Tag Archives: Jesus

Excerpt 24 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

22 Thursday Mar 2018

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

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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: 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.”

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Excerpt 23 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

21 Wednesday Mar 2018

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

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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: Six fifty in the morning, Friday, April 7 A.D.
Jesus trial before Pontius Pilate continues.

When we entered the judgment hall, the dark-eyed Badger was seething. He knew Caiaphas was using him. He had said so to the assessor. He let fly a string of profanity. “He has me trapped!” he snarled. “Trapped like a rat in a stone water jar.” And with that he tossed the list of charges onto his desk.
James ThtThen he turned to Jesus in the center of the room. He looked him over, walked fully around him. Pilate sighed and nervously ran his fingers through his thinning hair. He made a smacking sound with his lips and asked, “Are you the king of the Jews?”
“You have said so,” came his equivocal answer.
This answer left the governor rocking on his heels. He brought a finger to his lips in pensive thought.
Jesus was not making an acquittal any easier.
But after a moment Jesus continued. “Is that your own idea, or did others talk to you about me?”
“Am I a Jew?” Pilate shot back with an ample measure of haughty contempt. “Your own people and chief priests handed you over to me.” He continued the questioning. “What is it you have done?”
“My kingdom is not of this world,” Jesus said, and to drive home this point, he added, “If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.”
Certain words that Claudius had spoken came echoing back into my mind. He had been convinced that this kingdom Jesus spoke of was somehow different from kingdoms as we know them. Now I heard it from this would-be Messiah’s mouth. He was no armed insurrectionist, and he had offered the actions of his followers as proof.
But Pilate seized on that word—kingdom. “You are a king, then!” Pilate deduced.
With calm, clear deliberation the prophet spoke. “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”
It almost seemed from this response that Jesus was operating from, and speaking on,Biblical fiction winner 2017 some higher plane—a dimension I had witnessed him operate from during the healings at the temple. He was inviting Pilate to join him in discovering this higher ground of truth.
Pilate would not be moved. They were speaking past each other.
“What is truth?” Pilate shrugged. The question was rhetorical. He had no intention of being dragged into a philosophical discussion with this prophet of the Jewish masses. Once again, the Badger retreated.
Grabbing the list of charges from off his desk, he motioned for us to follow him back outside.

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Blessed is the One You Discipline

19 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by in Bible, Devotionals, Psalm 94, Psalms

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Reading:                                      Psalm 94

(Verses 8-15)
Take notice, you senseless ones among the people;
you fools, when will you become wise?
Does he who fashioned the ear not hear?
Does he who formed the eye not see?
Does he who disciplines nations not punish?
Does he who teaches mankind lack knowledge?
 The LORD knows all human plans;
he knows that they are futile.
Blessed is the one you discipline, LORD,
the one you teach from your law;
you grant them relief from days of trouble,
till a pit is dug for the wicked.
For the LORD will not reject his people;
he will never forsake his inheritance.
Judgment will again be founded on righteousness,
and all the upright in heart will follow it (NIV).

Reflection
Do I like discipline? Hardly. Do I like self-discipline? Not really. Discipline sounds difficult or unpleasant. Self-discipline and self-denial are twin brothers. I don’t like either of them. They are two tough customers that demand that I change, but I don’t like change. My flesh—my stubborn sinful nature—resists change.

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Splendor and majesty are before Him — photo by David Kitz

On the other hand, do I like the fruits of self-discipline? Absolutely. Self-discipline pays huge dividends. In any field of endeavor, in due time self-discipline will bring rewards. Athletes succeed because of self-discipline. Fortunes are accumulated through self-discipline. But those same fortunes can be frittered away through a lack of discipline. Strength of character does not develop naturally; it develops through adversity and self-discipline.

Discipline comes in two forms, internally or externally. Both are needed if we are to become people of the cross.  Son though he was, he [Jesus] learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him (Hebrews 5:8-9). If Jesus learned obedience through the discipline of suffering, should we not expect to experience the same?

Here in Psalm 94 we learn that the LORD disciplines nations. The following admonition reminds us of the vital role that discipline plays in the life of the believer: “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.” Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all (Hebrews 12:5-8).

Response: LORD God, I confess that I need your discipline. I want to become like your Son, Jesus. Help me to learn from the difficult experiences of life. I want to live my life as your obedient child. Amen.

