I Tried Burning 50 Bibles to Prove Islam Was Superior Then Jesus Stopped Me

 I Tried Burning 50 Bibles to Prove Islam Was Superior Then Jesus Stopped Me

Testimony: My name is Rashid. I am 28 years old and I was born in Jakarta, Indonesia.  in one of the most devout Muslim neighbourhoods in Southeast Asia. In March 2021, I organized the most blasphemous act I could imagine against Christianity. But that's when Jesus Christ intervened in my life in a way that shattered everything I thought Iknew about God. 

Let me tell you how the son of God rescued me from spiritual darkness through a miracle I never saw coming. I need to take you back to understand who I was before Jesus found me. 

My full name is Rashid bin Ahmad Hidayat and I was born into a family of respected Islamic scholars and community leaders. My grandfather had been an imam at the largest mosque in our district for 40 years and my father continued that legacy by teaching Islamic jurisprudence at the Islamic University of Jakarta. Our family home was a center of Islamic learning and devotion. 

We lived in a traditional compound that housed three generations of our family with prayer rooms in every section and Islamic calligraphy covering the walls. From my earliest memories, my life revolved around the mosque, religious study, and defending Islam against what my family called the corrupting influence of Western Christianity. 

I was awakened every morning at 4:15 by my father for Fajr prayer. Before l even wash my face, I was reciting verses from the Qur'an that I had memorized since l could speak. My education was split between regular schooling and intensive Islamic instruction from the most conservative teachers my family could find. By age 14, I had memorized significant portions of the Qur'an and could recite hadith collections with the precision  that impressed even the strictest scholars. 

Ask yourself this question. Have you ever been so  convinced of your beliefs that you couldn't imagine questioning them? 

That was me. I lived and breathed Islam with a militant devotion that went beyond simple faith into  active hostility toward anyone who challenged Islamic supremacy. Every aspect of my day revolved around Islamic practice and defending the faith against perceived enemies. I prayed five times daily with genuine fervor. Fasted during Ramadan with pride in my endurance and gave zakat charity while secretly judging those I considered less devout.

When other young men my age were playing soccer or pursuing normal hobbies,  I was attending Islamic debate forums and studying apologetics designed to refute Christian claims about Jesus. My reputation as a fierce defender of Islam spread throughout our community and online. 

At age 19, I started a YouTube channel dedicated to exposing what I called Christian lies and distortions. My videos attacked the Trinity, the crucifixion, the reliability of the Bible, and the divinity of Christ with  arguments I had learned it from anti Christian Islamic scholars. The channel grew rapidly, attracting thousands of subscribers who praised my passion for defending Islam and and humiliating Christian missionaries who tried to engage with Muslims. I believed every argument I made. I thought I was doing Allah's work by preventing Muslims from being deceived by Christian evangelism and by showing the world that Islam was the only true faith. The online Islamic community celebrated me as a young warrior for the faith. Established Islamic apologists, shared my videos, and invited me to collaborate on projects designed to counter Christian influence in Indonesia.I received messages daily from Muslims around the world thanking me for defending Islam and encouraging me to continue my aggressive approach to religious debate. My ego grew with every view and every comment, praising my knowledge and dedication. I felt chosen by Allah to be a champion of Islam in the modern age. Someone who could use technology and media to spread Islamic truth and expose Christian falsehood to millions of people. But looking back now I can see the spiritual darkness that was consuming my soul. 

Despite all my religious activity and the praise I received from the Islamic community, I felt an emptiness inside that I refused to acknowledge. After particularly intense debates with Christians.  online, instead of feeling victorious, l often felt angry and unsettled in ways I couldn't explain. The Islamic teachings about Allah's absolute sovereignty and predestination created anxiety and predestination created anxiety in my heart about whether I was truly among the chosen or destined for hell.

   I witnessed hypocrisy among the Islamic leaders l admired most. The scholars who taught me to defend Islamic purity were often involved in corrupt business dealings, treated women with disrespect, and showed none of the spiritual fruits they claimed Islam produced. These were the same men who had taught me that Islam was morally superior to Christianity in every way. Seeing their double lives planted seeds of doubt that I desperately tried to suppress through even more aggressive religious activity. 

The poverty and suffering I saw in my own Muslim majority community also troubled me deeply. Despite all our Islamic devotion and the claims about Islam devotion and the claims about Islam creating the perfect society, I saw corruption, injustice, and the spiritual emptiness. 

Everywhere I looked, families struggled while religious leaders lived in luxury. Young people were leaving the faith or practicing Islam only superficially. 

The Islam I promoted online seemed disconnected from the reality I witnessed daily. 

When I questioned respected imams about these contradictions, they gave me complex theological explanations about Allah's will and the corrupting influence of Western culture that never really addressed my concerns. Everything felt hollow, like we were performing religion without experiencing genuine spiritual transformation. 

As l entered my mid20s, my anti-Christian activism intensified. 

I joined a group of young Muslim activists who organized public demonstrations against Christian evangelism in Indonesia. We protested outside churches, disrupted Christian events and created online campaigns to pressure the government to restrict Christian missionary activity. 

The anger I felt toward Christians grew more personal and hateful. I convinced myself that they were enemies of Islam who deserved to be opposed and humiliated at every opportunity. 

The religious justification for my hostility came easily from Islamic texts about fighting those who opposed Allah's message. 

I thought I was the most devoted Muslim in my generation. But deep inside something was profoundly wrong. Every religious achievement, every debate victory, every new subscriber to my channel only seemed to highlight the growing void in my soul. I performed all the external requirements of Islam perfectly. But I felt spiritually dead inside. The Allah I was supposed to love felt distant,  unpredictable, and impossible to please. 

No matter how hard I tried, something was missing. But I buried those doubts deep, convincing myself that more activism, more study, more religious performance would eventually fill the emptiness. I had no idea that Jesus Christ was already preparing to confront me with truth that would destroy my Islamic worldview and rescue me from the spiritual prison I had built around my heart. 

The plan began forming in my mind in February 2021. Our activist group had been discussing increasingly aggressive tactics to counter what we saw as a dangerous rise in Christian conversions   among young Indonesian Muslims. 

Some members suggested protests, others wanted legal action, but I proposed something that would send a message that couldn't be ignored. I suggested we organize a public burning of Christian  Bibles to demonstrate Islamic supremacy and show our contempt for what we considered a corrupted scripture. The idea was met with enthusiasm from some members and hesitation from others who worried about legal consequences and international backlash. But my reputation as a fearless defender of Islam gave me influence over the group. 

 l argued that bold action was necessary to wake up Muslims who had become too tolerant of Christian evangelism. I quoted verses from Islamic textes about destroying false scriptures and reminded everyone of Islamic history where books contradicting Islam had been burned. 

Over the following weeks, I took charge of planning the event with obsessive dedication. We identified a location in a public park where we could gather without immediate police interference. I used my social media following to promote the event, framing it as a demonstration of Islamic strength and a warning to Christians who dared to challenge Islamic truth. The response from my online community was overwhelmingly supportive. Thousands of comments praised my courage and commitment to defending Islam. Some urged caution, but most encouraged me to proceed with the Bible burning as a necessary statement against Christian aggression. 

I personally collected the Bibles we would burn. Purchasing them from Christian bookstores while disguising my intentions. Each time l handled those books, I felt a mixture of contempt and strange unease that I couldn't quite explain. Something about