Chapter One: A Bus Full of Destiny
Nobody, no matter how great they will become, can be born knowing everything. No child has ever emerged from the womb knowing the purpose of their existence, their destiny, or how the choices they make will influence others. Everyone must grow up and learn.
The bus that I rode on for my entire high school career was full of heroes who would in time give birth to the foundation of the Christian church. I take little credit, for my role-however essential-was brief. Sitting in front of me were the brothers Peter and Andrew. Ignoring the strict regulations of the bus, they had the rock 'n roll music on their iPods turned up full blast.
I sat on the left side of the aisle. To the seat on the right sat Judas Iscariot and Simon the Zealot. Judas had his nose buried in his personal copy of the Torah, scrutinizing every sentence that he read. He held a pen, and often made notes in the scriptures. Simon kept his scarred hand over the pouch on his packet, which we all knew held his dagger. According to him, it had been passed down from generation to generation, originating at the Battle of Masada.
Sitting behind me were the siblings Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Mary was busy applying eye shadow to herself while Martha studied for the test she had in science that day. Lazarus sat in between them wearing out his thumbs on his PS3.
None of us had the least bit of a clue that we would ever sit at the feet of the Messiah. None of us could have guessed how we would influence the world one day. It was truly a bus full of destiny.
But I'm almost forgetting the most important of us. The bus stopped and the doors swung open. He stepped onto the bus and took his usual seat right beside me. His brown hair was much neater than mine. His heavy book bag sat in his lap as the bus drove us to school.
My cousin was only a year younger than me. He carried a big piece of poster board with both hands. It was the project that we had been diligently working on for the past two weeks.
"Ready to present today?" I asked.
"Are you kidding?" he asked eagerly. "I've been looking forward to this day for the whole year. I think our project could be the best out of all of them."
"So do I," I said. "We're without a doubt getting into Tanakh Class next semester."
"And from there it's only a matter of time before we're official rabbis!" Jesus exclaimed.
Jesus and I knew we wanted to preach God's law for as long as we could both remember. As cousins and best friends we shared many things in common. The biggest one was a burning desire to lead a lost generation of the Godless to the Lord. Jesus and I studied the scriptures together on the weekends and even had some pretty heavy arguments over their meanings.
The road to becoming a teacher of God's law was a long one indeed. We were almost done with the first step: Torah Class. Everyone who attended a high school in Judea was expected to take a half semester class that taught the basics of the first set of books in the Jewish scriptures: The Torah. Anyone who passed that class had the option to take a class on the next set of scriptures: Tanakh Class. From there, any male over sixteen could apply to any rabbi to become his disciple.
Every rabbi had his own way of interpreting the law. It was called his yolk. Before someone could become a rabbi with their own yolk, they had to learn that of another rabbi. After learning from that rabbi for a few years, a disciple could finally teach his own interpretation of the law to his own set of disciples. Jesus and I couldn't wait for that day.