PANIC IN Jakarta: Grand Mufti Goes Viral WEEPS LIVE After Jesus Spoke To Him in Mecca During Ramadan !!!

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Jesus spoke to me inside the Grand Mosque during Leilot al-Qaeda and told me, “You have been leading my sheep away from me.

Now you will lead them back.

My name is Grand Mufti Abdullah Riak Shihab.

3 weeks ago, I was the highest Islamic authority in Indonesia.

Today, there is a warrant for my arrest.

I heard the voice of Jesus Christ in Mecca during Ramadan in the holiest place in Islam.

And everything I spent 50 years teaching collapsed in that moment.

I was wrong about Jesus.

And 20,000 Muslims now know it.

Jesus is winning in Indonesia.

And the authorities are terrified, not because I am lying, but because they know I am telling the truth.

The government wants me silenced for apostasy.

But the Grand Muy of Indonesia bowing to Jesus Christ is not apostasy.

It is the Quran being fulfilled.

This is what happened in Mecca.

But to understand why this encounter destroyed me, you need to understand who I was before that night.

I was not just any imam.

I was the man who told 231 million Muslims what to believe about God.

And for 50 years, I led them away from the truth.

I was born on August 24th, 1974 in Bandong, West Java, the heart of Indonesia’s Islamic scholarship.

My family was Islamic royalty.

My great-grandfather had been a kadi, an Islamic judge during Dutch colonial rule.

My grandfather was the imam of the largest mosque in West Java.

My father was a professor of Islamic juristprudence at the state Islamic University.

When I was born, my father held me up in the mosque and declared, “This child will be a defender of Islam.

Allah has chosen him”.

I believed him.

From the moment I could speak, I was reciting Quran.

By age 5, I had memorized the first five suras.

By age seven, I could recite 15 suras from memory.

By age 10, I was leading prayers for adults in our neighborhood mosque.

By age 12, I had completed Hifs.

I had memorized all 6,236 verses of the Quran in Arabic, word perfect.

My father wept with pride.

The community called me Hafi Abdullah, Abdullah the memorizer.

I was sent to the best Islamic boarding school in Java, Pasantran al-Mukmmin.

I studied under the most respected Ulma in Indonesia.

I learned taps, interpretation of the Quran.

I learned hadith, the sayings and actions of Muhammad.

I learned fick, Islamic juristprudence and law.

I learned a Islamic theology and creed.

By age 15, I was teaching Quranic Arabic to students older than me.

By age 17, I was debating senior scholars in public forums and winning.

I graduated at the top of my class.

My father told me, “Abdullah, you are ready for Al Azar”.

Alazar University in Cairo, Egypt.

The Oxford of the Islamic world.

Founded in 970 AD, the most prestigious institution of Sunni Islamic learning on earth.

Only the best students are accepted, and I was one of them.

At 18 years old, I left Indonesia for Cairo.

I studied under grandm, mufties and scholars who had spent 60 70 years in Islamic theology.

I absorbed everything.

Usul alfi the principles of Islamic legal theory.

Makasid al-Sharia the objectives of Islamic law comparative religions studying Christianity Judaism Hinduism Buddhism to refute them.

I was trained to be a defender of Islam and I was very very good at it.

I could debate any Christian apologist and dismantle their arguments.

I could quote the Bible better than most pastors because I studied it to refute it.

I knew every contradiction, every mistransation, every theological weakness.

I destroyed Christian missionaries in public debates.

I graduated from Al Aar with highest honors in 1999.

I was 25 years old.

I returned to Indonesia a hero.

The newspapers called me the scholar who humiliated the Christians in Cairo.

I was invited to speak at mosques across the country.

Thousands came to hear me.

Television stations wanted me on their programs.

The government appointed me to the Majis Ulama Indonesia, the Indonesian Council of Ulma, the body that issues fatwas and guides Islamic policy for the entire nation.

I was 30 years old.

by 38 and I became the youngest grand mufty in Indonesian history.

231 million Muslims looked to me for spiritual guidance.

When I spoke, they listened.

When I issued a fatwa, it became law.

I was untouchable and I was empty.

Let me explain what it means to be Grand Muy.

In Indonesia, the Grand Muy is the highest religious authority in the nation above all other imams, above all other scholars.

When the president has a question about Islamic law, he calls me.

When a Muslim business owner wants to know if a product is halal, they come to me.

When a Muslim woman wants to know if her marriage is valid, she asks me.

When a controversy arises like whether Muslims should celebrate Valentine’s Day or whether it’s permissible to vote for a Christian politician, the nation waits for my fatwa.

My words carry the weight of divine authority.

If I declare something haram, forbidden, businesses close, products are pulled from shelves, people lose their jobs.

If I declare something halal, permissible, entire industries are born.

In 2020, I issued a fatwa declaring that cryptocurrency trading was permissible under Sharia law.

Within a year, Indonesia became one of the largest crypto markets in the world.

In 2021, I issued a fatwa banning the Amadia sect from calling themselves Muslim.

Within weeks, Amadia mosques were vandalized.

Some were burned.

Several Amadis were killed by mobs.

I told myself it was justice.

They were heretics.

They deserved it.

In 2023, I issued a fatwa declaring that Muslims who left Islam to become Christians should be shunned by their families, fired from their jobs, and reported to authorities.