Your Turn: Do you appreciate God’s discipline? Are you enjoying the fruit of self-discipline?

Excerpt 18 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

14 Wednesday Mar 2018

Posted by in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Lent, Mid-Week Medtiation

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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, rides back into Jerusalem on horseback. As he rides his mind turns over his thoughts about Jesus of Nazareth. Date: Near noon on Thursday, April 6th, 30 A.D.

We continued on to the fortress, but my mind was on the Northern Messiah. His penetrating eyes haunted my thoughts. There was a power there that I had no ability to fathom. I was reminded of Ruth’s words. Ruth was one of our household servants, a Jewish girl. When at the supper table I had told Zelda about Jesus and his miraculous powers, Ruth’s eyes brightened. I asked her if she knew anything about this man.
biblical-fiction-award-2017_orig“Oh, yes,” she’d said. “Almost a year ago he healed a blind beggar from the Lower City. Jesus made some mud, put it on the beggar’s eyes, and sent him to wash in the Pool of Siloam. When he washed, he could see. It was a miracle. I’ve seen this man myself. I know it’s true,” she earnestly avowed.
When I’d asked her about this power Jesus had and where it came from, she bowed her head and answered, “From God.”
But she seemed somehow uncomfortable with her answer. She added, “It must be from God. He does good things. But our leaders aren’t sure. They think it may be demon power. But demons don’t heal the sick.”
Maybe the religious leaders were right. Maybe it was demonic power that made the blind see. It seemed preposterous. But why had I heard this voice? Why did this man trouble me so? Thinking of him seemed to stir up nothing but torment within me, and I didn’t even know why. I felt strangely attracted to him, yet at the same time repelled.
Then there was this talk about the kingdom of God. Maybe Timaeus was right about this prophet. The words of the wealthy merchant came back to me: “You don’t talk about a kingdom in this place and get away with it. Rome will see to that!”
Maybe we would see to it. Maybe we should see to it soon. But Jesus’s enemies were the same pompous, self-serving leaders I despised. He had aligned himself with the common man, with the poor, the oppressed, the sick and suffering. And he didn’t just champion their cause for personal benefit like some crass politician lobbying for the emperor’s favor. No, he healed them. He fed them. He walked with them, ate with them. He was one of them. He was their king, whether he wore a crown or not. I saw that clearly when he entered on the donkey. He was the donkey king. A horse would have put him above the crowd. A horse would have meant elevating himself like all the other egotistical men who led in this upside-down world.
In his case others would have to do the elevating.
The meaning of his entry on Sunday came clear to me now. It was a perspective gained from my comfortable perch on the back of my own noble steed.
By the time I reached the fortress for the second time in the week, I resolved to shut this Messiah out of my mind. He didn’t fit any of my categories for human behavior or religious thought. He was beyond understanding, an unwelcome intruder into my city and my thought life.

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Excerpt 17 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

13 Tuesday Mar 2018

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

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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 Jonas the tax collector. They discuss the news of the week, namely the huge stir that Jesus has caused in Jerusalem since his triumphal entry into the city. Date: Early morning April 6th, 30 A.D.

