The Minister of Defense

By Matt Green

On the evening of March 11, 2020, the NBA announced it was suspending all public events due to rising cases of COVID-19. The final eight games of the season were played and televised behind closed doors at the ESPN Wide World of Sports Complex in Orlando, which became known as the “NBA Bubble.”

In addition to the global pandemic, the country was facing widespread social unrest stemming from police brutality—much of it impacting the Black community. The crisis came to a head with the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police officers on May 25, 2020, leading to nationwide protests and demonstrations.

The rallying cry of “Black lives matter” evolved from a statement of solidarity with victims of police violence to a broader litmus test of alignment with other social causes. A nation already polarized by pandemic lockdowns, economic uncertainty and a contentious presidential election became a hotbed of shifting loyalties—many of them defined by one’s embrace of or resistance to “BLM.”

But it wasn’t only politicians or actors who were expected to take a side. Four years earlier, San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick had expressed his protest against racial injustice by kneeling during the national anthem. Now, professional athletes were expected to use their platforms to advocate for social justice and signal their positions on the social issues of the day.

It was July 31, 2020, and the Orlando Magic were preparing for a game in the Bubble against the Brooklyn Nets. Twenty-two-year-old Jonathan Isaac was in his third season playing for the team. At 6 feet 10 inches, he had earned a reputation as a fierce defender on the court—one teammate describing him as a “lion in a giraffe’s body.” In addition to his on-court prowess, Isaac was known for being outspoken about his faith, earning him the nickname “Baby Jesus.”

The day before, the New Orleans Pelicans and the Utah Jazz had played in the Bubble. As the national anthem came over the sound system, every member of both teams knelt to express solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. That game was followed by another between the Clippers and Lakers. Again, the players, coaches and referees all knelt during the anthem.

Following the two games, the Magic players and staff gathered for a meeting. Management gave their support to the team kneeling—but with one caveat: “Whatever you decide, do it together.”

The consensus of the players was immediate. “We can’t be the only team not to take a knee,” was the overwhelming sentiment, with only one dissenting player: Jonathan Isaac. When the anthem came over the speakers before the next day’s game, he was the only one standing.

Isaac’s position wasn’t one borne of privilege. He grew up in the Bronx, where his mother was a nurse and his dad managed a McDonald’s. His parents split up when Isaac was 10, and he moved with his mother and siblings to Naples, Florida, where his mother worked multiple jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. Isaac had seen his share of racism and was just as horrified as his teammates by police brutality.

“Because I share in the pain of the moment,” he explained in a recent interview with AVAIL, “doesn’t mean I’m necessarily going to go along with what you feel like is the solution.”

His disagreement isn’t with the sentiments of BLM but with the embrace of a solution he believes ignores the root issue—that we’re all sinners in need of salvation. Although he knew taking such an unpopular stand would result in public criticism, Isaac believed it would also provide him a platform for sharing the gospel.

“Who said this was the only way to support black lives?” he wrote in his 2022 book, Why I Stand, questioning what he believes is the movement’s tendency to divide the races and overlook the sin that lies at the roots of racial violence. Isaac was also bothered by the assumption that he would unquestioningly embrace a cause because everyone else on the team did.

“I want people to see that Jonathan is somebody who is going to think deeply about the issues at hand and try his best to make a decision [based] on whether or not he agrees, disagrees. And he’s OK with being forthcoming about what it is that he believes,” he explains, “I’m my own person, and I’m a Christian and I’m going to let that lead over my Black identity—over anything else.”

Now 26, Isaac is the first to admit this boldness does not come naturally and that he has struggled with confidence since childhood. His junior year in high school, he was living with his mother in Naples, Florida, and was recruited to play basketball at the International School of Broward, a high school on the other side of the state. While at the time Isaac had no aspirations of becoming a pro, others saw his potential. It didn’t hurt that he grew six inches between his freshman and senior years.

When he graduated in 2015, Isaac was ranked No. 1 in Florida, No. 3 small forward in the country, No. 12 overall by 247Sports, No. 9 by ESPN and No. 5 by scoutBasketball. Even with these accolades and a scholarship to Florida State University to play for the Seminoles, he was unprepared for the pressures of college ball. With a massive case of imposter syndrome, Isaac suffered from panic attacks that nearly sidelined his budding career.