And I appeared on national television and said, “Apostasy is treason against Allah.

It is worse than murder and those who commit it should face the consequences.

Thousands of Muslim converts to Christianity went into hiding.

Some were killed by their own families.

I told myself I was defending the faith.

But late at night when I was alone in my study, I would sit in the dark and feel nothing.

I had spent my entire life serving Allah.

I prayed five times a day every day for 50 years.

I fasted during Ramadan every year for 50 years.

I gave zakat charity.

I made Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca seven times.

I had memorized the Quran.

I had studied under the greatest scholars.

I had debated the best Christian apologists and won.

But I had never heard the voice of Allah.

Not once, not in 50 years.

I would pray and then it felt like I was talking to the ceiling.

I would read the Quran and it felt like I was reading a history book.

I would lead prayers for thousands of people and when they wept and raised their hands to heaven, I would feel empty.

I told myself it was the weight of leadership, the burden of responsibility.

But deep down I knew I was a fraud.

I was teaching people how to reach Allah.

But I had never reached him myself.

I was telling people that Islam brought peace, but I had no peace.

I was telling people that the Quran was the final revelation from God.

But when I read it, I felt nothing.

And the worst part, I couldn’t tell anyone.

How could I?

I was the grand mut, the spiritual authority, the man who guided 231 million Muslims.

If I admitted that I had never experienced Allah, what would that make me?

A hypocrite.

a liar, a blind guide leading the blind.

So I buried it.

I worked harder.

I prayed longer.

I memorized more hadith.

I studied more theology.

I told myself if I just serve more, study more, sacrifice more, eventually Allah will speak to me.

But he never did.

And the emptiness grew until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

That was when the Christian dream started happening.

And everything changed.

In 2023, something began happening across Indonesia that terrified the Islamic establishment.

Muslims, ordinary Muslims, not scholars or theologians, began reporting dreams, not just a few, thousands.

And they were all the same dream.

A man in white robes, glowing, peaceful, with pierced hands.

And he would say, “I am Issa al-Masi.

I am the way, the truth, and the life.

Follow me”.

At first, the imams dismissed it.

Dreams are common.

Shayan, the devil, can appear in dreams to deceive people.

But then the dreams didn’t stop.

They spread.

By mid 2023, tens of thousands of Muslims across Indonesia were reporting the same dream.

And many of them were converting to Christianity quietly at first, then publicly.

Churches began to fill with former Muslims.

Entire families were converting.

Imams were panicking.

The Melisama Indonesia called an emergency meeting.

They asked me to address the nation.

I went on national television in November 2023 and delivered a speech that was broadcast to 40 million Indonesians.

I said, “My Muslim brothers and sisters, do not be deceived.

These dreams are not from Allah.

They are from Shan.

The devil knows that Muslims love and honor Isa al-Masi, Jesus, as a great prophet”.

And so, Shayan appears as Issa to deceive you.

But the true Issa would never tell you to leave Islam.

He would never tell you to worship him as God.

These dreams are a test from Allah.

and anyone who follows them is committing sherk, the unforgivable sin of associating partners with Allah, you will go to hellfire.

Do not be fooled.

The broadcast was shared millions of times.

Islamic leaders across the country thanked me for defending the faith.

The government praised me for stopping the spread of apostasy.

But the dreams didn’t stop.

They intensified.

By early 2024, over 100,000 Muslims had reported the same dream, and thousands were converting every month.

Churches couldn’t keep up.

Underground house churches began forming.

The government began cracking down.

Christians were arrested for procilitizing Muslims.

I Muslim converts to Christianity were charged with apostasy and blasphemy.

Some were imprisoned.

Some were killed by the government or by their own families in so-called honor killings.

I told myself this was necessary.

Islam had to be defended.

If we allowed Muslims to convert to Christianity without consequences, Islam and Indonesia would collapse.

So I issued more fatwas.

I called for stricter blasphemy laws.

I supported the arrests.

I justified the violence.

And at night alone in my study, I would open the Quran to surah 19, the chapter about Mariam, the mother of Issa.

And I would read, he said, I am only the messenger of your Lord to give you a pure boy.

He will be a sign for the people and a mercy from us.

A sign, a mercy.

Why would Allah send signs and mercy through dreams about Issa and then call them from Shayan?

I didn’t have an answer, but I pushed the thought away.

I had to because if those dreams were real, if Issa was really appearing to Muslims, then everything I had taught for 50 years was a lie.

And I couldn’t accept that.

Not yet.

In February 2025, I received a phone call that would change my life.

It was from the Saudi Ministry of Islamic Affairs.

They were organizing an emergency conference in Mecca during Ramadan, bringing together the Grand Mufties and senior Islamic scholars from every Muslim majority nation.

The topic defending Islamic Orthodoxy in the age of global apostasy.

The focus combating the wave of Muslim conversions to Christianity happening across the world, not just in Indonesia, everywhere.

Iran and thousands of Muslims converting after dreams of Jesus.

Egypt, underground churches exploding with former Muslims.

Pakistan, secret Christian communities forming in major cities.

Saudi Arabia, even in the birthplace of Islam, Muslims were having dreams of Issa.

The Saudi government was terrified.

They wanted the greatest Islamic minds in the world to come together and develop a strategy to stop this.

and they wanted me to deliver the keynote address.

