Tag Archives: repentance

Do We Remember?

03 Thursday May 2018

Posted by in Bible, Devotionals, God's word, Psalm 106, Psalms

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Reading:                                    Psalm 106                                                          

(Verses 16-27)
In the camp they grew envious of Moses
and of Aaron, who was consecrated to the LORD.
The earth opened up and swallowed Dathan;
it buried the company of Abiram.
Fire blazed among their followers; a flame consumed the wicked.
At Horeb they made a calf and worshiped an idol cast from metal.
They exchanged their glorious God
for an image of a bull, which eats grass.
They forgot the God who saved them,
who had done great things in Egypt,
miracles in the land of Ham and awesome deeds by the Red Sea.
So he said he would destroy them—
had not Moses, his chosen one,
stood in the breach before him
to keep his wrath from destroying them.
Then they despised the pleasant land;
they did not believe his promise.
They grumbled in their tents and did not obey the LORD.
So he swore to them with uplifted hand
that he would make them fall in the wilderness,
make their descendants fall among the nations
and scatter them throughout the lands (NIV).

Reflection
Annually we pause to commemorate Veterans Day in United States, or Remembrance Day as it is known in Canada. That day was chosen to honor and remember our fallen soldiers because November 11, 1918 marked the end of the First World War. It is fitting that we remember those who sacrificed their lives in the defense of their country and its way of life. To forget them would be a disgrace to them and to the nation. We owe our liberty to these brave men and women. Lest we forget is the oft repeated motto of this day of solemn remembrance.

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Window of Life – photo courtesy of Donald Adam

Today’s reading from Psalm 106 highlights the importance of a nation’s collective memory. Israel was redeemed and set free from slavery in Egypt by the miracle working power of God, yet in a few short years they forgot, or chose to ignore the LORD who rescued them. They forgot the God who saved them, who had done great things in Egypt, miracles in the land of Ham and awesome deeds by the Red Sea.

There are serious consequences for the nation that forgets, or turns its back on the God who called its people out of darkness. The same is true on a personal level. We need to routinely remind ourselves that Jesus paid the ultimate price to redeem us and make us his very own.

Response: Father God, I thank you for my personal redemption. Lead me in the right path for my life. Guide our nation. May there be a collective turning to you in repentance and faith. Amen.

Your Turn: Is there such a thing as national redemption or salvation, or is it always personal?

Do you have a blameless heart?

05 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by in Bible, Devotionals, Psalm 101, Psalms

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Reading:                                     Psalm 101                                                                   

Of David. A psalm.
(Verses 1-4)
I will sing of your love and justice;
to you, LORD, I will sing praise.
I will be careful to lead a blameless life—
when will you come to me?
I will conduct the affairs of my house
with a blameless heart.
I will not look with approval
on anything that is vile.
I hate what faithless people do;
I will have no part in it.
The perverse of heart shall be far from me;
I will have nothing to do with what is evil (NIV).

Reflection
Psalm 101 is a call to action or commitment. David, the author of this psalm, commits himself to a course of action. In this short opening portion of the psalm, David makes seven ‘I will’ statements. Each commitment is life altering in some way.

2018-04-04 Liz Kranz

Early April snowfall — photo courtesy of Liz Kranz

The first commitment David makes is to sing of the LORD’s justice and love. He is determined to praise his God with a full, joyous awareness of the LORD’s character. This is the true starting point of any sustained relationship with God. The LORD is both loving and just. If we emphasize aspects of God’s justice too much, we risk becoming legalistic. If we focus only on the love of God, His holiness is ignored resulting in a break down in personal responsibility. Within the Godhead there exists a perfect tension between His justice and His love. As God’s servants, we do well when we recognize and maintain that tension.

Twice David uses the word blameless. I will be careful to lead a blameless life—when will you come to me? I will conduct the affairs of my house with a blameless heart. With these words, David has set for himself a high standard—an impossible standard. Did David succeed in reaching his lofty goal? The biblical record leaves no room for doubt. He failed miserably. In his affair with Bathsheba, King David was guilty of both adultery and murder.

Well, what good is there then in setting lofty goals? Why make any ‘I will’ statements, if I am doomed to fail? Why not freely look on the vile and indulge in it?

Actually, despite David’s stunning failures, there are many sound reasons for calling ourselves to a high standard. To put it bluntly, God expects it of us. He demands holiness from us—always has—always will. Will we succeed? Of course not. That’s why there’s the gift of repentance. That’s why there’s a Savior named Jesus. He’s the blameless one. I need his sinless record applied to my account.

Response: Dear God, I want my will to be conformed to your will. I want to lead a blameless life. By Jesus’ blood, grant me a blameless heart that is determined to love and serve you for all my days. Amen.