“I saw every great thing I had done as something outside myself and every failure as part of me,” he wrote. “I craved accolades and crumbled under criticism.”

Isaac’s struggles continued, even as he was selected by the Magic as the sixth overall pick in the 2017 NBA draft. Although he had been brought up in the church, he hadn’t really taken his faith seriously. A single young man living in a high-rise apartment in downtown Orlando, Isaac was inevitably drawn to the fast life that came with being in the NBA. Invited to a team chapel by teammate Elfrid Payton Jr., Isaac heard the speaker quote from Luke 6:46 and was stunned: “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?”

“I was perplexed about the possible realness of God beyond the childhood stories, family traditions, saying I’m a Christian because it sounds good or mumbling a prayer in youth group service years ago,” he recalled in his book. “I started to imagine what it would really mean for it all to be true, what my life would look like if I actually believed.”

After that night, Isaac threw himself into reading Scripture, apologetics and theology. A turned ankle caused him to miss 17 games. He played two games, and another injury knocked him off the court for 27 more games, giving him time to study and reflect. Then, in a chance encounter in the parking garage of his apartment, Isaac met Bishop Durone Hepburn, founder and senior pastor of J.U.M.P. Ministries Global Church in Orlando.

Hepburn befriended Isaac, and the church community reached out to him, gathering to lay hands on him and pray for his injured ankle, bringing him meals and encouraging him in his growing faith. He not only began attending J.U.M.P., but he came to 5 a.m. prayer meetings at the church when he was in town.

“I had really started to change things about my life. I went celibate, started deleting phone numbers and stopped going to the club and all that stuff,” Isaac recalls. “I said, ‘God, I want you to be first in my life.’ How do I do that? Start stripping stuff away.”

One night around this time, he was alone in his apartment when he felt a distinct prompting from the Holy Spirit to preach—something he’d never considered before. He tried to dismiss the inclination but eventually shared what he was feeling with Hepburn, who promptly invited him to speak to the church.

“‘You’re insane!’” Isaac remembers responding to his pastor. “I fought him a whole bunch. And then he said, ‘You know, you should invite your teammates.’ And I was like, ‘OK, I’m never coming to this church again. ’Cause I’m not going to put myself through that.’”

But he did put himself through that, inviting the same guys he had partied with months before. Although none of his teammates came to the service, he was surrounded by the encouraging faces of his new church family, who clapped and cheered Isaac on for his first sermon—a simple account of his testimony, with reflections on several Scripture passages.

As he looks back at the terrifying moments of his first public speaking at J.U.M.P., Isaac believes these were preparing him for future situations in which he would need to be uncomfortable for the sake of obeying Christ.

“Those were the little moments behind the scenes that prepared me for the bigger moment. Because I took baby steps and found I can trust God when I put him first—He’s got my back. He’s faithful. I didn’t pass out up there,” he recalls, laughing. “I got through it, and then there are more of these little instances of gaining faith to the point where I’m like, ‘This is the right thing, and I’m going to do it.’”

In the years following his first sermon, Isaac’s relationship with his mentor grew stronger, and he regularly sought the bishop’s counsel in decisions relating to faith and life. While successful on the court, he slowly recognized his identity shifting from “Jonathan, the basketball player” to “Jonathan, the follower of Christ who plays basketball.”

He became known in the NBA and on social media as someone vocal about his faith—even as he continued to battle fear and anxiety on and off the court. As he called Hepburn before games to pray, the bishop’s counsel brought him encouragement and clarity. A regular verse Isaac came back to was Proverbs 28:1: “The wicked flee though no one pursues, but the righteous are as bold as a lion.”

His early years with the Magic were not without uncertainty. Frustrating injuries sidelined him for months at a time, but when Isaac was on the court, his reputation as an outspoken Christian and his skill at swatting opponents’ shots away from the net earned him the moniker “Minister of Defense.”

All this culminated in July of 2020, during the surreal early months of the global pandemic. Like most other significant decisions in this life at the time, Isaac shared with Hepburn his plan to stand while his teammates knelt for the anthem. Isaac notes that Hepburn never told him what to do in these situations. He might point to relevant Scripture passages, but in the end, the bishop always asked a single question: “What do you want to do, Jonathan?” Then, he would reassure the young man of his support and prayer, wherever he landed on the question.