As I descended the stairs of the gate, I caught sight of Jonas and his son, unoccupied at the customs booth. With a quick wave of my hand, I signaled my intention to speak with him, and after taking the salute of the sentinels at the gate, I headed straight to the booth. “Good morning, you old goat!” I called out as I approached.
“Well, if it isn’t the top dog himself,” he shot back.
“It’s always good to see a man standing around doing nothing. It sets me at ease,” I said. “Ease?” His eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah.” He nodded emphatically. “It’s been a week of ease all right. I’ve had my feet up all week.”
Of course, just the opposite was true, and it was true for both of us.
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“Do you think we could have a short word?” With a jerk of my head, I motioned in the direction of the road leading down the Kidron Valley.
“Sure,” he answered, and then with a glance and a nod to his son, he transferred responsibility to him. A light mist still hung over the lowest reaches of the valley, but the early-morning sun was promising to burn it off. The swallows nesting along the crevices in the city wall were engaged in a full-throated competition with the songbirds in the trees along the brook. Traffic to and from the city was just beginning to stir.
When we had gone a few paces beyond the gate, I spoke. “I just wanted to say thanks for the help with the Barabbas case.”
“Oh, don’t mention it.” There was relief in his voice. “I thought you were going to warn me about some new plot.”
“No, there’s no new plot.” I hesitated. “Let me rephrase that. There’s no new plot that I know about. You never can be sure what’s being hatched in this crazy city.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that. I guess we learned that with Barabbas.” Jonas nervously bit on the corner whiskers of his mustache, and then continued. “Now, that Galilean prophet? I’ve been losing sleep over him all week.”
“Harmless as a dove,” I said. “Harmless as a dove.”
“How do you know?”
“I checked him out myself on Monday, right back there in the temple courts.” I made a quick double-pump motion with my upraised thumb aimed over my shoulder. “Then on Tuesday I had Claudius in there with the prophet.”
“You Romans have more nerve than brains.” He kicked a loose pebble off the pathway, looked up at me with a quizzical grin, and then with an incredulous shake of his head, he repeated, “More nerve than brains, that’s all I can say.”
“If we didn’t have nerve, we wouldn’t be running this place. Or any other place for that matter.”
He shrugged, furrowed his brow, and then cocked his head to one side. It was his way of reluctantly conceding my point.
“So he’s harmless?”
“Harmless to us.” With my index finger, I pointed first at myself, then at Jonas, and then back again. “Caiaphas, on the other hand”—I paused for effect—“now there’s a man who I’m sure hasn’t slept well all week.”
“So you think the old rusty gate has lost some sleep? Over what?”
“Money. Money and prestige. It can’t look too good having some roving up-country rabbi come in and take over your temple at the religious high point of the year.”
“I suppose not,” Jonas said. But then he added, “You know this prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, he’s been here before. He kicked out the money changers a few years back. Caused quite a stir then. But nothing like this. He’s got the temple guards running scared. That’s what my uncle told me.”
James Tht“Your uncle’s right. I saw that firsthand on Monday. So what else do you know about this Galilean?”
“My wife tells me he’s a friend of tax collectors and sinners. She told me one of his disciples was a tax collector before he met the prophet.”
“Ah, tax collectors and sinners?” I responded with a wink and a nod. “Maybe there is hope for the two of us yet.”
Jonas smiled back at me. “So, Marcus, where is this all headed? Some people think he’s the Messiah. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, we’re well aware of that. But he doesn’t oppose paying taxes to Caesar.” I gave my tax collector a supportive thumbs-up signal. “And he hasn’t spoken a word against Rome since he’s been here.”
“That’s not a surprise. He knows better. You and your boys would have him nailed up on Golgotha the moment he did.”
“You’re right about that,” I agreed. “But I honestly don’t think he’s got a quarrel with us. He’s going after the parading hypocrites in long, flowing robes, those killjoy Pharisees and teachers of the law. You know the ones—the religious police who run this place.”

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Excerpt 16 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

12 Monday Mar 2018

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

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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 is in a discussion with his friend and fellow centurion, Renaldo. They are at the Roman bathhouse at the end of a long day. Date: Wednesday, April 5th, 30 A.D. 

