Tag Archives: Passover

Our True Identity

02 Wednesday Jun 2021

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Reading: Psalm 134
A song of ascents.
Praise the LORD, all you servants of the LORD
who minister by night in the house of the LORD.
Lift up your hands in the sanctuary
and praise the LORD.
May the LORD bless you from Zion,
he who is the Maker of heaven and earth (NIV).*

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Garden glory — photo by David Kitz

Reflection
This is the fifteenth and final psalm in the Songs of Ascent series. In reality, this psalm is the pilgrims’ farewell offering of worship to the LORD.  After a week or more in Jerusalem, the time has arrived for the pilgrims to return to their homes. But on the evening before they set out on the return journey, they make one last visit to Mount Zion and the great Temple of the LORD. There they lift their hands in praise to the God of Israel. Early next morning, they will begin the arduous journey back home. But for now, it’s time to bless the LORD and offer thanks.

It is likely that the twelve-year-old Jesus sang this psalm with his parents on the final evening of their Passover pilgrimage to Jerusalem. On the following day the family departed for Nazareth where Joseph would resume his trade as a carpenter. When they left the next morning, they assumed Jesus was traveling with them in the large company of other pilgrims from their hometown. See Luke 2:41-52.

Typically, we read this account of the lost twelve-year-old Jesus from the viewpoint of a parent. We identify with the stress of losing a child in a big city. We would title this story, “Mary and Joseph find lost Jesus.” But the story reads quite differently, when we view it from the perspective of a child trying to discover who he really is. Viewed from Jesus’ perspective the title of the story might well be, “Lost Boy finds Himself” or “Lost Boy Discovers His Divinity.”

How did Jesus discover he was the son of God? Some believers might well reason that the answer is obvious. Jesus is God; therefore, he is omniscient. The all-knowing Jesus would surely know that he was God’s son. But many theologians would beg to differ. They view the humanity of Christ as all pervasive. Jesus was 100% human and as such he needed to learn and discover his identity even as any child does.

If through the incarnation Jesus fully took on humanity, then the boy Jesus needed to discover his divine identity. It may have been written into every fiber of his being, but he still needed to discover it, just as any young musical prodigy needs to explore and discover his or her gift. All divine gifts must be discovered and developed to reach their maximum potential.

How do we discover our true identity? From the account in Luke, it would appear that the boy Jesus discovered his true identity in the House of God. Perhaps it began as he lifted his hands in worship. We cannot fully discover who we are until we discover who God is. We must know our Creator to know ourselves. Self-understanding begins with knowing whose we are. You and I belong to the Father.

Response: Father God, I thank you for loving me and inviting me into your family. Lord Jesus, thank you for purchasing my redemption. Holy Spirit, I thank you for the confirmation that I am your child. Amen.

Your Turn: Do you know who you are? How is God the Father shaping your identity?

* NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION, COPYRIGHT ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 BY BIBLICA

Volume II of Psalms 365: Develop a Life of Worship and Prayer by award-winning author David Kitz is available now. For a closer look at Volumes I and II click here.

This Is All about Money and Power

31 Wednesday Mar 2021

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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, from The Soldier Who Killed a King, 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’tCenturion best 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. It 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.”

For book purchases, or a closer look at The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, 288-page, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

Here’s a journey to the cross and the open tomb you will never forget.

“Stretch out your leg!”

29 Monday Mar 2021

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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?

It is the morning of the second day of Passover Week. In today’s reading, Marcus the centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, is enthralled as he watches Jesus heal a beggar boy. 

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 only seldom walked.

For book purchases or a closer look at The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, 288-page, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

Here’s a journey to the cross and the open tomb you will never forget.

This Was a Coup

28 Sunday Mar 2021

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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 Longinus the centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, joins the throng of Jesus followers as enters the temple courts. It is the morning of the second day of Passover Week.

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.4485 SHARABLE-1
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.
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.”

For book purchases and a closer look at The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, 288-page, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

Here’s a journey to the cross and the open tomb you will never forget.

It’s Like God Is Talking to Me

27 Saturday Mar 2021

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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 Longinus the centurion, disguised in his civilian clothes, is waiting by the city gate for the arrival of Jesus. It is the morning of the second day of Passover Week.

