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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.
It 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.
“No . . . They’ve never done this before.” There was worry in my voice. Claudius had been recently assigned to this place, the festering armpit of the empire, and I was at a loss to explain what was happening before us. We were standing on the wall above the gate of Jerusalem, and less than a half mile away, we could see the jubilant pilgrims surging toward us in alarming numbers.
“They’re laying the palm branches on the road in front of that man—the man on the donkey.”
Until Claudius said it, I hadn’t noticed the donkey. Its small size and the frenzy of activity round about must have obscured this detail in the picture before me. What an odd way for this man to come. I could make no sense of it.
“They’re throwing down their cloaks before him.”
The sweat- glistened bodies of several men were clearly visible. Outer garments were being cast down before this man as a sign of homage. At the same time the rhythmic chanting of their voices became more distinct.
What were they singing? Could I pick up the words?
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
That’s when it hit me like a barbarian’s club. I realized what I was witnessing. It was a triumphal entry—the entry of a king.
It was the words. The words they were now boisterously shouting. He was their Messiah. The Son of David! The one they were waiting for! The one who would rid them of the Romans. He would set up his glorious Jewish kingdom, here, in Jerusalem! This is what I had been warned about since the day I first set foot on this cursed Judean soil. And we, I and my men and the garrison in the city, were all that stood in their way.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF
To purchase or for a closer look at this 5 star biblical account click here. Or here.

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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 

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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?”
determination I saw on the first day I set eyes on him, the day he rode the donkey into this city. I could still see he had a destination in mind. Some mystical purpose he somehow felt compelled to fulfill.
air. This was verging on a riot, a point that was surely obvious to the governor, yet he played them on.
brought by—”