The invitation said, “Grand Mufti Abdullah Rizek Shihab, your work defending Islam in Indonesia has been recognized across the Muslim world.

We need your expertise.

We need your voice.

The future of Islam depends on scholars like you”.

I accepted immediately.

This was the highest honor imaginable to speak in Mecca, the holiest city in Islam.

During Ramadan, the holiest month that to the leaders of the global Muslim Ummah, this was my moment.

I would deliver the speech that would stop the Christian heresy once and for all.

I spent 3 weeks preparing.

My speech was titled Issa Al-Masi, Prophet Not God.

Refuting the Christian deception.

I gathered every verse from the Quran that referred to Jesus.

I compiled every hadith that mentioned him.

I studied Christian theology, the Trinity, the incarnation, the atonement, so I could dismantle it piece by piece.

I memorized Bible verses that Christians use to claim Jesus is God.

John 1:1, John 14:6, John 10:30, and prepared devastating counterarguments.

I would prove definitively that Jesus was just a prophet, not divine.

The Trinity is polytheism, not monotheism.

Christians corrupted the original gospel of Isa.

Muhammad is the final prophet.

Adan Islam is the final revelation.

I practice my speech for hours every day.

My wife listened and said, “Abdullah, this is the most powerful thing you’ve ever written.

This will silence the Christians forever”.

I believed her.

I told my assistant, “Book my flight.

I’m ready”.

On February 28th, 2025, I flew from Jakarta to Jedha, then took a car to Mecca.

I brought my speech notes, my Quran, my copy of the Bible with all my reputations marked in the margins.

I was prepared for war.

What I didn’t know was that I was walking into an ambush, not from Christians, from Jesus himself.

I arrived in Mecca on March 1st, 2025, 3 days before the conference.

The city was already packed with pilgrims for Ramadan.

The streets overflowed with Muslims from every nation, Arabs, Africans, Asians, Europeans.

I all dressed in whiteam, all moving toward the Grand Mosque.

The Saudi government had arranged a five-star hotel for the conference speakers overlooking the Masjid Al- Haram, the Grand Mosque with a direct view of the Cabba.

From my hotel room window, I could see the black cube, the holiest sight in Islam.

surrounded by a sea of white robed pilgrims circling it in tawaf.

I should have felt awe.

I should have felt peace.

I felt nothing.

I unpacked my bags.

I reviewed my speech notes.

I prayed the evening salat.

And then I sat on the edge of my bed staring at the cabba and thought, “I am in the holiest city on earth.

I am about to speak to the greatest Islamic scholars in the world.

Why do I feel so empty?

I tried to shake it off.

I told myself it was jet lag, travel exhaustion, nervousness about the speech.

But it wasn’t.

It was the same emptiness I had felt for years.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, and the doubts I had been suppressing for years began flooding back.

What if the dreams were real?

What if Issa was actually appearing to Muslims?

What if everything I had been teaching was wrong?

I sat up in bed and whispered, “No, stop.

You are the Grand Mui.

You have studied for 50 years.

You know the truth.

Do not doubt now”.

But the doubts wouldn’t leave.

I got out of bed, performed woo, ritual washing, and decided to go to the Grand Mosque.

It was 2:00 a.

m.

The streets were quiet, but the mosque was still full.

The haram never closes.

Pilgrims pray there 24 hours a day during Ramadan.

I walked through the marble corridors, past thousands of pilgrims sleeping on prayer rugs, past the Zam Zam well, in and into the main courtyard.

The Cabba stood in the center, floodlit, majestic.

I found a spot near the multazam, the eastern wall of the cabba, where prayers are said to be most accepted, and I prostrated, and I prayed.

Not the formal salat, not the scripted prayers.

I prayed from my heart.

Allah, I am your servant.

I have served you for 50 years.

I have memorized your words.

I have defended your religion.

I have led millions to worship you.

But I have never heard your voice.

Please speak to me just once.

Let me know you are there.

I stayed prostrated for over an hour.

Around me, thousands of pilgrims prayed, wept, raised their hands to heaven, but I felt nothing.

The emptiness deepened.

I began to weep, not spiritual tears, but tears of despair.

I whispered, “Allah, I am the grand muty of Indonesia.

And I do not know if you are even listening.

silence.

I stood up defeated and walked back to my hotel.

That was March 1st, 2025.

The conference would begin on March 4th.

I had 3 days to prepare my speech.

3 days before my entire world collapsed.

March 3rd, 2025, the night before the conference.

It was also Leilot Alcader, the night of power, the holiest night in the Islamic calendar.

According to Islamic tradition, this is the night when the Quran was first revealed to Muhammad in 610 AD.

Surah 97 says, “The night of power is better than a thousand months.

The angels and the spirit descend by the permission of their Lord for every matter.

Peace it is until the emergence of dawn”.

Muslims believe that on this night heaven is open, prayers are answered, sins are forgiven, angels descend to earth.

If you pray on leat alkad, it is as if you prayed for 83 years.

The grand mosque was packed.

Over 2 million pilgrims filled the haram and the surrounding streets, all praying, weeping, begging Allah for mercy.

I was in my hotel room reviewing my speech.

one final time, but I couldn’t focus.

The emptiness had grown unbearable.

I looked out the window at the Cabba, at the sea of pilgrims, and thought, “Tomorrow, I will stand before the greatest scholars in Islam, and tell them how to defend the faith.

