We were mending our fishing nets when Andrew returned from a trip all exited telling us that they had found the Messiah. He insisted that I go with him to meet this Prophet from Nazareth. To please my brother I went along. Before Andrew could introduce me, this man said, "You are Simon son of John. You will be known as Peter (the Rock)." He knew me without having ever met. The very next day, Jesus showed up where I was fishing and caught nothing. He took over my boat and lectured to the people. Then, He ordered me to go out and fish against my objections. We obeyed and were shocked at the catch. We called for neighboring boats to bring in the haul. Being a very sinful man, I fell on my knees and begged the Holy Man to leave me. He paid not attention to my plea but ordered me to follow him and He would make me into a fisher for men. I was powerless to refuse and so were my brother Andrew and our partners James and John Zebedee.

My identity will puzzle historians. Those, who will write about Jesus, shall identify me by different names. Some called me Simon the Zealot. Simon means being "snub-nosed." There was something about that description. I snubbed at some ideas and at some people. When I was first told about a "Man" by the name of Jesus from Nazareth, I tried to dismiss Him as if anything worthwhile could come out of Nazareth. To me, it was an unimportant place with unimportant people. What could possibly come from such an insignificant place? I raised my nose a little higher than I should have and then ended up swallowing my pride. The word "Zealots" was not my family name, but my zealousness for my country and my faith. I burned up inside of me at the political and religious situation of our nation. I was ready and willing to take up arms and drive our enemies and false leaders out of our country. I was, however, waiting for the right leader to come along and guide us. I expected "Him" to be another Moses or a King David and not some unknown carpenter's son from Nazareth. I was a proud enthusiast. I did nothing half-ways. I put my heart and soul into the cause of delivering our people from oppression.

I was the disciple of the heart. Mine was not bigger than the hearts of the other disciples of Jesus; but, perhaps it was more sensitive and introspective. I went more by my feelings than I did by my thinking. For me, what Jesus did was more spiritual than rational. He did and taught things that only the heart could grasp. When Jesus talked to us how we could be a blessing, and when He mentioned that the pure in heart would see God, He must have me in mind. I did try very hard to remove all undesirable things from my thoughts. I could not think evil of others. I felt everyone was better than I was. Even when people would make mistakes, I believed they had a reason for it. If they sinned against me, I would forgive them the very moment they transgressed and not hold it against them. This was how Jesus felt and I identified with that attitude. It was His compassion and sensitivity that touched me most of all. And I believe that He felt the same way about me and chose me to be on His team. Jesus needed a follower that had a sensitive disposition for people that could not always be in charge of their lives, situations, and even of their thinking. Thoughts do not always guide our actions.

I, John, the one whom Jesus loved, watched in horror what the Roman soldiers were doing to our Teacher. A week ago, He rode into Jerusalem being welcomed by a cheering crowd, ready to crown Jesus king. Less than a week later, His enemies were crucifying Him as the "King of the Jews." Jesus' mother, my mother and a few of us were watching in horror and listening to their verbal abuse, demanding that He come down from the cross, that is, if He really was the Son of God. He did not come down from the cross. Instead He forgave His enemies, instructed me to take care of His mother, announced that, "it was finished" and then died. At that very moment, the earth shook, the sky darkened, and we ran for our safety. Even the enemies knew that it was no ordinary "Man" they had tortured, humiliated and crucified but had not killed. He had died by His own choice. From some of our brave women, we learned that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had spared any more humiliation of our Leader by placing His body in a grave.

I am Caiaphas, the High Priest that prosecuted Jesus. I was convinced that this Galilean was an imposter because there was no prophecy that anyone that important would come from Galilee. As the head of our religion it was my solemn duty to plot against this man and eliminate him at any cost. He was threatening our lucrative positions and placed us at the mercies of Rome. The Nazarene influenced far too many people for our comfort. His clever plot to capture the hearts of the people by riding into Jerusalem on a donkey did not fool us. My lips could not call Him Jeshua or a son of David. To us leaders, He was a curse and not a blessing.