Then someone ahead of me pointed and yelled, “That’s him! He’s coming!”
Necks craned. I raised my hand to shade my eyes. Just over the brow of the hill, a figure in white rabbinical robes was beginning his descent into the Kidron Valley. It soon became apparent he was not alone. A clutch of young bearded men surrounded him, and trailing behind was an assortment of wives, children, and barking dogs of both types, canine and human. The whole entourage may have numbered a hundred twenty. There was no donkey today and, to my relief, no thronging thousands. I’m sure there was a collective sigh of relief above the gate as well.
The near-giddy anticipation of these spectators was something I had not expected. I was surprised to find myself caught up in it. The front edges of the crowd by the wall surged forward to line the roadside. Meanwhile, others continued to pour through the gate.
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The man to my left stepped forward, planting his foot on my toes. I grunted in pain and instinctively pushed my thumb and knuckles into his ribs. This brought the desired relief, and the man turned to face me. It was the man with the boy on his shoulders.
“My toes!” I gestured.
“Sorry, my friend.”
I felt slightly embarrassed by the gruffness of my response. “You’re waiting to see Jesus,” I offered, stating the obvious.
“Yeah. The kids are crazy about him.” He nodded in the direction of the brood to my right. “It’s all they talked about since we came yesterday.”
I could tell from his accent that he was from Galilee, so I continued. “Do you know much about him? See, I’m a Passover pilgrim from Alexandria in Egypt. All I know is what I saw yesterday.”
“That was incredible!” he enthused. “Did you see him come in on the donkey? That’s fulfillment of a prophecy.”
Then he took on a more distant, thoughtful look, and he began to quote. “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!” And now his eyes brightened. “See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious.” He slowed for emphasis, and with his free hand stabbed the air. “Lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
It always amazed me how these people memorized their Scriptures. “So, do you think he’s”—I hesitated—“the Christ?”
“Shh!” He gestured with a finger to his lips and a glance to the wall. “Or the stones will hear.”
He continued. “There is no one like him. He drives out demons. He heals the sick. Even the dead have been raised. And yesterday”—his voice raced with excitement— “yesterday I saw this with my own eyes. He healed a man born blind.”
Seeing my interest, he pressed on.
“In the morning, we were leaving Jericho, the whole throng from Galilee, and by the side of the road was this blind beggar. He was yelling, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Jesus stopped and touched the man’s eyes.”
He made as though he would touch my eyes.
“And he was healed!” His own bright eyes beamed at me as he smiled broadly. The boy on his shoulders also joined in his father’s enthusiasm as for the first time he smiled down at me.
We began to reposition ourselves, for the object of our conversation was now drawing near.
He nudged my shoulder. “And when he speaks, it’s like God is talking to me. None of the rabbis speak like him. It’s like he has seen heaven and heard the voice of the Holy One.” A girl in her teens near the front edge of the crowd shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”
Soon others joined in. The masses surged around him, and together we squeezed through the Messiah Gate and pressed on toward the temple.

For book purchases and a closer look at The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, 288-page, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

Here’s a journey to the cross and the open tomb you will never forget.

“Hosanna to the Son of David!”

24 Wednesday Mar 2021

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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?Soldier800kb

I could see him clearly now. Donkey or not, he had the look of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Those about him might not know or understand, but he knew. He had a destination in mind, a purpose. You could see it on his face.
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
There was something else different about him. At the time I didn’t know what it was. I couldn’t put it into words for a long time. I think I noticed it because I had watched all those other men come into Rome in their triumphal processionals. They were conquerors, but still they were hollow men, feeding off the adulation of the crowd, thirsting but never satisfied. You could see them vainly drink it in, hoping it would somehow fill the empty soul.
This donkey-riding king wasn’t drinking from the crowd. I somehow sensed he was full already, and what he had within must have come from a different source.
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
Just at that moment a strange feeling seemed to rise within me. Maybe it was the joy of the crowd. I had expected anger. Maybe it was the children waving palm branches or the spontaneity of the singing? I don’t know. For one moment it all seemed to come together. It seemed right somehow. Like heaven and earth had finally, for a moment, come into agreement—an agreement that had never been achieved before.
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
He was much closer now.
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
He was now within the shadow of the gate.
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
At that moment he looked up. For an instant our eyes met. Then I heard a voice—clearly heard a voice say, “I have a future for you.”
I was confused.
I turned to Claudius and said, “What did you mean by that?”
“What did I mean by what?” He had a blank look on his face.
“By what you said about—about the future?”
“I didn’t say anything about the future, sir. I didn’t say anything.”
I was totally baffled. Was I hearing voices? This whole thing was making no sense, no sense at all. Passover pilgrims weren’t supposed to come into the city this way. We had a revolutionary on the loose—riding a donkey. And now I was hearing things?
I rubbed the sweat from my forehead, hoping for some clarity to emerge.
I had a hundred men whose lives were in danger from this Jewish Messiah and his horde of followers. That was what mattered.
By this time the donkey man had passed under the gate and was heading in the direction of the temple in the heart of the city.
I signaled for Claudius to follow as I raced down the stairs of the gatehouse. I emerged onto the street and grabbed the first two-legged bit of Jewish scum I saw. Pressing him against the stone wall, I demanded, “Who is that man?”
I pointed at the retreating figure on the donkey.
The poor wretch was in shock and seemed quite unable to get out a word.
Claudius reached for his sword.
“Je- Jesus of Nazareth,” he stammered and then quickly added, “the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”
I loosened my grip. Then in a voice loud enough for all near to hear, I announced, “Well, there is one thing I do know. We’re going to have to keep an eye on that man.”
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For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, 288-page, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

Here’s a journey to the cross and the open tomb you will never forget.