But I don’t even know if the faith is real”.

I felt like a hypocrite, a fraud.

I put down my speech notes.

I performed woodoo.

I put on myram and I decided if Allah is going to speak to me, it will be tonight on Leilat Alkad in Mecca.

If he doesn’t speak to me here, he never will.

I left the hotel at 100 a.

m.

and walked to the Grand Mosque.

The crowds were overwhelming, shoulderto-shoulder, millions of Muslims all facing the Cabba, all praying in near silence.

the only sound, the voice of the Imam reciting Quran over the loudspeakers and the quiet weeping of pilgrims.

I pushed through the crowd and found a spot near the multazam, the wall of the Cabba where prayers are most powerful.

I pressed my forehead to the cold marble floor and I prayed the most honest prayer of my life.

Allah, I am broken.

I am empty.

I have spent 50 years serving you and I do not know you.

I have led millions to worship you, but I have never heard your voice.

I am standing in the holiest place on earth on the holiest night of the year and I feel nothing.

Please, if you are real, speak to me.

I show me that you are there because if you are not then I have wasted my entire life.

I stayed prostrated.

Minutes passed, then an hour around me.

Pilgrims were weeping, raising their hands, crying out to Allah.

But I felt nothing.

The emptiness turned into despair.

I whispered, “Allah, I am the grand muy.

I am supposed to know you, but I don’t.

I don’t know if you even exist”.

And then I heard a voice.

But the voice was not in my mind.

It was not a thought, not an impression, not my imagination.

It was audible, clear, unmistakable, in perfect Arabic.

And it said, “Abdullah, why do you persecute me”?

I froze.

My heart stopped.

I looked up from my prostration.

Around me, thousands of pilgrims were still praying, still weeping, completely unaware.

And no one else had heard it, but I had.

I had heard it.

My hands were shaking.

My breath was shallow.

I thought I was losing my mind.

I whispered.

Who are you?

Silence.

I waited.

And then the voice came again, louder this time, more forceful.

I am Issa al-Masi whom you have denied.

I am the way, the truth, and the life.

You have spent your life teaching others to reject me.

But I have chosen you to lead them to me.

I collapsed.

I fell face first onto the marble floor, trembling, gasping for air.

This was impossible.

I was in the Grand Mosque in Mecca on Leila Talcad.

This was the holiest place in Islam.

the holiest night in Islam.

And I was hearing Jesus, not Allah, not Muhammad.

Jesus.

The man I had spent 50 years teaching was just a prophet, just a messenger, not divine, not the son of God, not worthy of worship.

And he was speaking to me in Arabic, in the Grand Mosque, in Mecca.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move.

The presence, I don’t know how else to describe it, was overwhelming, not threatening, not angry, but powerful.

Like being in the presence of something infinitely greater than yourself, like standing before the sun.

I could feel him, not physically, but spiritually.

I knew he was there.

I knew he was real.

And I knew in that moment that everything I had believed for 50 years was about to be shattered.

I whispered trembling.

But you are Issa.

You are a prophet.

You are not.

You cannot be.

The voice interrupted me.

Abdullah.

You know who I am.

You have read the Quran.

You have read the Bible.

You know the truth.

You have just refused to see it.

I was weeping now uncontrollably.

The pilgrims near me were starting to notice.

A few glanced at me concerned, but I didn’t care.

I whispered, “If you are Issa, if you are real, why are you speaking to me?

I am the one who has been fighting against you.

I am the one who told Muslims to reject you.

I am the one who called you a false god.

Why would you come to me”?

And the voice so gentle now, so full of love, said, “Because I chose you before you were born.

And I have been calling you your entire life.

But you could not hear me because you were listening to the wrong voice”.

I broke.

I sobbed.

50 years of emptiness, of pretending, of leading others while being lost myself.

It all came crashing down in that moment.

And I cried out, not caring who heard me.

I don’t know you.

I have served Allah for 50 years and I have never known him.

I have never heard him.

And I have been teaching people about a God I have never met.

And Jesus said, “That is because you have been worshiping a God who cannot speak.

But I am the living God and I am speaking to you now”.

Silence.

I lay there on the marble floor, trembling, weeping, destroyed, and I whispered, “What do you want from me”?

And he said, “Follow me”.

I don’t know how long I stayed on that floor.

It could have been minutes.

It could have been an hour.

But the voice wasn’t finished.

Jesus spoke again.

Abdullah, stand up.

I want to show you something.

I stood shakily, barely able to keep my balance.

The pilgrims around me were still praying, still prostrating, still weeping.

But I was in another world.

And then I saw something.

I don’t know if it was a vision or if Jesus opened my spiritual eyes, but I saw.

I saw the millions of Muslims in the Grand Mosque.

Not just that night, but across history across 1,400 years.

I saw them praying, weeping, begging, sacrificing.

I saw them circling the cabba, kissing the black stone, performing tawath, performing sai, throwing stones at the pillars, slaughtering animals.

I saw them bowing, prostrating, crying out to Allah.

And I saw silence, no answer, no voice, no presence, just rituals, just repetition, just emptiness.

And then I saw Christians, not in a mosque, not performing rituals, just praying, talking as if God was in the room with them.

And I saw Jesus standing with them, speaking to them, answering them.

And I understood.

