Oh, beloved convert, we know what you once were before the great light reached you. We have followed your steps through history and have learned of your love for the Sacred Laws and how faithful you were to them.
And with what severity you enforced them! You demanded obedience and respect for the Law, and to achieve that, you did not measure the consequences of your decisions, imposing painful punishments and tortures without limit on those who strayed or ignored it.
All who knew you respected and admired you, for you had the gift of speech. When you rose to the pulpit to praise the Lord of our lives and His sacred commandments, you were cheered by all, for from your lips flowed teachings never before heard, leaving those present enraptured in admiration.
Yes, you were an excellent orator, for your education had been focused since early childhood on a single purpose: you would become a Doctor of the Law. However, your father also taught you the craft of weaving. Thus, you gained another skill, little imagining that this would one day provide your livelihood.
Oh, Chosen Vessel, after years of persecuting the followers of the Master, it was He Himself who called you to a far greater and more sublime task, that of carrying the Gospel of Light and Love to all nations.
But for this, you first had to withdraw for some time into the desert of Palmyra, for you needed to renew yourself, to rebuild from your errors, to study carefully the notes of Matthew, and also to forgive yourself for the harm done to your fellow travelers. In short, to prepare yourself to perform a perfect work, which indeed you did.
And so followed years of long and exhausting journeys, thousands of kilometers traveled through remote regions, humble and impoverished villages where only a small group of people gathered. There too, you preached the message of the Divine Master with such beauty and enthusiasm that all who heard you wanted immediately to follow the Christ of God.
Thus, another community was born. And over time, many more were created along your path, and the followers of the Good News gradually multiplied. You did not mind the stones that were thrown at you from time to time, nor the malicious accusations, the beatings, the insults, or the slanders that sought to stop you from preaching the coming of a kingdom of love.
Oh, former rabbi of Tarsus, you were even once considered dead and thrown onto a heap of garbage, to escape the fury of misguided brothers who could not understand the message you brought them.
Even your dear friends and your own family accused you of having lost your mind, avoiding you because you no longer spoke of the Sacred Law. Instead, you spoke of a strange carpenter unknown to them. Thus, you were abandoned by all.
And so, without direction, without strength, and with no place to take refuge, you sought help from the One who had entrusted you with the task of spreading the Gospel of Love. He, who had always been at your side, never abandoned you. Then your strength was renewed once more, and you went on, for to accomplish the task entrusted to you there was no time for complaints or trivial concerns.
Near the end of your mission, unable to return to the communities you had founded, it was by inspiration from the Master Himself that you began to write letters to them, for the problems there were growing, and these reached you through devoted messengers who came to you in distress seeking your guidance. And how blessed, how full of wisdom and kindness were those letters you wrote, for to this day they are read and studied.
Oh, Apostle of the Gentiles, you spent many years in dedication and faithfulness, in struggle and suffering in the name of the cause you embraced. While you worked at the loom during the day to earn your living, the nights were reserved for spreading the message of love. Thus, nearly all your life was devoted to serving the gentle "Rabbi." And even with a thorn in your flesh, you worked until the end, worked without ceasing, worked tirelessly.
Then, when the final hour came and you found yourself in prison, you did not let yourself be intimidated by the madness of your tormentors, for you were certain that you had fought the good fight and were ready to enter the dwellings of eternal life.
You would leave your body of flesh and depart, seeking "the Lord of Peace and Truth, who gives life to the world."