Your Turn: Should we set goals for ourselves? How do you measure the progress in your love for God?

Excerpt 32 for Easter from The Soldier Who Killed a King

01 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Easter Sunday, 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?

Date: Nine in the morning, Sunday, April 9, 30 A.D.
Marcus Longinus, the Roman centurion, investigates his soldiers’ report that Jesus had risen from the dead.

It was as they said. The stone was rolled away. But it was not merely rolled to the side as I had expected. It had been pushed right up and out of its stone track, and it had toppled over a good distance from the tomb entrance.
I edged my way toward it. About two paces from the end of the stone track, there was gouge in the shallow soil, where the round cover stone had landed and then rolled. This was a real headshaker. How had this happened? It must have been rolled back with such force that when it reached the end of the track, it bounced up and out. No wonder the men were scared! This was awesome. Forty men could not do this!
Suddenly I felt very small, small and afraid.

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Photo credit Jean Levac, Ottawa Citizen

And this was the very stone we had sealed just a day earlier. A close examination showed that in a few spots there were still fragments of broken plaster on it.I exhaled a huge puff of air. This discovery in itself was beyond all expectation. The force of the quake could not have done this. A quake of such magnitude would have collapsed the tomb itself, and not a building in the city would be standing. No, a direct force had hurled this boulder away from the tomb’s entrance.
An almighty warrior from heaven’s realm?
I rejoined my two men. Suddenly they gained a new level of respect in my eyes. Their fears had become my own. I found I was rolling my head from side to side just as I had seen Claudius do.

“You saw this happen?” I gestured to the fallen round rock and then put a finger to my lips. I was astounded.
“Actually,” Philip admitted, “I didn’t see him roll the stone. We all fell like dead men when the earthquake hit. But after, when I opened my eyes, the angel was sitting on it, and . . . and Jesus was walking out of the tomb.” He fell to his knees and began to beat the ground as he said this last part. He was gripped afresh by the memory.
“Where were you when this happened?” He raised his head and pointed to a spot a few paces away. “Right there.”
“And you?” I looked at Claudius. He pointed to another spot. “Just over here,” he said. “That’s my cloak. I left it when I ran.”
There was, in fact, a good bit of flotsam scattered about: a few cloaks, a water jug, Philip’s precious dice, even a helmet. Here were all the signs of panicked flight. They had left all and fled for their lives.
For me only one question remained. Was the open tomb truly empty?
“Get to your feet, Philip,” I said. “You two stay here and watch while I go take a look inside.”
I took three deep breaths and set out on my little journey. It was only about twenty paces4485 SHARABLE-2 to the tomb entrance. A distance made much longer by my fear. But the whole scene was bathed in the warmth of morning sunlight. I started slowly. About halfway to the entrance, a songbird broke forth in glorious melody. The sun’s rays streamed into the rock tomb, lighting my way.
It was empty! The stone slab lay empty. Actually, it was not entirely so. The death shroud had been rolled up, and the face covering was neatly folded and lay off to one side. It appeared as though the awakened corpse took a moment to make his bed after getting up.
The Galilean prophet, the true king, had arisen and gone forth!

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

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Excerpt 31 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

31 Saturday 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?

Date: Seven in the morning, Saturday, April 8, 30 A.D.
Annas meets with Pontius Pilate and asks that Jesus’ tomb be guarded.

Pilate was seated even as I saw him yesterday. He wore a rather haggard look, as though he had slept on the bloodstained rocks of Golgotha. He motioned for the temple delegation to step forward. I waited at the back of the room in a repetition of the governor’s late- day interview with Joseph of Arimathea.
Annas bowed and began. “Sir, we remember that while he was still alive that deceiver said, ‘After three days I will rise again.’”
A strange tingle ran through me as he said this. Pilate rubbed his hands.
Annas continued. “So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead.” Then he concluded by lifting a bony finger and saying, “This last deception will be worse than the first.”
On hearing this, Pilate sighed deeply, then beckoned me forward. There was worry in his eyes. “The centurion here, Marcus Longinus, is fully acquainted with the case of the Galilean prophet. He oversaw his crucifixion.” Then he addressed me directly. “Is that not so?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. It is as you say.”
With that he raised his hands and motioned both parties together. Then, speaking directly to all of us, he said, “Take a guard. Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how.” Rubbing his guilt- stained hands once more, the Badger got up and skulked off. Free WW-e FACEBOOK-2 (2)Annas was jubilant. With eagerness in his voice, he turned to address me. “How soon can you have your troops at the tomb?”
“We should be there in about an hour.”
“Excellent! These two gentlemen will meet you there. They will ensure that all is in order. Understood?”
“Yes. Understood,” I said. Then I addressed the Pharisees. “Do you know which tomb? Do you know where it is?”
Annas answered for them. “Ah, they know it well.” He gave a contemptuous snort. “The traitor’s tomb, Joseph of Arimathea!”
“I will bring my men and meet you there then.” I gave a slight bow with my head. The chamberlain saw us to the door, and then I was off, back to my home.
I shook my head several times in disbelief as I trudged back. Every time I tried to extricate myself from this Messiah pit, this kingdom of God affair, this abysmal hole, I would find myself sucked in even deeper. And now it had happened again. Was there no escape?
Would I ever be allowed to speak my mind before Pilate?