Muslims pray to a distant God who does not answer.

Christians pray with a living God who speaks.

And I fell to my knees again and cried out, “But the Quran says you are not the son of God.

It says you are just a prophet.

It says Christians are wrong”.

And Jesus said, “Abdullah, does the Quran say I am just a prophet or does it say something more”?

I was silent.

He continued, “What does Surah 3:45 call me”?

I whispered kalimatah the word of god.

And what does surah 4 vers 171 call me?

Ruhun minhu a spirit from him.

And what does surah 19 verse 19 call me?

Zakiya pure sinless.

And what does surah 4 verse 158 say happened to me?

You were raised to Allah.

You did not die.

And what does surah 43:61 say about me?

You are a sign of the hour.

You will return.

Jesus was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “Abdullah, if I am just a prophet, just a man, why does the Quran give me titles, it gives no one else?

Why does it call me the word of God?

Why does it call me a spirit from God?

Why does it say I am sinless?

Why does it say I am still alive?

Why does it say I will return?

I had no answer.

Because he was right.

I had taught those verses for 50 years, but I had never let them mean what they meant.

I had always explained them away.

Jesus is called the word of God, but that just means he speaks God’s word.

Jesus is called a spirit from God, but that just means he was created by God’s command.

Jesus is sinless, but that doesn’t make him divine.

But now in the presence of Jesus himself, those explanations felt hollow.

If Jesus is just a man, why is he called the word of God?

If Jesus is just a prophet, why is he called a spirit from God?

If Jesus is just a messenger, why is he the only human being the Quran calls sinless?

Muhammad sinned.

The Quran says so in surah 4055 and surah 482 that Allah may forgive you your past and future sins.

But Jesus sinless.

Muhammad died.

His body is in Medina.

But Jesus alive raised to heaven.

Muhammad is not coming back.

The Quran never says he will return.

But Jesus coming again.

I looked up not at the Cabba, not at the pilgrims, but at the sky.

And I cried out, “Who are you”?

And Jesus said, “I am the son of God.

I am the word made flesh.

I am the alpha and the omega.

I am the way, the truth, and the life.

No one comes to the father except through me”.

I fell on my face.

And I said, “But if you are the son of God, then Islam is false.

Then the Quran is incomplete”.

Then Muhammad, I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Jesus said, “Abdullah”.

And Muhammad pointed to me.

But you have been taught to stop at Muhammad.

The Quran testifies about me.

But you have been taught to worship the Quran instead of the one the Quran testifies about.

You have been worshiping the book instead of the author.

I was shaking.

He continued, “You have spent 50 years memorizing words, but you have never met the word.

You have spent 50 years teaching people to follow a prophet who is dead.

But I am alive and I am calling my people home.

I whispered, “What do you want me to do”?

And Jesus said, “You have been leading my sheep away from me.

Now you will lead them back.

Go tell them what you have heard.

Tell them I am alive.

Tell them I am calling them and I will protect you”.

I said, “May but they will kill me”.

And he said, “I died for you.

Will you not live for me?

Silence.

And then he was gone on the presence lifted.

The voice stopped.

I was alone on the marble floor of the Grand Mosque surrounded by millions of Muslims praying to a God who does not answer.

And I had just met the God who does.

I don’t know how long I stayed there.

Eventually, I stood up.

My legs were weak.

My face was soaked with tears.

I walked slowly, shakily out of the Grand Mosque through the crowds of pilgrims and back to my hotel.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the cabba from my window and whispered, “Did that really happen or am I losing my mind”?

I needed proof.

I needed to know that wasn’t just my imagination.

That wasn’t exhaustion or dehydration or a breakdown.

I grabbed my phone.

I opened the Bible app I had downloaded years ago when I was studying Christianity to refute it.

I hadn’t opened it in months.

I didn’t know where to start.

I didn’t know what to read.

So I prayed to Jesus this time, not to Allah.

Jesus, if that was really you, show me.

Give me a sign.

Let me know I’m not crazy.

I closed my eyes.

I opened the app.

When I opened my eyes, the screen was on Acts chapter 9.

I started reading.

Verse 1.

Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples.

Saul, a religious leader, a scholar, a persecutor of Christians.

I kept reading.

Verse three.

As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him.

He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him.

My hands started shaking.

Verse four.

Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?

I dropped the phone.

The same words, the exact same words Jesus had spoken to me 2 hours ago.

And I picked up the phone with trembling hands and kept reading.

Verse 5.

Who are you, Lord?

Saul asked.

I am Jesus whom you are persecuting, he replied.

I was weeping again.

Verse 6.

Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do.

I closed the phone.

I fell to my knees and I prayed, “Jesus, I believe you are not a prophet.

You are not just a messenger.

You are Lord.

You are God.

You are the son of God.

Forgive me.

I have spent 50 years rejecting you.

I have spent 50 years leading people away from you.

I have blood on my hands.

I have caused Christians to suffer.

I have caused Muslims to reject you.

Forgive me.

Please forgive me.

And I felt, not heard, but felt a peace I had never experienced in 50 years of Islam.

A peace that wasn’t dependent on how many times I prayed or how much Quran I memorized or how perfectly I performed the rituals.

A peace that came from knowing I was forgiven.

Not because I earned it.

Not because I deserved it, but because Jesus died for me.