I was not lost, nor had I strayed from home as my introduction may suggest. The reason I was found was that Jesus, the Teacher, had come looking for me. He found me because He wanted me on His team. What I am saying is, Jesus specifically came my way. I am "Philippos," (Philip), the fifth disciple. The name is Greek and means, "friend" or "lover of horses." It was a popular name among kings, generals, leaders and those who respected the influence of Alexander the Great, whose father happened to be Philip of Macedonia. For whatever reason I was named Philip, I found it to be convenient and practical. With my name, I could access places and individuals that people with Jewish names could not. Like Andrew, I too could travel about the country without raising any suspicion. I, too, looked for the Christ and when Jesus sought me out and asked me to follow Him, I immediately responded. I had no doubt that I, too, had found the One of whom Moses and the prophets had written. Like Andrew, I too came from Bethsaida and like him; I easily made friends and I knew my way around the country. I was a person who could bring people together and also find ways to meet human needs. And I believe that my name was quite useful in my Lord's undertakings. I also believe that is why Jesus chose me to represent the people of non-Jewish descent.

I had not fallen while I was a disciple of Jesus. I had fallen before I became one of his. My real name is Matthew Levi, son of Alphaeus. And my occupation was tax collector. Even without attempting an explanation, my name and occupation give you some idea how I had fallen. But, allow me to indulge a little for the sole purpose of showing that if Jesus was interested in me, He will be so much more interested in you. The religious people in my day would not touch me with a ten-foot pole; yet, Jesus defied public opinion and invited me personally to follow Him. Was I really that bad or did the people make me out to be that bad? What do you think?

I was a lawyer or an interpreter of our laws. In fact, I was regarded as an expert in the legal profession. We had mainly two schools of legal interpretation. The Pharisees believed in an after life and the Sadducees did not. I was a bit skeptical about a life beyond and tried to ask ambiguous questions of those that believed in eternal life. For instance, one of my colleagues asked Jesus which one of her seven husbands would she keep in heaven? I used a more personal approach and asked Jesus directly, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?"

I am one of the people who laid a trap for another human being and I fell in myself. It all began when I invited Jesus to have a meal with me. He was eager to recline with me at the table in my home. He was quite at ease and I was very tense. I had my reasons; for, I was a Pharisee. It was unorthodox for me to be hospitable with this unrecognized Teacher. I could eat with Him across the table, but I could not be cordial with Him. I could not welcome Jesus with a kiss, wash His feet or anoint His head with oil. He was not of our class. Nevertheless, I invited Him so that I could ascertain whether the rumors about Him were true? I also was hoping that something would happen that would support my suspicion. For that reason, I announced that it would be an open luncheon so that someone could come in and embarrass this self-made Prophet Sure enough, a notorious woman was in the neighborhood and became the bait for my trap. She came in unannounced and brought with her an alabaster jar of costly perfume. She took her place behind my guest and began to weep. Her tears fell on Jesus' feet. Next, she wiped the tears off His feet with her hair, and kissed them. Then she poured her perfume on His feet.

I am Susanna and I, too, was remembered to have followed Jesus. Just think my name appears in a book that is all about Jesus. Only, one of the writers found room in his story of Jesus for me. All Luke, the Gentile physician, had to say about me is, "Susanna, with many other women not named, helped to support Jesus out of their own means." The other writers did not bother to mention my name; yet, I too was with Jesus to the end. Only, there I am one of the other women. There too, I am the nameless one on whom the Lord depended to make out on earth. Just think of the many women who never got their names printed or written or even mentioned at their own funeral; yet, without their contribution, regardless how small it may have been, things would have turned out differently. What would have happened to Jesus' mission without the help of the other women? I dare say, that His work would have suffered additional hardships. Our names were not up in front, but our deeds were. And that was why we were remembered for what we had done.