalms

~ Connecting daily with God through the Psalms

I love the Psalms

Tag Archives: high priest

Excerpt 27 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

27 Tuesday Mar 2018

Posted by davidkitz in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Lent

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

blood, Caesar, Caiaphas, Christ, crucify, David Kitz, Golgotha, high priest, innocent, Jesus, king, Lent, Messiah, Pilate, repentance, trial of Jesus, verdict

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 forty in the morning, Friday, April 7 30A.D.
The trial of Jesus ends. The verdict is delivered.

Pilate was already seated, ready to pronounce judgment. A thin smile was now on his face. The cunning Badger would make the most of his final moves. When Jesus was in position, he began. Once more he motioned in the direction of the Christ, and to all assembled he announced, “Here is your king.”
“Take him away!” came the instant response. “Take him away! Crucify him!”
There was vehement insistence coming from the crowd. Some began to hurl dust in theBiblical fiction winner 2017 air. This was verging on a riot, a point that was surely obvious to the governor, yet he played them on.
“Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate called back to the throng.
“We have no king but Caesar,” the Weasel spat back.
The Badger’s eyebrows shot up.
The governor smiled and nodded. It was a smile of triumphant satisfaction. We have no king but Caesar. The Badger mulled over these words. I knew he had waited years for these words. After all he had endured in this place, wasn’t it well worth hearing this confession from the high priest’s mouth?
Ironically, the governor had Jesus to thank for the high priest’s sudden conversion and submission to imperial Rome. This declaration would never have come forth from the Weasel’s lips, except to secure the conviction of the good Galilean. Caiaphas was willing to stoop before Rome in order to spill the blood of this prophet. Here was the true measure of his hatred for the Northern Messiah.
Pilate knew all this, and he drew a good measure of perverse satisfaction from it. He understood his foe.
He called for his personal attendant to bring a basin of water. Now he would lay the blame where the bloody blame belonged. With the attendant holding the basin before him, Pilate made a great show of washing his hands before the crowd, and with insistence in his voice, he declared, “I am innocent of the blood of this man.”
Here was the feint, the great pretend.
Next came the dodge.
With water still dripping from his hands, he looked out over the crowd and declared, “You yourselves see to it.”
He spoke as though he had abdicated—bore no responsibility for the blood that now trickled down Jesus’s back. He absolved himself of that and of all that would soon flow on Golgotha.
This Badger could throw a bit of dirt.
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It was fitting for Annas the aged priest to respond. It was he who answered for the people. With his finger pointed at Jesus and his gaze fixed on him, he replied, “His blood be on us.” Then he paused as though looking down through the generations of time. “And on our children,” he added with a cold, sardonic stare.
Out on the street the people answered, “Yes!” They nodded their agreement with this verdict.

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.

Excerpt 24 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

22 Thursday Mar 2018

Posted by davidkitz in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Good Friday, Lent

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Annas, Caiaphas, Galilee, Herod, high priest, Jesus, Lent, Messiah, Pontius Pilate, The Soldier Who Killed a King, trial, trial of Jesus

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, Friday, April 7 A.D.
Jesus trial before Pontius Pilate continues.

In due course we all resumed our previous positions. At this point I fully expected Pilate to pronounce the prisoner guilty of high treason. After all, this Messiah had freely confessed to being a king. But I can only guess that Jesus’s words did have an impact on the governor. Upon taking his seat, Pilate announced, “I find no basis for a charge against him.”
A murmur arose from beyond the pikemen.
Caiaphas was livid. He let fly with a torrent of accusations, the last of these being that Jesus had threatened to destroy the temple and then rebuild it in three days.
Showing extraordinary patience, Pilate let the high priest rage. When Caiaphas’s fury was spent, Pilate turned to Jesus and asked, “Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?”
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But Jesus answered him not a word. His silence itself became a challenge. Pilate had cleared him. Why should he answer to these further allegations?
Though stunned by this silence, Pilate repeated his position. “I find no basis for a charge against him.”
Once again discontent began to rumble through the crowd on the street.
At this point I expected the trial to end and the prisoner to be released. Let the crowds rage. Rome had spoken.
But Annas stepped smartly into the breach. “He stirs up the people all over Judea by his teaching. He started in Galilee and has come all the way here.”
“Is he a Galilean?” Pilate asked. “Under Herod’s jurisdiction?”
“Yes,” the flustered Caiaphas confessed, not knowing where this questioning might lead. “Then to Herod he should go,” was Pilate’s prompt response. “Why drag me into this?” He sneered at the high priest.
The governor seemed weary of the whole affair, and for the third time that morning, he found a way to dodge and retreat.
This trial was over.
The dark-eyed Badger rose from his judgment seat. He walked over to Jesus, the accused, and with a rather cunning smile and a nod, he said, “Off to Herod you will go, man of truth.”