Isaac admits the feedback following his decision to stand exposed in himself the desire to please people—many of whom were decidedly not pleased with his actions, labeling him a sellout to his race and to his team. To add injury to insult—literally—Isaac tore his left ACL two weeks later during a game in the Bubble against the Sacramento Kings. For some of his critics on social media, the injury was deserved. “A knee for a knee,” they cynically observed. Although surgery to repair the injury was successful, Isaac would not play again with the team until January 23, 2023.

In the four years since his stand, Isaac has cultivated a reputation as an independent thinker. He questioned pandemic lockdowns and COVID vaccination requirements—a position that caused him to be labeled an anti-vaxxer by Rolling Stone (a description he eschews). In 2021, Isaac married Takita Thomas, a woman he met at J.U.M.P., and they welcomed their daughter, Naomi, in 2023. Unashamedly patriotic, pro-life and pro-family, he regularly speaks out on socially conservative causes, but he resists aligning himself with a political party or candidate.

“I love being in a country where I’m afforded the rights and the freedoms that I have now. There’s a side—definitely more on the conservative side—who lean more toward traditional biblical principles,” Isaac notes. “But neither side owns Christianity. I want God to lead me, I want Christ to be first and I think both sides do a good and bad job of honoring certain principles.”

An outgrowth of his social consciousness led Isaac to question corporate relationships with companies that don’t share his values. Prior to 2020, he had a sponsorship with Nike, but when he tore his ACL, the sportswear behemoth did not offer to re-sign Isaac’s contract. When he shared the news with Hepburn and mentioned he was considering seeking contracts with New Balance or Adidas, his pastor had an alternative suggestion: “Why don’t you make your own shoe?”

It sounded like just another crazy idea from his pastor—and definitely not something that was common in the NBA—but Isaac was drawn to the idea of creating a values-based apparel company. He began exploring what it would take—from manufacturing to marketing—to design a shoe he could wear on the court to promote his values and become the cornerstone of a new brand.

The result was the JUDAH-1, a blue and white midtop sneaker emblazoned with 2 Corinthians 4:9 (“persecuted but not abandoned, struck down, but not destroyed”) and the first NBA signature sneaker with a visible Bible verse on the outside. The brand was named Unitus, a signal to wearers that they are brought together by a commitment to Christian beliefs and actions.

“I wanted to have a brand in the mainstream that was set on honoring God to the best of our ability, a contrast to the likes of Nike, Adidas and other brands,” Isaac explains. He believed none of those brands offered solidarity with people of faith and sometimes even undermined their closely held ideals. Instead, Isaac wanted to “build an entire sports and apparel company that is set on encouraging the believer to stand up for what it is they believe.”

Unitus apparel is currently available on the company’s website, weareunitus.com, and has expanded from the JUDAH-1 to hoodies, T-shirts and sweats. The company is managed by a team of five, and Isaac often finds himself in the weeds alongside his team, learning the ropes of building a business, while juggling family life, speaking engagements and the Magic. When he spoke with AVAIL, Isaac had just gotten off a flight from Los Angeles, where he had meetings with the Unitus team and spoke at an event.

“Never in a million years would I have thought that I’d be able to do what I’m doing right now,” he notes. “To me, it’s a reality of the transformative power of relationship with Christ. We have power through the Holy Spirit and through relationship with Him. So it’s evidence that I’ve grown and I’ve changed and I’ve matured.”

Isaac, who just signed a five-year, $84-million contract extension with the Magic, recognizes every pro ball career has an expiration date, usually defined by age, health and the whims of corporate owners. But for him, basketball has become a means to an end. He sees the platform he’s been given as an opportunity to live out his faith in public, ground his family in a local church and build a lifestyle brand that unites people with shared convictions.

“In all the ways our culture has departed from God being at the center—that’s my platform. It’s not because I’m perfect, not because I’ve done everything right, but because I know that it’s the truth,” Isaac explains. “So, whenever there’s an opportunity, I try my best to be vocal about it. For me to be an NBA player, for me to have the background I’ve had in terms of everything that I’ve struggled with in my past, it makes sense why I needed to go through that process of finding Christ and getting where I am now.”

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Matt Green is the editorial director for AVAIL Journal. He also serves as vice president of marketing for Pioneers, a global church-planting organization based in Orlando, Florida. He lives in Central Florida with his wife, Andy. They have four children and one grandchild.