I sat there on the hotel room floor weeping, worshiping, broken, and whole at the same time.

And I said, “Jesus, I will follow you.

I will tell them what happened.

I will lead your people back to you, even if it kills me.

That was March 4th, 2025.

3 weeks ago, and my life has been in danger ever since.

I didn’t sleep that night.

I sat in my hotel room staring at the Cabba and tried to process what had just happened.

I had encountered Jesus Christ in Mecca during Leilat Al-Chader in the Grand Mosque.

The Grand Muy of Indonesia and the man who had spent 50 years defending Islam had just bowed to Jesus.

What was I supposed to do now?

The conference was starting in 6 hours.

I was scheduled to deliver the keynote address.

Issa al-Masi, Prophet, not God.

I had my speech notes, my Quran, my Bible with all my reputations.

But I couldn’t give that speech.

Not anymore.

Everything I had written was a lie.

I pulled out my speech notes and stared at them.

Page after page of arguments, Quranic verses, hadith references, theological reputations, all designed to prove that Jesus was just a prophet.

But I had just heard his voice.

I had felt his presence.

I had read Acts 9 and Jesus had spoken to me the same way he spoke to Saul.

How could I stand before 5,000 Islamic scholars and lie?

But if I told the truth, what would happen?

I would be arrested and I would be charged with apostasy.

I would lose everything.

My position, my reputation, my family.

I might be killed.

I sat there paralyzed with fear.

And then I remembered what Jesus had said.

I died for you.

Will you not live for me?

I closed my eyes.

I took a deep breath.

And I made a decision.

I would tell the truth.

I would tell them exactly what happened.

I would tell them that Jesus is alive, that he speaks, that he is calling Muslims to follow him.

I would tell them that the Quran testifies about Jesus and that we have been ignoring it.

I would tell them that I was wrong, that Islam is incomplete, that Jesus is the way, even if it killed me.

I spent the rest of the night rewriting my speech.

Not arguments, not reputations, just testimony.

What happened, what I heard, what I saw, what I now believed.

By 6:00 a.

m.

I was finished.

Uh by 8:00 a.

m.

I was in the conference hall.

By 900 a.

m.

I was standing on the stage looking at 5,000 Islamic scholars from 57 countries with cameras broadcasting live across the Muslim world.

And I began to speak.

The Grand Mosque conference hall was packed.

5,000 Islamic scholars, mufties, imams, shakes, the greatest minds in Islam, all gathered to discuss one question.

How do we stop Muslims from converting to Christianity?

I was introduced by the Saudi Grand MUI.

Our keynote speaker today is Grand Mui Abdullah Rizek Shahab of Indonesia, a scholar of the highest caliber, a defender of Islamic Orthodoxy, and a man who has spent his life refuting Christian heresies.

He will now address us on the topic.

Issa al- Masi, prophet, not God.

Hey, please welcome Grand Muy Abdullah.

The audience applauded.

I walked to the podium.

I looked out at the sea of scholars, at the cameras, at the Saudi officials in the front row.

I took a breath and I said, “Assalamu alaykum, peace be upon you, my brothers.

I came here to defend Islam.

I came here to prove that Issa al-Masi, Jesus Christ, is just a prophet, not divine, not the son of God.

I prepared a speech.

I gathered Quranic verses.

I studied Christian theology.

so I could refute it.

But I cannot give that speech because last night something happened that changed everything.

The room went silent.

I continued.

Last night on Leilat Alkadr, I went to the Grand Mosque.

I prayed.

I begged Allah to speak to me and he did not answer.

But someone else did.

I heard a voice audible, clear, undeniable, and it said, “Abdullah, but why do you persecute me”?

I asked, “Who are you”?

And the voice said, “I am Issa Al-Masi, whom you have denied.

I am the way, the truth, and the life.

You have spent your life teaching others to reject me, but I have chosen you to lead them to me”.

The room erupted.

Scholars were shouting, gasping.

Some stood up.

I raised my voice.

I know what you are thinking.

You think I am possessed.

You think I have lost my mind.

You think this is from Shayan.

But I am not possessed.

I am not insane.

And this was not from Shayan.

Because when I returned to my hotel, I opened the Bible and I read the story of Saul of Tarsus, a man who persecuted Christians.

And Jesus appeared to him and said the exact same words.

He said to me, “Saul, why do you persecute me?

The same words, the same encounter, the same Jesus, my brothers.

I I have been wrong for 50 years.

Isa al-Masi is not just a prophet.

He is I never finished the sentence”.

Saudi security rushed the stage.

The audience was in chaos.

scholars shouting, some weeping, some cursing me.

I was grabbed by two guards and dragged off the stage.

The cameras were still rolling.

I was taken to a secure room in the conference center and held there for 6 hours.

Saudi officials interrogated me.

What happened to you?

Are you on drugs?

Did someone threaten you?

Did Christians pay you to say this?

I told them the truth.

No one paid me.

No one threatened me.

I encountered Jesus Christ and I cannot deny him.

They said, “You are destroying Islam.

You are giving Christians ammunition.

You are causing fitna division.

Retract your statement.

Say you are exhausted.

Apologize or or we will have you arrested”.

I said, “I will not retract the truth”.

They said, “Then you are no longer welcome in Saudi Arabia.

You will be put on the next flight to Jakarta and we will inform the Indonesian government of what you have done.