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

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Excerpt 28 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

28 Wednesday Mar 2018

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

Date: Nine thirty in the morning, Friday, April 7 30A.D.
The crucifixion of Jesus.

I tipped the bucket to one side to get enough swill to fill the dipper. I offered it to Jesus. He took a sip, worked the liquid around in his mouth, discerned the true nature of this bitter potion, and then spit it out. It left a dark stain on the dull gray rock near his feet.
“It will dull the pain,” I said emphatically.
He raised his eyes. They locked with mine. I saw in him the same look, the samebiblical-fiction-award-2017_orig 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.
I dropped my gaze. He must be a fool. In his condition, in this situation, he must be a fool. A fool who unnerved me, but a fool nonetheless.
Once more I offered the drink.
With lips pressed tight, he shook his head.
He was a fool. An arrogant fool! A fool who thinks he’s tough—who can handle this—who can take it straight.
We would see who’s tough. I would show him who’s tough!
Let the big show begin.
“Now, boys!” I called out to the crew. Still wearing the purple robe, he was snatched like a young child and slammed down onto the crossbeam.
A cheer went up.
My right hand seized the hammer from Octavio. My left fumbled, then dove into, the nail pouch.
I dropped my knee onto his fingers.
Stabbed the sharpened point of the spike into the base of the palm.
Raised the hammer.
Xchuuuung!
An enormous cheer went up from the crowd.
Blood spurted across my thigh.
Xchuuuung!
Xchuuuung!
Xchuuuung!
One in.
The Christ was silent. Still . . .
Octavio urged me on. “That’s it, Marcus!”
I sprang to my feet, remembering the full rush of battle. Then scrambled to the other arm. From just off the hill, in the throng, a chant began and established itself. “More. More. More. More.”
Knee on fingers.
“More!”
Spike jabbed in.
“More!”
Hammer raised.
“More!”
Xchuuuung!
“More!”
Xchuuuung!
“More!”
Xchuuuung!
Two in. The Christ was silent.
Still . . . He was still beneath the piercing blows.
I rose, panting. Heart pounding. Bloodied hand dripping. Seeing a stainfree area farther up my hairy arm, I wiped it across my sweat- drenched brow.
Octavio saluted me with a smile and a thumbs-up signal.
The crowd roared their approval.
This time it was Octavio who yelled, “Hoist him up.”
The Christ was dragged gasping—desperately gasping—to an upright position before the death mast.
Now they could see him, and the crowd went wild with frenzied excitement. Cheering. Clapping. Hooting. Bloodlust took hold.
The props were applied to the arms of the crossbeam.
A new chant went up. 4485 SHARABLE-2
“Raise him up!”
“Raise him up!”
“Raise him up!”
Octavio signaled, and the men in back lifted the beam on which the Christ was pinned above their heads.
Then we all saw it—saw the obvious. He was still clothed. The purple robe billowed out as it was caught by a sudden cold gust of wind. The sight of it brought all my frenzied demons to the fore.
I stepped before him, looked into his agonized face, and said, “You won’t be needing this . . . king of the Jews.”
Then to the cheers of my men, I spit into his face. I added my spittle to all the rest that had dried and was clinging to his beard.
I untied the royal robe and dropped it in a heap to my right. Finally, with a wicked smile, and to cheers all around, I snatched his breechcloth from off his loins.
I tossed it to Octavio. He held it up. A trophy!
We laughed. We all laughed. I
t was a laugh not our own.
I recognized it. It was Herod’s laugh.
When he had regained some composure, the head jailer started the final count.
“Ready . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . now!”
To chants of “Raise him up, raise him up,” the Christ, the Messiah, the king, was lifted up—up before the world.
His head twisted from side to side in writhing agony. His whip-sliced back slammed against the upright as he was dragged higher.
Then with a flesh-tearing lurch, the notch in the horizontal beam found its match in the vertical. The rope was flung around, then drawn tight, securing the two cross members as one.
The silent Christ hung. He hung naked and bleeding before a jeering world.
Only the last spike remained. Awkwardly, I fumbled for it.
But a creeping unease overshadowed me. I glanced over my shoulder. Claudius stood alone, off to the side. Silent . . . He was ghastly pale and silent, transfixed by the sight before him.
I handed the last nail and the hammer back to Octavio and said, “You do it.” He snorted his surprise, but then set quickly to his task.

