11/05/2026
The Story of Brother Issa Suhail’s Embrace of Islam
Adapted by Sheikh Faisal Al-Sharif
From the Church of Palestine to the Light of Islam
I was born a Christian, into a Christian family from Palestine, belonging to the Greek Orthodox tradition. I grew up in a home familiar with the church, in an environment where the name of Christ, peace be upon him, was present from my childhood. I studied in private schools affiliated with the Catholic Church, learned something about Christianity there, and used to go with my grandfather to church in the city center on Sundays.
I carried a Christian identity, a Christian name, and memories connected to the church, prayers, and holidays. I lived in Palestine, a land where most people are Muslim. Although Palestinians are known for coexistence and neighborliness, I sometimes felt a kind of alienation: the alienation of someone living among people who differed from him in religion, even while sharing the same language, homeland, and blood.
After finishing high school in Palestine, I traveled to America for my studies. There, I studied economics, completed my bachelor’s degree, and continued until I earned my master’s degree and PhD in the same field.
When I arrived in America, I thought the page of pain had been turned and that a new life had begun. I had left a country that knew occupation, fear, and anxiety, and entered a vast country that appeared safe, wealthy, organized in its streets, and advanced in its universities and institutions.
I said to myself:
Here, the suffering ends.
Here, I begin again.
Here, I will forget the past, forget that I am a Palestinian burdened by memories of war, and live as an American immigrant, speaking English and integrating into this new society.
Because I was Christian, I thought I would find a stronger religious sense of belonging in America, since most of its people at that time identified as Christian. I thought I would find a society closer to my religion and farther from my alienation.
But the surprise was that the alienation I had fled from did not end. Rather, another alienation began—deeper and more painful: the alienation of the soul.
At first, I was amazed by the development, order, security, roads, universities, buildings, opportunities, and the life that appeared bright from the outside. But as the days passed, that brightness began to fade, and an inner question started knocking powerfully on my heart:
Is this life?
Eating, drinking, working, degrees, money—then what?
Where is meaning?
Where is tranquility?
Where is God in people’s lives?
I began to see that America, despite its material prosperity, was missing something great—something money cannot buy, degrees cannot grant, factories cannot produce, and laws alone cannot create.
I began to miss things I had seen in the Muslim community in Palestine, though at the time I had not truly understood their value.
I missed honoring parents. I saw fathers and mothers living alone, or being left in nursing homes after spending their lives raising their children. I saw cold relationships, few visits, and weak family ties. I remembered how Muslims in my homeland honored the rights of the mother and father, and how the family among them was not merely a legal relationship, but a covenant of mercy and loyalty.
I also missed respect for elders. Once, I ordered a taxi, and beside me was an elderly American woman waiting on the road. When the taxi arrived, I asked the driver to take her instead of me, out of consideration for her age and weakness. But he refused and said, “You ordered the taxi, not her.”
It was a small incident outwardly, but it was great in my heart. I said to myself: What kind of civilization organizes the queue but does not awaken mercy? What kind of progress protects the right of reservation but does not recognize the right of the elderly? Where is kindness that comes from the heart before it is imposed by law?
In terms of relationships, I had Muslim friends in Palestine. Although I was Christian, and despite my long absence in America, they would still message me and ask about me. They remembered me, checked on me, and made me feel that I was not forgotten. In contrast, I found that many of those who shared my Christian identity in America did not ask about me, did not miss me, and had only superficial ties with me—except those whom God had mercy upon.
I felt that life there was individualistic, cold, and harsh. Everyone revolved around himself, and everyone was busy with his own interests. As for family ties, neighbors, elders, strangers, and the poor, these meanings had weakened in the lives of many people.
Then I saw the spread of alcohol, drugs, fornication, and forbidden relationships. I saw how it had become normal for a young man to have a girlfriend before marriage, for a woman to live with a man without a contract or covenant, and for immorality to become a lifestyle—even though their own scriptures clearly forbid adultery and indecency.
I used to ask myself: How can people claim religion while being so bold in disobeying God? How can texts remain in books, yet be expelled from life? How can religion become a memory, the church become a habit, and morality become a personal opinion?
All of this shook me from within. I began to understand that the problem was not a lack of laws, but the absence of fear of God. It was not weakness in the system, but weakness in faith. It was not poverty, for these people had money, but poverty of the heart.
There, I began to realize that material progress alone is not enough. A person may own a house, a car, and a degree, yet still be lost inside. He may live in a safe country while his heart is disturbed. He may possess freedom, yet be enslaved to his desires. He may possess the world, yet not know why he was created or where he is going.
I began to feel that religion is not rituals performed once a week, nor an identity written on papers, nor merely a heritage passed from parents to children. Religion is the light that guides a person, the scale that regulates his life, the mercy that reforms his heart, and the compass that shows him the way.