I sat down again beside the pool and let my feet dangle in the tepid water. Renaldo put his hand on my shoulder as he eased himself down into a similar position.
“So what do you mean by that? How do you think this will end?” he asked.
“This Galilean prophet’s days may be numbered. He’s stirred up a hornet’s nest by kicking those merchants and money changers out of the temple. He’s offended and humiliated the high priest and his clan. He’s cut off a major source of their temple revenue. He called the Pharisees a brood of vipers. And if that’s not enough, he predicted that their power, their kingdom as he calls it, will be taken from them and then given to others.”
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I paused and kicked my right foot out straight, scattering a shower of drops onto the flat surface of the water. “You don’t say and do those kinds of things without creating some enemies. I’d say he’s sealed his own fate.”
With a furrowed brow, Renaldo asked, “Where’d you get this information?”
“Claudius. Claudius told me. Yesterday I had him sit in on one of the prophet’s teaching sessions. It was quite an eye- opener. Jesus doesn’t just heal the poor; he takes a skewer to the bloated rich. He’s publicly opposed the rich and powerful in this town, and his opposition has been right to their face. If nothing else, the man’s got courage.”
I drummed my fingers on the poolside tiles and then continued. “I tell you, Renaldo, they won’t stand for it. They’re probably hatching some plot to do away with him right now, as we’re sitting here talking.”
“Yeah, but he healed all those kids,” he said. “Doesn’t that show that the God of heaven is working through him?”
“The God of heaven? Do you honestly think that matters to them? This is all about money and power. That’s their real god. Jesus is a threat to their money and their positions of power. Healing a few poor kids, the offspring of the unclean—that isn’t going to mean a thing to them. You’re right. You hit the nail on the head. They’re puffed- up swine that care only about themselves. There isn’t a drop of mercy in them.” Then with scathing irony I added, “But they’re right. They’re always right. Right to the letter of the law.”
“So what do you think they’ll do?”
“I’m not sure. But I know what they won’t do. They won’t arrest him with that crowd around him. They know better than that. They’d have a bloody riot on their hands. There’s no doubt about that.”
Thought after thought came racing in as I considered the implications of my own words. “They might wait till after Passover when the crowds leave, but then Jesus would probably leave with the crowds and head right back to Galilee. Then he’d be out of their hands. No.” I hesitated and then briskly snapped my fingers. “I think they’ll try to act now, if they can. He’s humiliated them in front of the people. They won’t stand for that. Caiaphas won’t stand for it. Jesus has co- opted the high priest’s authority right within the temple courts. Blood will flow because of it. Mark my words. It will flow.”
“But what could they do to him? What crime has he committed?” Renaldo reasoned. “You know the Jews can’t condemn a man to death. They can’t have him crucified. They would have to bring him before Pilate.”
“Yes,” I said, “but accidents happen in the dark of the night. And Renaldo, I think you underestimate the old Weasel. If anyone can twist the law to his own liking, Caiaphas can. That Weasel can kill his prey in more than one way. The big question is, can he get his hands on the prophet?”
“So you really think there’ll be a confrontation?”
“Absolutely. From what I saw on Monday, the confrontation has already started. ItCentur Rep started when Jesus kicked out the merchants. Later, when I was there, the high priest’s men questioned him, but he wouldn’t back down. Then yesterday, according to Claudius, he humiliated Caiaphas and his delegation right in front of the crowd. Like I said, he called the Pharisees and the teachers of the law a pack of hypocrites and a brood of vipers. I’d call that a confrontation. And he didn’t do it out in the desert; he did it right in front of them, in front of the pilgrims, and right in their holy place. I tell you, the man’s got guts.”
“But”—I paused to emphasize my point—“I’m just waiting for the other side to strike back. And they will.”
I made a long, sweeping motion with a pointed index finger and then stabbed down spear-like into my friend’s bare ribs. “I’m sure they will.” Instinctively Renaldo recoiled, shrugged off my antics, and then said,
“But you don’t think he’s a threat to Rome?”
“Not from what I’ve seen or heard. But he is a threat to Caiaphas. Right now he’s their problem. And that’s where I want to leave him. If blood’s going to flow, I don’t want it getting on these hands.”

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

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Excerpt 15 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

09 Friday Mar 2018

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

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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 continues his conversation with his nephew, the young soldier Claudius. Claudius is reporting on the activities and the message of Jesus of Nazareth on Tuesday of Holy Week.

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.
Free WWe SHARABLE-1 (2)“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.”

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Excerpt 14 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

08 Thursday Mar 2018

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

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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 is in conversation with his nephew, the young soldier Claudius. Claudius is reporting on the activities and the message of Jesus of Nazareth on Tuesday of Holy Week.

Claudius went on. “One thing I do know for sure: those fancy-robed religious leaders don’t like him much. Jesus had taught for a while this morning, when all of a sudden the high priest, along with maybe ten other officials, came marching in. They demanded to know by what authority he was doing these things.