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 27 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

27 Tuesday 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?

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 25 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

23 Friday 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 fifteen in the morning, Friday, April 7 30A.D.
Jesus is questioned by Herod Antipas.

“Jesus of Nazareth,” the Fox pompously intoned. “The prophet of Galilee. I’ve longed to see you, my most noteworthy subject.”
With that Herod arose, and holding his robe shut, he approached the Messiah. He inspected the taller man, walked fully around him. Noticing the welts and the dried spittle, he looked my way and asked, “Is this your work, centurion?”
“No, Your Majesty.” My eyes darted to Jonathon and back to Herod again.
“Ah, the high priest’s work!” the Fox remarked grandly as he turned to Jonathon. “I didn’t think you temple boys were capable.”
This bit of sarcasm drew an acknowledging nod and a slight smile from the chief temple guard. Here was a backhanded compliment from the pretentious Fox.
“Your Majesty, I have here a letter from His Excellency the governor and certain chargesJames Wri brought by—”
The king halted me with an uplifted hand and a shake of his head.
“That can wait, centurion.” He paused, and then with a certain dramatic flourish, he began. “We have here a man of rare talent. He makes the lame to walk, the blind to see, has cured the leper. I have heard reports that he has raised the dead.” And then spotting a gold chalice on the inlaid table, he seized it by the stem and with relish declared, “He has even turned water into wine.”
He lifted the chalice before the Messiah and grandly asked, “Isn’t that so, Jesus?”
The Messiah did not answer him a word.
If Herod was perturbed by this silence, he didn’t show it. “Servant girl!” he hollered. “Servant girl!”
An attractive young woman entered from the door on the left, and with short, quick steps, she made her way before the tetrarch. She bowed low.
“Fill this chalice with water and bring it back.”
He stared after her as she left.
I noticed Herodias following his hungry gaze.
“Soon we will see if this prophet can perform the works of which we heard.” He nodded his head with an eager enthusiasm. Then addressing Jesus, he asked, “Tell us of your magic arts.”
The Messiah fixed his eyes straight ahead. He looked beyond the Fox and did not answer him a word. His silence was challenging enough.
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Excerpt 23 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

21 Wednesday Mar 2018

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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.

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

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Excerpt 21 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

19 Monday 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: 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.”

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Excerpt 20 for Lent from The Soldier Who Killed a King

16 Friday Mar 2018

Posted by in Books by David Kitz, Christ's Passion, Friday's Focus, 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?

Date: Mid afternoon on Thursday, April 6th, 30 A.D.
In today’s reading, Governor Pontius Pilate gives a brief speech formally welcoming Herod the tetrarch to Jerusalem.

At last the two mounted commanders arrived before Pilate’s chariot. They were motioned to take their position on either side. After a brief confusion of feet, the royal litter managed to turn sideways so the royal couple could face the governor as he stood upon his imperial chariot. The trumpeters sounded the fanfare. When the last note had echoed off the marble wall, Pilate unrolled the parchment handed to him by an attendant. He cleared his throat and began his oration.
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“It was under the rule of the great and wise Emperor Caesar Augustus that this magnificent temple behind us began to take shape. He recognized the desire of the Jewish people for a central place to worship. It was Herod the great Idumean king who oversaw the construction of this masterpiece of the empire, and today it stands as a symbol of Roman respect for the unity and diversity of all the peoples of the empire. It is only fitting today that I, as the emperor’s representative, welcome the son of this master builder, Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee and Perea.”
With a wave of his hand, Pilate signaled the sounding of a second trumpet fanfare. As the first note was sounded, he stepped off the chariot and then graciously lent a hand to his wife. Thus accompanied by his mate, he swaggered over to the royal litter to personally greet Herod and Herodias, who both stood to meet them.
Greetings were exchanged, none of which I could discern from a distance. After a brief discussion Claudia joined Herodias in the royal litter. Herod barked out some orders. The litter bearers stood to their feet and headed off in the direction of the governor’s residence. Apparently the ladies would have their own time together.
At a leisurely pace Pilate escorted Herod over to where the priestly delegation waited.Soldier book
It was an unusual sight, these three hostile, inflated men exchanging greetings and meaningless pleasantries. Herod Antipas, Pontius Pilate, and Joseph Caiaphas; the Fox, the Badger, and the Weasel. All three were kings in their own right, within their own jurisdiction. All three craved more power, absolute power, while fiercely holding one another in check.
Pilate turned to me and gave a quick, tight nod. I signaled up to Claudius, and the great Golden Gate, the Messiah Gate, was hoisted, granting entrance to the three competing kings.
Only the fourth king, the people’s king—the donkey king—only he was absent.

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.