They Called Him Crazy. He Kept Preaching.
The Chicago Bulls waived Jaden Ivey for citing Romans 1. One week later, he was on a street corner in Auburn, Alabama, quoting the Sermon on the Mount. That is not a breakdown. That is a commission.
The Chicago Bulls waived Jaden Ivey for citing Romans 1. One week later, he was on a street corner in Auburn, Alabama, quoting the Sermon on the Mount. That is not a breakdown. That is a commission.
One week ago, the Chicago Bulls waived Jaden Ivey for calling the NBA's celebration of Pride Month "unrighteous." The mechanism was swift and familiar: a conduct clause, an afternoon, a press release.
This past weekend, Jaden Ivey was on a street corner in Auburn, Alabama, preaching the Gospel to anyone who would stop and listen. A group stood behind him holding a sign: "Jesus died for you. God loves you and wants to save you from your sins. Repent of sin. Believe the Gospel. Obey Jesus."
In the clip, Ivey quoted the Beatitudes: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
The video went viral. The response was immediate. Some praised him. Many called him unstable. The word "crazy" appeared in more headlines than his name.
Ivey lost his NBA contract on March 30. He was rehabbing a knee injury at the time, had not been with the team, and by his own account had done exactly what was required of him professionally. He was waived not for conduct on the court but for words on Instagram — specifically for citing Scripture to call the NBA's ideological alignment with Pride Month what he believed it to be: unrighteous.
His response to losing the contract was not to hire a publicist, issue an apology, or seek reinstatement. He went to the streets.
What he said on that street corner was not inflammatory. It was the Beatitudes — among the most foundational passages in the New Testament, delivered by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount to a crowd that had gathered to hear him teach. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. This is not fringe theology. This is the center of the Christian tradition.
The crowd called it crazy.
Jesus told his disciples plainly: If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. (John 15:18). He did not say the world might push back. He said it would hate. He named it in advance so that when it came, his followers would not be surprised by it — and would not mistake the hatred for evidence that something had gone wrong.
Something has not gone wrong with Jaden Ivey. Something has gone exactly as Jesus said it would.
The people calling him unstable are applying a cultural standard: a person who loses a multimillion-dollar contract and responds by going to a street corner to preach the Beatitudes is, by the metrics of the world, behaving irrationally. That assessment is correct on its own terms. By the world's metrics, it is irrational. Paul said as much: the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing. (1 Corinthians 1:18).
But a Guardian does not evaluate faithfulness by the world's metrics.
Jesus also said: Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division. (Luke 12:51). The cost of following Jesus includes the cost of division — from institutions, from cultural consensus, and sometimes from people who are close to you. That is not a design flaw. That is what Jesus said would happen to the people who carry his name into the rooms that do not want it.
The question this week's Ivey story asks is not whether his delivery is perfect. It is not. He is 24 years old, newly surrendered to Christ, processing in public on platforms his generation grew up on. He is loud, unpolished, and sometimes imprecise. These are formation gaps, not character failures.
The question is what a person does when the institution removes them.
Ivey's answer: he went where the institution couldn't follow. The NBA can revoke a contract. It cannot revoke a street corner. The Bulls can remove him from a roster. They cannot remove him from Auburn, Alabama, or Chicago, or wherever he goes next with a sign behind him and the Beatitudes on his lips.
He said it himself: "All I can do is speak truth. No one can stop me. I have a mouth to speak."
That is not a breakdown. That is a commission.
The Guardian Standard covered Ivey's waiver last Wednesday under The Cost of Conviction. The cost was documented. This week the commission is visible.
The formation question is the same one it always is: what do you do when the official platform is taken away? Do you manage your way back to acceptability? Do you go quiet? Or do you go to the street corner?
Ivey chose the street corner. He is 24 years old, newly formed, imperfect in his delivery, and preaching the Sermon on the Mount in Auburn, Alabama, to anyone who will stop.
He is not crazy. He is commissioned. The world does not know the difference — and Jesus told us it wouldn't.
Learn more about The Guardians' Cross → theguardianscross.org