Four in the afternoon, Sunday, April 2, AD 30

23 Tuesday Mar 2021

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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.

For book purchases of The Soldier Who Killed a King try Amazon or christianbook.com.

To download a free study guide for this high-impact, 288-page, bible-based novel visit: https://www.davidkitz.ca/centurion.php/free study guide PDF

Here’s a journey to the cross and the open tomb you will never forget.

Our Redeemer

08 Wednesday Jan 2020

Posted by in Devotionals, Psalm 136, Psalms

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Reading: Psalm 136
(Verses 10-16)
to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt
His love endures forever.
and brought Israel out from among them
His love endures forever.
with a mighty hand and outstretched arm;
His love endures forever.
to him who divided the Red Sea asunder
His love endures forever.
and brought Israel through the midst of it,
His love endures forever.
but swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea;
His love endures forever.
to him who led his people through the wilderness;
His love endures forever (NIV).

christ the redeemer brazil

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Reflection
Because of the responsive pattern employed by the psalmist, today’s reading from Psalm 136 begins as an incomplete sentence. When combined with yesterday’s reading, the full sentence reads: Give thanks to the Lord of lords, to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt, and brought Israel out from among them with a mighty hand and outstretched arm.

Whereas yesterday’s reading from Psalm 136 celebrates the wonders of God’s creation, today’s reading celebrates the wonders of God’s redemption of Israel. The LORD delivered the captive souls of Israel from hard labor and slavery in Egypt. Though the eldest child of the Egyptians perished, the Hebrew children were spared from the Angel of Death, because the blood of the Passover lamb was applied to the doorposts of their home. See Exodus 12.

At a grim Passover celebration 2,000 years ago, Jesus suffered and died on the cross as our Passover Lamb. When we place our faith in his sacrificial blood, we too are spared from death. Jesus tasted death on our behalf, so that we can live eternally with him.  As believers we can rejoice and draw comfort from these words. “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:55-57).

Through the blood of Christ the power of Satan is broken and we are brought into the dominion of the Son of God. For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins (Colossians 1:13-14).

Surely as redeemed children of God—children personally redeemed by the Son of God—we have this testimony: His love endures forever. 

Response: Father God, I thank you for redeeming me with the sacred blood of Jesus. I have been adopted into your family. You are my heavenly Father. I can never thank you enough. Amen.

Your Turn: Are you living in a new kingdom, under a new king—King Jesus?

Olive Shoots Around your Table

19 Thursday Dec 2019

Posted by in Devotionals, Psalm 128, Psalms

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Reading: Psalm 128
A song of ascents.
Blessed are all who fear the LORD,
who walk in obedience to him.
You will eat the fruit of your labor;
blessings and prosperity will be yours.
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine
within your house;
your children will be like olive shoots
around your table.
Yes, this will be the blessing
for the man who fears the LORD.
May the LORD bless you from Zion;
may you see the prosperity of Jerusalem
all the days of your life.
May you live to see your children’s children—
peace be on Israel (NIV).

light sunset people water

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Reflection
I got an unexpected call from my son yesterday morning. “Can we have lunch together today?” he asked.

“Sure,” I responded without hesitation. Who can say no to such a request? We went out to a pizza place for their buffet lunch. We enjoyed a leisurely conversation. There was no urgency to our discussion. He shared a few minor work frustrations, while I did the same. This was simply a father and son enjoying each other’s company, talking a little sports and discussing whatever came to mind.

According to Psalm 128, I was appreciating one of the olive shoots around my table. Now that’s a unique way to view your son or daughter. Children are a blessing, and when adult children enjoy spending time with their parents that’s a double blessing. At a time when many adult children are estranged from their parents or separated by long distances, the opportunity to spend time together at the drop of a hat is a real blessing. As a parent you are enjoying the fruit of your labor. You are reaping the rewards from years spent pouring into the lives of your children.

This is the ninth psalm of the series of psalms known as Songs of Ascent or Psalms of Ascent. These were psalms used by pilgrims as they made the annual trek to Jerusalem for celebrations such as the Feast of Tabernacles or the Passover.

In some respects, these ancient holy days roughly correspond to our present day holidays such as Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Families today often make long journeys to celebrate together what at their core are religious holidays. Family togetherness is a central feature of such events. We should not be surprised then that this entire psalm highlights the blessings of family unity.

It should be noted that the blessings of family begin with obedience and the fear of the LORD.

Response: Father God, I love my family. I am so blessed to have children who love you, Lord. Watch over them, I pray. Keep their hearts tender before you. Help them to daily hear your voice. Guide their steps. Amen.

Your Turn: Are you estranged from family members? Can you build a bridge back to that loved one?

Ash Wednesday: The Journey Begins

06 Wednesday Mar 2019

Posted by in Books by David Kitz, 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?

Four in the afternoon, Sunday, April 2, AD 30
It was never like this before. biblical-fiction-award-2017_orig
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

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