In 2014, while studying for my master’s degree in economics, I was dealing with professors who were highly respected in their fields. I would enter discussions with them about politics, economics, justice, capitalism, morality, and the meaning of freedom.
I would ask questions and listen to answers, but I kept noticing something repeated: whoever does not rely on fixed revelation falls into many contradictions. Today he makes something true, and tomorrow he makes it false. Today he calls something a virtue, and years later calls it backwardness. Today he fights against something, then when society’s mood changes, he begins defending it.
So I asked myself:
Does truth change according to people’s desires?
Are morals created by voting?
Are halal and haram determined by media, universities, and parliaments?
Is weak and changing man fit to be the source of absolute truth?
I felt that I needed a reference point that does not change, a light that is not subject to human desires, words from God—not from minds that change or desires disguised as freedom.
During this search, I used to listen to videos on YouTube. One day, I came across the story of an American man who had embraced Islam. I did not expect that story to shake me, but it became the beginning of a door that God opened for me.
The man mentioned a verse from the Noble Qur’an, in which Allah says:
“Those who say that Allah is the third of three have certainly disbelieved.”
Al-Ma’idah 5:73
Then I heard the saying of Allah:
“Those who say that Allah is the Messiah, son of Mary, have certainly disbelieved.”
Al-Ma’idah 5:72
These two verses struck my heart like a thunderbolt. I did not merely hear words; I felt as though I was being summoned to stand before God. For the first time, I felt a deep fear. I said to myself:
What if the Qur’an is true?
What if I am worshiping God in a way He does not accept?
What if Christ was a servant and messenger, and I had raised him above his true station?
What if I stand before God on the Day of Judgment and it is said to me: Did you not hear? Did you not search? Were you not given a mind and a heart?
This was not a cold intellectual debate. It was the fear of a servant beginning to feel that his eternal destiny was at stake.
So I said to myself: I must give Christianity one final chance. I must search sincerely. If it has an answer that brings peace to the heart, then let it appear. And if the Qur’an is true, then there is no salvation except by following the truth.
At that time, I had a car, and I learned of an Arab church similar to the church I used to attend with my grandfather when I was young. I began going there every Sunday, even though it was a full hour away by car. I wanted to return to my roots, to hear from people of my own language and religion, to find an answer that would extinguish the fire burning inside me.
I found Arab Christians like myself, befriended them, and spoke with them. But I did not find what I was searching for. I found many kind people, but I did not find certainty. I found religious habit, but not proof that filled the heart. In fact, I saw that some of them, or their children, had dissolved into American society, until nothing remained of religion except the name and some outward appearances.
And here began the real journey of searching.
I studied Christianity and Islam intensively. I read in Arabic and English, looked into texts from Greek and Hebrew, read arguments and responses, examined Eastern religions, and studied the objections of atheists and skeptics. I did not want to choose a religion merely because I was born into it, nor leave a religion merely because of emotion. I wanted the truth, even if it was against myself, even if it opposed my family, even if it destroyed the image I had grown up with.
I would pray to God sincerely:
O Lord, if You know that I want the truth, then guide me to it.
O Lord, do not leave me to myself, to people’s customs, or to fear of society.
O Lord, show me truth as truth and grant me the ability to follow it.
My Reflections on the Bible
While reading the Bible, I began to pause at texts I had never reflected on so deeply before—texts that made me reconsider my old belief and compare it with the pure monotheism brought by Islam.
1. The Greatest Commandment: God is One
I read in the Old Testament:
“Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one.”
Deuteronomy 6:4
Then I found that Christ himself, peace be upon him, when asked about the greatest commandment, answered with the same text:
“The first of all commandments is: Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.”
Mark 12:29
I paused for a long time. This was not a minor issue; it was the greatest commandment. Christ himself clearly affirmed it: the Lord is one.
So I said: If Christ made the greatest commandment the oneness of God, why did belief later become so complicated? Why did people begin speaking about persons, essence, union, incarnation, two natures, and concepts that ordinary people cannot understand? Did the prophets come to place between creation and their Lord a complicated creed that only theologians and philosophers could grasp?
Then I read the saying of Christ in the Gospel of John:
“This is eternal life: that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You sent.”
John 17:3
The text was clear in my heart:
“You, the only true God”
Then:
“Jesus Christ whom You sent”
Here I saw the distinction between the true God and the sent messenger. Christ did not say, “I am the true God.” Rather, he addressed God, distinguished himself from Him, and said that he was sent.
I found that this clearly agrees with what Islam teaches: that Christ is the servant and messenger of Allah, His word which He cast to Mary, and a spirit from Him—not God, not the son of God, and not a partner in Lordship.