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.

Excerpt 22 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

20 Tuesday Mar 2018

Posted by davidkitz in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Good Friday, Lent

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Annas, Caiaphas, high priest, Jesus of Nazareth, judge, Pontius Pilate, The Soldier Who Killed a King, trial, trial of Jesus

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: Six thirty in the morning, Friday, April 7 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.
Picture Cent-helmetHe 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.
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 bothbiblical-fiction-award-2017_orig 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.

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.

Excerpt 21 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

19 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by davidkitz in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Good Friday, Lent

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

arrested, Caiaphas, centurion, high priest, Jerusalem, Jesus of Nazareth, Lent, Longinus, Marcus, Pontius Pilate, 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?

Date: Five forty-five in the morning, Friday, April 7 A.D.
In today’s reading, a messenger from Pontius Pilate arrives at the home of Marcus Longinus, the Roman centurion, with the news that Jesus has been arrested.

“Sir, I have just come from the governor. You are to report to the Praetorium immediately. Jesus of Nazareth has been arrested. The high priest has brought him before the governor for judgment.”
“Is that so?” I said in a state of consternation. “Who sent you?”
“The governor himself. He said you were familiar with the Galilean.”
I blew a short puff of air through my nostrils. All of Jerusalem was somewhat familiar with the Galilean.
“So he wants me there immediately?”
“Immediately, sir.” He shifted from one foot to the other and then, as if to justify thisCentur. Sw response, he added, “The high priest and a big delegation, maybe three hundred men, maybe more, arrived at the palace door at first light. They had the prisoner—Jesus—with them.”
“Tell the governor I’m on my way.”
With a quick nod of my head, I dismissed the messenger. Instantly he turned and began his run back to the governor’s residence. I took one step back inside the gate and began barking orders.
“You, you, and you!” I stabbed my index finger in the direction of the most dressed and prepared-looking soldiers. “Strap on your swords and follow me. Now!”
Then, addressing the other soldiers, I announced, “The rest of you, meet me at the Praetorium as soon as you are ready.”
“Claudius”—I nodded in his direction—“you are in charge. I’ll give everyone their assignment for the day when they get there.”
I stepped back through the gate and began covering the ground with long, quick strides. My three recruits had to run to catch up. With each stride a new thought came jogging into my head. Stupid Arius! Why didn’t he tell me the messenger was from Pilate? I would have moved a good deal faster.
Obviously my concerns about the prophet had moved up the chain of command. Flavio must have informed Pilate about my worries and the actions I had taken, hence this unusual move—a direct summons by the governor. I harbored the hope that he would consult directly with me on the matter. Three hundred men! Three hundred men at first light? The Weasel must have had a busy night. It takes a good deal of effort to set your troops in array. Caiaphas must have been hatching this plot for a good long while. 4485 TWITTER
But the Weasel caught his prey! What a sweet bit of treachery that must have been. I wondered how he pulled that off. Now the high priest would move in for the kill. We would see if he could slaughter his own Passover lamb. The people! If the pilgrims, especially the Galilean pilgrims, knew their Messiah had been seized, there could be a mass revolt. That must be why the Weasel had done his dirty work in the dark of the night. And furthermore, he had played out this drama at the zenith of the festival, while minds and hearts were on faith, home, and family. Here was a cunning scheme worthy of the Fox, played out by the Weasel.
Undoubtedly most of the population would still be unaware of these developments, even as I had been caught off guard. Off guard but not surprised. I could smell this coming.
My conversation with Renaldo at the bathhouse came echoing back. It gave me an eerie feeling knowing I had spoken like some prophetic oracle. It made me wonder from where that insight had really come.
“By Jupiter! I forgot the spikes.” I wheeled around while reaching out my hand to halt the soldier at my side. Addressing him directly, I said, “I forgot them—the spikes. They’re in a pouch hanging on a peg in my bedchamber. My wife, she’ll know where they are. Ask her to get the pouch for you. Then bring it to me at the Praetorium. Oh, and tell the other men to hurry. This is urgent.” I fixed my eyes on him to stress the importance of this last statement and then added, “Now run.”

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.