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A Roman centurion

He didn’t answer them, but instead he asked them a question. He asked them, ‘By what authority did John baptize?’ They talked it over and then said, ‘We don’t know.’ So he said he wouldn’t answer their question either. They just turned around and left in a holy huff. You could really tell the crowd around Jesus just loved the way he handled these high and mighty holy types.” Claudius abruptly turned to me and asked, “Who was this John anyway?”
“A few years back he caused quite a stir. Thousands of people went out to the Jordan River to hear him. He insisted that people repent, turn from their sins, and then he would baptize them in the river. Even some of my own men went out to hear him. In the end, Herod the tetrarch had him beheaded.”
After reflecting a moment on the day’s events, I caustically commented, “That bloody old Fox hasn’t changed much.”
“Anyway,” Claudius continued, “from then on Jesus would teach for a while, and then some new high-powered delegation would arrive to question him. They weren’t sincere in their questions. It was like they were trying to trap him into saying something they could later use against him. That’s all I think they were after. But in the end Jesus always turned the tables on them. He exposed their real motives. He saw right through them.”
I felt a certain remembered discomfort when Claudius said those words. After all, Jesus’s eyes had shone a light on the darkness of my own soul. I don’t know why I felt so naked, so transparent before this man.
“But, Claudius, what makes you so sure he’s not here to kick out the Romans?”
“It was the way he answered one of those fancy-robed delegations. They asked him if it was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar. He called them hypocrites right to their faces. He accused them of trying to trap him. Then he asked for a coin. He demanded to know biblical-fiction-award-2017_origwhose portrait and inscription were on it. When they answered, ‘Caesar’s,’ he jumped on them—like a cat onto a nest of mice. ‘So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s,’ he told them. Even at a distance, I could see their mouths drop and their ears catch fire. They left like cowering dogs with their tails between their legs.”
Claudius became even more animated as he said, “The crowd—the crowd loved it. You could really tell the people loved seeing those phony religious officials get a taste of a little humility. I’m sure they haven’t tasted it for a good long while.”
Then to conclude, he said, “That’s why I don’t think he’s a threat to us. He’s not opposed to paying taxes. Nothing he said all day makes me think he’s got a quarrel with Rome. But he’s sure got the religious leaders worried and bothered. Later in the day he went after them full force. Called them hypocrites, blind guides, a brood of vipers!”
“Ooo! I’m sure they were pleased,” I said sarcastically.
This assessment confirmed what Renaldo and I had been thinking. I had heard the same thing reflected back to me by Flavio. This latest evidence on taxes lent considerable weight to the conclusion Claudius had drawn. But I still felt uneasy. Jesus simply struck me as such a huge, larger-than-life figure—the kind of person you don’t dismiss lightly, no matter what others say. I somehow felt that all we had done thus far was scratch the surface. I’m not sure I really understood him at all. How could I begin to fathom what he was trying to accomplish?

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The Anointed One

05 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by in Bible, Devotionals, Psalm 89, Psalms

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Reading:                                      Psalm 89

(Verses 46-52)
How long, LORD? Will you hide yourself forever?
How long will your wrath burn like fire?
Remember how fleeting is my life.
For what futility you have created all humanity!
Who can live and not see death,
or who can escape the power of the grave?
Lord, where is your former great love,
which in your faithfulness you swore to David?
Remember, Lord, how your servant has been mocked,
how I bear in my heart the taunts of all the nations,
the taunts with which your enemies, LORD, have mocked,
with which they have mocked every step of your anointed one.
Praise be to the LORD forever!
Amen and Amen (NIV).

Reflection
Many people believe that Christ is Jesus’ last name. That is not the case. The Bible does not tell us Jesus’ family name. Often he is identified by the town that he is from—Jesus of Nazareth. So what then is the significance of the word Christ or Khristos in the Greek? Christ is a title. One might even call it a job description. It means the anointed one, the one who is designated by God to rule and reign over his people. The Greek word Khristos or Christ corresponds to the Hebrew word Mashiach or Messiah. The anointed one or Christ was and is the son of David who rules over the house of Jacob and the Israel of God. Just as David was anointed to be king of Israel, Jesus is anointed to be our king.

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End of winter glory — photo by David Kitz

When we read Psalm 89 with the understanding that the anointed one is also the Christ, the psalm takes on a whole new layer of meaning. Yes, during the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians, the anointed one was mocked. But this is also true of Jesus, the anointed Son of David, who was led off to be crucified outside the city gate. These words were fulfilled in Christ: Remember, Lord, how your servant has been mocked, how I bear in my heart the taunts of all the nations, the taunts with which your enemies, LORD, have mocked, with which they have mocked every step of your anointed one.

But there is a significant difference between the Old Testament, anointed one, and our New Testament Christ. The psalmist asks this question: Who can live and not see death, or who can escape the power of the grave?

The implicit answer is that no one can escape death and the grave. But… but there is One—One, who tasted death on our behalf—One, who escaped the power of the grave. His name is Jesus. He is the Christ, the anointed One, and our Messiah. He is the One who by virtue of the resurrection is King now and forevermore.