That evening, I was escorted to the airport, put on a plane, and flown back to Indonesia, but the damage was already done.

The video of my speech had gone viral.

When I landed in Jakarta on March 5th, 2025, I was met by Indonesian intelligence officials, not airport security, not police.

intelligence.

They took me to a black SUV and drove me to a government facility.

I was brought into an interrogation room.

Three men in suits sat across from me.

One of them said, “Grand Mufty, do you understand what you have done”?

I said, “I told the truth”.

He slammed his hand on the table.

“You told 5,000 Islamic scholars on live television broadcast across 57 countries that you have converted to Christianity.

Do you understand the chaos this has caused?

I was silent.

He continued, “The video of your speech has been viewed 10 million times in the last 12 hours.

It is spreading across Indonesia.

Muslims are confused.

Christians are celebrating.

The Mellis Ulama Indonesia is demanding your immediate arrest.

The president is being pressured to charge you with apostasy.

Do you understand what apostasy means in Indonesia”?

I said, “Yes, I could be imprisoned or killed”.

He leaned forward.

Then retract your statement.

Go on television.

Say you were exhausted, dehydrated, mentally unwell.

I apologize to the Muslim Ummah.

Reaffirm your commitment to Islam and this will go away.

I said, “I will not lie”.

He said, “Then you will be charged with apostasy under article 156A of the Indonesian criminal code, blasphemy against Islam.

You will spend the rest of your life in prison or worse”.

I said, “Jesus told me he would protect me.

I will trust him”.

The man stared at me.

Then he said, “You have 24 hours to issue a public retraction.

If you do not, we will issue a warrant for your arrest.

Do you understand”?

I nodded.

They released me that evening under surveillance.

I went home.

My wife was waiting.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Abdullah, what have you done?

The entire Muslim world is talking about you.

The neighbors are calling you a traitor.

The children are being harassed at school and you have destroyed our family.

Retract your statement please”.

I said, “I cannot”.

She said then I am filing for divorce.

I will not be married to an apistate.

I said nothing.

She left.

I sat alone in my study.

The same study where I had spent 50 years preparing fatwas, writing speeches, teaching Islam.

And I realized I had lost everything.

My position, my reputation, my family, but I had Jesus and that was enough.

The next morning, March 6th, 2025, I set up a camera in my study.

I knew this would be my last chance to speak publicly before I was arrested.

I hit record and I said, “My name is Grand Mui Abdullah Rizek Shihab.

I have not been possessed.

I have not lost my mind.

I have not been paid by Christians.

I have encountered the living Jesus Christ in Mecca, and I will not deny him”.

If you are a Muslim hearing this and I beg you, search the Quran.

Search your heart.

Ask Jesus to reveal himself to you.

He is not a demon.

He is the son of God and he is calling you home.

I uploaded the video to YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram.

And then I waited.

Within 1 hour, the video had 100,000 views.

Within 6 hours, 5 million.

Within 12 hours, the Indonesian government issued a warrant for my arrest.

I had become the most wanted man in Indonesia.

Not for murder, not for terrorism, for following Jesus.

March 7th, 2025, 2 days after I returned from Mecca.

There was a loud knock on my door at 6:00 a.

m.

I opened it.

12 police officers, four intelligence agents.

One of them said, “Grand Mufti Abdullah Reek Shahab, you are under arrest for apostasy under article 156A of the Indonesian criminal code, blasphemy and defamation of Islam”.

They handcuffed me.

They searched my house.

They confiscated my phone, my laptop, my books.

They took me to a detention center in Jakarta.

I was placed in a cell alone under 24-hour surveillance.

For 3 days I was interrogated.

Different agents, different tactics, same questions.

Why did you say Jesus spoke to you?

Who put you up to this?

How much were you paid?

Do you understand that you are causing national unrest?

I told them the truth every time.

No one paid me.

No one threatened me.

I encountered Jesus Christ.

He is alive.

He spoke to me and I will not deny him.

On the third day, they brought in a panel of Islamic scholars, members of the Malis Ulama, Indonesia.

And they sat across from me and said, “Grand Mufti, we have known you for 30 years.

You are one of the greatest scholars in Indonesia.

You have defended Islam your entire life.

We believe you are suffering from a mental breakdown.

We believe exhaustion, stress, and perhaps spiritual attack from Shayan have caused you to fall into delusion.

If you recant, if you publicly renounce this false testimony about Jesus, we will advocate for your release.

We will help you recover.

But if you do not, we will have no choice but to declare you an apostate and support the government’s prosecution.

I looked at them, men I had worked with for decades, men I had prayed with, studied with, debated with, and I said, “My brothers, I am not delusional.

I have not been deceived by Shayan.

I encountered Jesus Christ”.

At the same Issa al- Masi, the Quran testifies about the same Isa who is called the word of God, the spirit of God, sinless, alive, and returning.

I have spent 50 years ignoring what the Quran says about him.

But I cannot ignore it anymore.

He is not just a prophet.

He is the son of God and he is calling you too.

They stared at me in silence.

Then one of them, an old friend, a man I had studied with in Cairo, said, “Then you are lost and we can no longer help you”.

They left.

The next day, the government formally charged me with apostasy, leaving Islam, blasphemy, insulting Islam, inciting religious unrest, causing Muslims to doubt their faith.