2. Christ Prayed and Prostrated
Then I read that Christ, peace be upon him, used to pray, supplicate, and prostrate. Among this is what appears in the Gospel of Matthew:
“He went a little farther, fell on his face, and prayed.”
Matthew 26:39
I paused again.
Who prostrates?
The one in need, or the One who is absolutely self-sufficient?
The servant, or the Lord?
The created, or the Creator?
I said to myself: If Christ is God, then to whom was he praying? If he prostrated, to whom did he prostrate? If he supplicated, whom was he hoping in? Does God fear and plead? Does God say to another: “Let Your will be done”?
These questions were not mockery or argumentation. They were the cry of a heart searching for salvation.
Then I found that Islam answers with magnificent simplicity: Christ is a noble prophet, a chosen servant, who worshiped God and called people to worship Him. He was not God and did not claim divinity. Rather, he came as the prophets before him came—with monotheism.
Allah says about Christ, peace be upon him:
“He was only a servant upon whom We bestowed favor.”
Az-Zukhruf 43:59
And Allah says:
“The Messiah, son of Mary, was no more than a messenger.”
Al-Ma’idah 5:75
I felt that Islam does not diminish Christ. Rather, it saves him from exaggeration and returns him to his great and correct station: a servant of God, a messenger from among the greatest messengers, and a word from Allah cast to Mary.
3. The Prophet to Come After Moses
Among the texts that deeply affected me was what appears in Deuteronomy:
“I will raise up for them a prophet from among their brothers, like you, and I will put My words in his mouth.”
Deuteronomy 18:18
I reflected on this text for a long time.
A prophet like Moses.
From the brothers of the Children of Israel.
God places His words in his mouth.
I began to compare: who resembles Moses more—Jesus or Muhammad, peace be upon them both?
Moses and Muhammad, peace be upon them, both came with law, led a nation, migrated, were harmed, then were granted victory by God. Both had followers, a state, a system, and legislation. As for Jesus, peace be upon him, he is a great and noble prophet, but he did not come with an independent law like the law of Moses, he was not the leader of a state, and his situation among his people was not like that of Moses.
Then the phrase “from among their brothers” caught my attention. The brothers of the Children of Israel are the Children of Ishmael. The Arabs are from the descendants of Ishmael, and Muhammad ﷺ is from them.
The text became even clearer to me with the phrase: “I will put My words in his mouth.” This matches the case of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ with the Qur’an. He did not compose it from himself; he recited the words of Allah as they were revealed to him.
I began to feel that this text was not far from Muhammad ﷺ. Rather, it was among the strongest matters that opened the heart to consider his prophethood.
4. The Chosen Servant and the Land of Kedar
Then I read in Isaiah 42 about a chosen servant who brings truth to the nations, and I found in the context a mention of Kedar. Kedar is from the descendants of Ishmael and is connected to the Arabs.
This caught my attention. The passage speaks about a chosen servant, light for the nations, a new song of praise, and guidance extending beyond the Children of Israel—then Kedar is mentioned. All of this made me feel that there was a great glad tiding that should not pass without reflection.
I did not claim that I understood everything from the first reading, but I began to see a clear thread: prophethood was not restricted to the Children of Israel; God is able to send a prophet from the descendants of Ishmael; and that prophet would carry light to the nations.
This was consistent with what I saw in Islam: a universal message, an Arab prophet, a Qur’an recited, and a nation that includes Arab and non-Arab, white and black, rich and poor.
5. The Glad Tiding of the One to Come After Christ
I also reflected on texts in the Gospel of John that speak about the one who would come after Christ, such as the mention of the “Spirit of Truth” who guides to the truth. I knew that church interpretation connects this to the Holy Spirit, but I began to ask sincerely: Could there be in these texts remnants of a glad tiding of a messenger who would come after Christ? Could Christ have informed his followers of someone who would come after him to guide people to the truth?
Then I found that the Qur’an states this meaning clearly:
“And when Jesus, son of Mary, said: O Children of Israel, I am the messenger of Allah to you, confirming what came before me of the Torah and giving glad tidings of a messenger to come after me, whose name is Ahmad.”
As-Saff 61:6
Here, the picture began to become complete in my heart. Islam does not ask me to hate Christ; it teaches me to love him correctly. It does not ask me to reject the prophets; it commands me to believe in all of them. It does not destroy the status of Jesus, peace be upon him; rather, it raises him from being worshiped by people to being followed in his message, in which he called to the worship of God alone.
The Purity of Monotheism
The more I read about Islam, the more I found its belief clear, pure, and strong—needing no complication or philosophy.
God is One.
He has no partner.
He neither begets nor is begotten.
He needs no one.
He does not dwell inside creation.