 

Excerpt 19 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

15 Thursday Mar 2018

Posted by davidkitz in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Lent, The Soldier Who Killed a King

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Caiaphas, centurion, Claudia Procula, governor, Herod, Herod the tetrarch, high priest, King Herod, Pontius Pilate, repentance, Savior

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, the rivalry and tension between the Governor Pontius Pilate, and Joseph Caiaphas, the high priest are on full display. The two leaders are waiting for the official arrival of Herod the tetrarch. Date: Mid afternoon on Thursday, April 6th, 30 A.D.

When all were in position, I called for the lowering of the heavy, grated iron gate. From now on, the Passover celebrants would be forced to use an alternate entrance or exit.
In short order the toga-clad governor, Pontius Pilate, arrived on his gold-ornamented chariot. The gate was raised. By the governor’s side stood Claudia Procula lavishly dressed in full-length scarlet. Her bejeweled opulence contrasted sharply with the poverty common to most women of this province. The chariot took a position allowing the ruling couple to look out to the Mount of Olives, in readiness for the approaching king.
The only missing player was Caiaphas. In due time his delegation arrived, and the enormous gate was hauled up once more on creaking chains, only to be lowered again when the priestly party had exited.
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Pilate had been gazing down the road stretched out before him when Caiaphas arrived, and it was only the coarse rattle coming from the gate chains behind him that alerted him to the approach of the high priest and his delegation. He turned, stepped down from the chariot, and briskly strode over to the dumbfounded cleric. The expression on Caiaphas’s face said it all. He clearly did not expect to see Pilate here. He had intended this to be a discreet, private tour and consultation.
“You’re expecting someone?” Pilate brusquely inquired.
An uncomfortable pause followed. Caiaphas cast a hasty glance at those accompanying him, adjusted the folds in his robe, cleared his rusty throat, and replied, “Yes, King Herod requested a tour of the great temple.”
“Did he now?” There was a coldness in Pilate’s voice that betrayed the utter contempt he felt toward this Jewish leader. “Ahh!” He gestured grandly. “There is no king in these parts. I know of no king.” Then spotting me on horseback nearby, the governor turned and in mock sincerity called out, “Centurion. Is there a king around here?”
“We have no king here but Caesar,” I answered, joining in the sport.
“The centurion says there is no king but Caesar. Do you have some other king I’m unaware of? Perhaps I should meet this king.”
By now the high priest was well beyond flustered. He had stepped into a trap. Surrounded by Roman troops and cut off from the safety of the temple’s hallowed sanctum, he was now being hectored by his chief political rival. It seemed more than he could endure. He began to tremble uncontrollably, whether from fear or anger I could not tell.
“Your Excellency”—he swallowed hard—“I was referring to the . . . te-tetrarch of Galilee.” 
“The te-tetrarch?” Pilate mimicked not only the high priest’s tremulous stammer, but also the rusty-gate scratch of his voice. “Is that so? Well, the tetrarch is no king. And he certainly isn’t your king.” Then with slow, icy deliberation, Pilate said, “There is no king here but Caesar. Did you hear that?”
This was no rhetorical question. “Yes, Your Excellency. I heard.”Biblical fiction winner 2017
“Do you, any of you”—he scanned the delegation—“have any other king?”
The cowering dogs dutifully answered, “No, we have no other king.”
Caiaphas, however, was silent. A fact well noted by the governor.
Then Pilate took a step closer to the trembling priest, pointed a bony finger in his face, and hissed, “Now don’t forget that, you old goat, or your blood will be running down the Kidron! Did you hear that?”
“I . . . I am your servant, Your Excellency,” Caiaphas rasped.
“Ha!” Pilate laughed an icy laugh in a show of disdain for that remark. Then he turned on his heels and marched back to his chariot, where once more he joined his wife.
For a full minute there was stunned silence from the religious delegation, and then suddenly they all began to speak at once in a huddle of hushed tones like schoolboys after a tongue-lashing from the headmaster.
But there was murder in the high priest’s eye. Nothing childish there. From my vantage point I could see that. He didn’t have the means, but he most certainly had the intent.
I am sure that if the gate had been open, the delegation would have returned to the safety of the sanctuary to plot their revenge, but that option was not open to them. They were trapped in this pocket, surrounded by hated foreign troops, subject to the whim and ridicule of their enemy, awaiting the arrival of their pretentious savior king.
Long, awkward moments passed. But they were saved from this interminable purgatory by Herod’s arrival.

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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