Response: LORD God, I thank you for Jesus, the Christ, the anointed One. Thank you for your death, burial and resurrection. I join with the psalmist in saying, “Praise be to the LORD forever! Amen and Amen.”

Your Turn: In what way is Christ a job description? What job has he done and is he doing for you?

Bill Pink’s Review of The Soldier Who Killed a King

03 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by in book review, Books by David Kitz, Good Friday, Lent, Psalms

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It is hard to imagine a more ironic, more chilling dramatic exclamation than the confession of Jesus’ executioner, “Surely, He was the Son of God” (Matt. 27:54).  In The Soldier, David Kitz gives a name to the Roman executioner – Marcus Longinus. Then he gives us an hour-by-hour account of the week in Marcus’ life in the run-up to the fatal hammer blows that drove spikes into Jesus’ broken body.

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            As I began to read The Soldier, I wondered if it would be a fascinating documentary of the last week of Jesus’ ministry on Earth. Fascinating it is. The sights, sounds and smells of the Jewish Passover week come to life, from the noisy, smelly commerce in sacrificial animals to the literal river of red sacrificial blood flowing through the temple aqueducts.

Political forces delicately dance in Jerusalem. High Priest Caiaphas, Samaritan King Herod Antipas, and Roman Governor Pontius Pilate, cordial but venomous enemies, vie for control of the holy city. We see and hear the week unfold through Marcus’ eyes and ears. He fears for the very lives of his men as tumultuous crowds swell Jerusalem. Two were recently murdered by Zealot terrorists. Crowds quickly become mobs, and only the iron discipline of his small garrison insulates the city from disaster.

The Soldier soon becomes more than a documentary. Marcus becomes a man we know intimately as husband, father and brave military officer. We see his family and career jeopardized by the mental anguish of post traumatic stress disorder. Horrific visions of bloody murders populate Marcus’ dreams at night and force contemplation of suicide by day.

Jesus rides into this mix of professional anxiety and personal anguish on a donkey. From a great distance He picks Marcus out of a crowd of thousands and speaks audibly to him alone and to him specifically, saying, “I have a future for you.” During the week, Marcus is repelled by Jesus and drawn to Jesus. He fears Jesus’ power over the crowds. He is the dumbfounded eye witness to Jesus’ healing miracles. He rejoices while Jesus humiliates moneychangers and Pharisees. He hopes Jesus will be acquitted by Pilate. He feels almost personally betrayed when Jesus might have saved Himself, but deliberately does not.  Ordered to crucify Jesus, Marcus does so obediently and resolutely.

I could empathize with Marcus. Like Marcus, I was a career soldier. Like him, I had superiors I admired and those I did not. I had peers who were my friends and those I loathed.  I worried about missions I was given when they endangered subordinates I was responsible for, and, admittedly, when they jeopardized my career if they failed. Unlike Marcus, I have not literally whipped my Savior and pierced his flesh with nails. But like Marcus, my personal sins have caused Jesus to suffer pain on the cross.

The Soldier is a two-fold page turner. It is better than an exciting read. Those of usbiblical-fiction-award-2017_orig blessed with a lifetime of church have heard the story of Christ’s trial and crucifixion as often as our lives have seen Easter Sundays. We have read the Biblical account, in all four gospels, many times. Yet, as I turned the pages of The Soldier, eagerly, I also found myself compulsively turning the pages of the Bible to sort out exactly which details of that week Kitz lifts literally from Scripture and which tidbits his imagination supplies. The blend is seamless. For instance, the lame boy Christ heals in Scripture becomes Kitz’ Lucas, a three-dimensional character twice cursed by the world and twice miraculously loved by Christ. What Christian author hopes for more than for it to be said that his work sends readers scurrying into the pages of the Holy Bible?

We are all Marcus. All of us, like Marcus, have heard Jesus promise us a future. We have all been drawn to Jesus and been afraid of Jesus; we have rejoiced with Jesus, and we have all felt alone when our lives spiraled out of control in sin and remorse. Jesus has stretched out His hands to all of us, and, like Marcus, we have all driven spikes into them. When we read David Kitz’s The Soldier Who Killed a King, we too, confess, “Surely, He is the Son of God.”

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.