He does not die.
He is not crucified.
No one overcomes Him.
Nothing resembles Him.
He sends messengers, reveals scriptures, and guides whom He wills to a straight path.
Then I read Surah Al-Ikhlas:
“Say: He is Allah, One. Allah, the Eternal Refuge. He neither begets nor is born. And there is none comparable to Him.”
It was a short chapter, but it was as if it destroyed mountains of confusion. I felt that it spoke directly to the natural human disposition. No riddles, no contradiction, no god who dies, no lord who is crucified, no Creator in need of creation, no son, no partner, no mediator worshiped besides God.
Allah is One.
Allah is the Eternal Refuge.
The confusion ended.
Then I read the saying of Allah:
“There is nothing like unto Him.”
Ash-Shura 42:11
So I said: This is the transcendence that befits God. This is the Lord whom the natural disposition seeks: a Lord who is great, perfect, self-sufficient, exalted, near by His knowledge and mercy, and far above resembling His creation.
The Moment of Certainty
As my search continued, I began to see that Islam is not merely another religion among religions. Rather, it is the religion that explains everything: creation, purpose, trial, death, the Hereafter, prophethood, morality, worship, family, and society.
I found in it reason and revelation, mercy and firmness, worship and action, this world and the next. I found in it an answer to the question of the soul, not merely a social system. I found in it a Lord worshiped alone, a prophet to be followed, a preserved book, and a law that reforms the human being from within before regulating him from without.
When I read the Qur’an, I felt that it was speaking to me personally. It addressed my fear, confusion, alienation, questions, sins, and weakness. Every time I read about Allah in the Qur’an, I felt as though I was getting to know my Lord for the first time in a pure way: a Lord who is Merciful, All-Knowing, Wise, severe in punishment, Forgiving, Near, and Responsive.
After a long search, comparison, reading, prayer, and reflection on the Bible—what had been altered or interpreted within it, and what remained in it of signs of monotheism and glad tidings—I became certain that Islam is the clear truth.
In Ramadan of that year, Allah opened my chest to Islam, and I pronounced the two testimonies of faith:
I bear witness that there is no god worthy of worship except Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.
That moment was the greatest moment of my life.
I did not feel that I had left Christ; rather, I felt that I had truly come to know him.
I did not feel that I had betrayed my childhood; rather, I felt that I had saved it from illusion.
I did not feel that I had lost my identity; rather, I had found my true identity: a servant of Allah alone.
I came to know that Jesus, peace be upon him, is a noble prophet, a righteous servant, a chosen messenger who called to monotheism and gave glad tidings of the one who would come after him. And I came to know that Muhammad ﷺ is the final prophet, and that the Qur’an is the light by which Allah brings whomever He wills out of darkness into light.
At that moment, I felt that I had left confusion for certainty, complexity for clarity, worship of creation for worship of the Creator, and the alienation of the soul for the homeland of faith.
After Islam
After embracing Islam, I understood why I had missed in America those meanings I had seen among Muslims in Palestine: honoring parents, maintaining family ties, modesty, respect for elders, protecting the family, staying away from immorality, the meaning of worship, and submission to God.
I understood that these were not merely Eastern customs or social traditions. Rather, they are the effects of a great religion. If it enters the heart, it reforms it. If it enters the home, it illuminates it. If it enters society, it protects it from collapse.
I realized that Islam is not merely a word spoken by the tongue. It is a complete way of life: prayer that connects you to Allah, fasting that breaks your desires, zakah that purifies your wealth, Hajj that reminds you of your final return, a Qur’an that guides you every day, and a Sunnah that teaches you how to live as a servant of Allah in every small and great matter.
Today, I praise Allah who guided me, and I would never have been guided had Allah not guided me. I ask Him to keep me firm upon Islam until I meet Him, and to make this story a cause for guiding a heart that is searching for the truth.
And I say to every seeker of truth:
Do not make habit your religion.
Do not let fear of people prevent you from following the evidence.
Do not say: “This is how I was born, and this is how I will die.”
Allah gave you a mind to think, a heart to humble itself, a life to search, and revelation to be guided by.
Ask Allah sincerely, read with fairness, search with honesty, and fear nothing except standing before Allah while turning away from the truth after knowing it.
Whoever is truthful with Allah, Allah will guide him.
Allah says:
“As for those who strive for Our sake, We will surely guide them to Our ways. And indeed, Allah is with the doers of good.”
Al-‘Ankabut 29:69
And all praise is due to Allah, Lord of the worlds.
Soon, by the permission of Allah, look forward to the story of my mother and siblings embracing Islam, and how Allah opened their hearts to the truth.
Adapted by: Faisal Saad Al-Sharif
TikTok clip: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS9ctLHcC/