Each charge carried a maximum sentence of 5 years in prison.

If convicted on all three, I would spend 15 years behind bars.

My lawyer told me, “Abdullah, the only way you avoid prison is if you recant.

The evidence is overwhelming.

Your own words on video watched by millions.

You have no defense.

Plead guilty.

Apologize.

Recant or you will spend the rest of your life in prison.

I said I will not recant.

He said then there is nothing I can do for you.

But something happened that no one, not the government, not the Melisma, not even I expected.

The messages started coming.

While I was in detention, my family disowned me.

My wife filed for divorce on March 9th, 2025.

The paperwork cited apostasy and abandonment of Islamic values as grounds for immediate enulment.

Under Indonesian Islamic law, a Muslim woman cannot remain married to an apostate.

Our marriage of 35 years was dissolved in one day.

My three children, their two sons and a daughter, all adults, released a public statement.

We, the children of Abdullah Rizek Shahab, publicly disavow our father.

He has abandoned Islam.

He has brought shame upon our family.

He is no longer our father.

We ask the Muslim community to forgive us for his actions and to pray for his repentance or his swift punishment.

My eldest son, who I had raised to be an imam, who I had taught Quran to since he was a child, went on television and said, “My father is a traitor to Islam.

If the government does not punish him, then we as Muslims have a duty to uphold Sharia law ourselves.

Apostasy is punishable by death, and I will not stand in the way of justice”.

He was calling for my execution.

my own son.

My daughter blocked me on all social media.

She changed her last name and she told reporters, “I no longer have a father.

My youngest son, who had always been the gentlest, the most thoughtful, sent me one message while I was in detention.

Dad, I don’t understand.

You taught me that Islam is the truth.

You taught me that Jesus is just a prophet.

You taught me to be strong in my faith and now you have abandoned everything.

How could you do this?

How could you leave us?

I wrote back, “My son, I have not abandoned you.

I have found the truth.

And I pray that one day you will find it, too.

Jesus is not just a prophet.

He is alive.

He is calling you.

I love you.

I will always love you.

But I cannot deny him”.

He never responded.

My extended family, my brothers, my cousins, my uncles cut off all contact.

I was invited to zero family gatherings, zero weddings, zero funerals.

In Indonesian Islamic culture, being an apostate is treated as if he is already dead.

And that is how my family treated me, as if I no longer existed.

The emotional pain was worse than the physical detention.

I had lost my wife, my children, my family.

Everything I had worked for, everything I had built, gone.

I sat in my cell at night and wept.

Not because I regretted following Jesus, but because the cost was so much higher than I had imagined.

But every time I was tempted to give up, I would remember what Jesus said.

I died for you.

Will you not live for me?

And I would pray, “Jesus, I have lost everything, but I have you and you are enough.

Help me, strengthen me, protect me, use me”.

And he did.

On March 14th, 2025, after 7 days in detention, I was released on bail.

The trial was scheduled for April 4th, 2025.

My lawyer told me, “Abdullah, you have 2 weeks.

Use this time to prepare your defense or to flee the country.

I said, “I will not flee.

Jesus told me to tell the truth.

I will stand trial”.

But the moment I was released, I realized I was not safe.

A mob of over 200 Muslims had gathered outside the detention center.

They were holding signs.

Ape estate, traitor, death to Abdullah.

When I stepped outside, they began throwing rocks.

Police had to form a barrier to get me to a car.

Someone in the crowd shouted, “You will not make it to trial.

We will find you, Allahu Akbar”.

I was driven to a safe house, a secret location arranged by a small network of Indonesian Christians who had been following my story.

They told me, “Grand Muy, you are in grave danger.

There are fatwas being issued calling for your execution.

The radical groups are offering money for information about your whereabouts.

You cannot go home.

You cannot go to public places.

You must stay hidden until the trial.

I agreed.

For the next 2 weeks, I lived in a small apartment in an undisclosed location in Jakarta.

I had no phone, no internet, no contact with the outside world.

Just me, a Bible, and a Quran.

I spent those two weeks reading both books side by side.

And for the first time in my life, I read them with open eyes.

I read the Quran’s verses about Issa and instead of explaining them away, I let them speak.

Surah 3:45.

The angels said, “Oh Mariam, Allah gives you good news of a word from him whose name is the Messiah, Isa, son of Mariam.

Jesus is the word of God.

Surah 19:19, he said, “I am only the messenger of your Lord to give you a pure boy.

Jesus is pure, sinless”.

Surah 471.

The Messiah Isa, son of Mariam, was only a messenger of Allah and his word which he sent to Mariam and a spirit from him.

Jesus is a spirit from God.

And then I read the Bible.

John 1:1.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.

John 1:14.

The word became flesh, and made his dwelling among us.

John 14:6.

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.

No one comes to the Father except through me”.

John 10:30.

I and the Father are one.

It was all there.

The Quran pointed to Jesus.

The Bible revealed Jesus, and I had spent 50 years refusing to see it.

But now I saw, and I could never unsee it.

On March 30th, 2025, 5 days before my trial, I received a message from my lawyer.

Abdullah, the prosecution is pushing for the maximum sentence, 15 years in prison.

They have overwhelming evidence, your own video, your own words.

Unless you recant, you will be convicted.

This is your last chance.

I sent back one sentence.

I will not recant.

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