Josh Sullivan, a preacher from Tennessee, was “upset” about the transfer of Nico Iamaleava and was saved in a violent gunfight after being abducted in South Africa.

For Josh Sullivan, a well-known preacher from rural Tennessee, faith has always been his compass. He’s known across the Volunteer State for fiery sermons, biblical passion, and his unwavering devotion to University of Tennessee football. But even he admits nothing could have prepared him for the one-two punch that changed his life in 2025: the heartbreak of losing quarterback Nico Iamaleava to the transfer portal, and surviving a violent abduction in South Africa that nearly cost him his life.

Now back home and slowly recovering from the trauma, Sullivan shared his story publicly for the first time—a story that bridges grief over a beloved football player, the violent chaos of an international crisis, and the unshakable belief that his survival was nothing short of divine intervention.

“It Broke Me”: Sullivan’s Reaction to Nico Iamaleava’s Transfer

When Nico Iamaleava entered the transfer portal earlier this spring, the college football world was stunned. But in East Tennessee, where orange and white run deeper than blood, the news landed like a thunderbolt. Josh Sullivan, who pastors a nondenominational church just outside of Knoxville, took it harder than most.

“I know it sounds crazy, but when Nico left, I cried like I lost a son,” Sullivan said. “He wasn’t just a player to me. He represented a promise. A future. A revival. I called him the ‘Chosen One’ from the moment he stepped foot on Rocky Top.”

Sullivan had preached about Nico in sermons. He used the young quarterback as a metaphor for hope and perseverance, often comparing his dual-threat skills to the biblical David—small in appearance, but mighty in battle.

So when Iamaleava surprisingly announced he would be transferring to a Pac-12 powerhouse (rumored to be UCLA), Sullivan felt betrayed.

“I understand these kids have to do what’s best for them, but I felt like our church, our state—heck, our soul—got ripped out,” he said. “I was upset. I won’t lie. It felt personal. We watched him grow. We prayed for him.”

His reaction was more than emotional. Sullivan began receiving messages and phone calls from fellow fans and parishioners, some equally devastated. A few even called for a day of prayer and fasting for the future of Tennessee football.

“I didn’t know where to direct the grief,” he recalled. “So I booked a mission trip to South Africa. I needed a change of scenery, and I figured doing God’s work might ease the pain.”

It was a decision that would change everything.

A Mission Abroad, A Nightmare Begins

Sullivan landed in Johannesburg, South Africa, in late March to begin a two-week mission trip with a small nonprofit aimed at providing Bibles, meals, and clothing to rural villages. The trip began smoothly. Sullivan said he felt “renewed,” despite still nursing heartbreak over Iamaleava’s departure.

But on the seventh day of the trip, everything unraveled.

“We were driving back from a village outreach when our convoy was ambushed,” Sullivan recounted. “It wasn’t random. It was planned. Three SUVs cut us off, and masked men with rifles pulled us from the vehicle. They beat our driver. They grabbed me and two others. Next thing I know, we’re in the back of a van speeding off into the bush.”

Authorities later confirmed that Sullivan and two other American missionaries were kidnapped by a criminal syndicate known for ransom operations in rural provinces. The abductors demanded a six-figure ransom for each captive, threatening execution if deadlines weren’t met.

Sullivan, restrained and blindfolded, was held in a makeshift encampment in a remote area of Mpumalanga.

“I prayed like never before,” he said. “I kept thinking of my wife, my three daughters. And yes—Tennessee. I know that sounds foolish, but when you’re in a place that dark, your mind clings to anything familiar.”

“I Knew God Was With Me”: Faith in the Fire

Despite the looming threat of execution, Sullivan maintained a striking sense of calm during captivity—something he attributes entirely to his faith.

“There was a night I thought they were going to shoot us. One guy loaded his gun and pointed it right at my head. I just closed my eyes and said, ‘Jesus, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ I was ready. But the shot never came,” he said, his voice shaking.

The captors eventually moved the prisoners to a second location—a half-constructed cement compound surrounded by wilderness. Food was scarce, water even scarcer. Sullivan estimates he lost nearly 18 pounds over the course of nine days.

“They gave us beans, once. That was it. Most days we just drank dirty water or nothing at all,” he said.

Unknown to Sullivan at the time, back in Tennessee, a quiet storm was building. Word of his abduction reached local media. His church launched a prayer vigil that drew over 1,000 people. Social media exploded with #FreeJoshSullivan posts. Even Tennessee head coach Josh Heupel reportedly reached out to the family to offer support.

But rescue seemed impossible—until one of the captives managed to hide a GPS-enabled smartwatch in a sock, triggering a beacon.

“It Sounded Like Thunder”: The Violent Gunfight That Saved Him

On the 10th night of captivity, a tactical team of South African police and private security forces descended on the compound using drones and night vision.

“They hit us at 3:12 a.m.,” Sullivan said. “We heard shouting in Zulu, then gunfire. Explosions. Screams. It sounded like thunder rolling across the hills.”

The rescue, later confirmed by South African authorities, involved a 12-minute shootout that left at least three captors dead and two others captured. Sullivan and the other hostages were found bound but alive in a rear room.

“It was like watching a war movie through a keyhole,” Sullivan said. “I remember the door flying open and seeing a man in camouflage yell, ‘Americans, hands up if you’re alive!’ I started weeping.”

The hostages were airlifted to a medical center in Pretoria and later flown home via diplomatic channels. Sullivan spent five days in recovery before returning to Tennessee.

“I’m Alive. But I’m Changed.”

Since returning home, Sullivan has remained mostly out of the public eye—until now.

He gave this interview to share not only the details of his miraculous survival, but also the perspective he’s gained.

“I used to think losing a football player to the portal was the end of the world,” he said, shaking his head. “Now I know what a real end of the world moment feels like.”

Still, he hasn’t lost his passion for Tennessee football. If anything, it’s deepened.

“I’ll still wear orange every Saturday. I’ll still scream Rocky Top till I’m hoarse. But I’ve learned to hold things more loosely. Even our heroes, our Chosen Ones, they’re just people. And people change. People move on. But God stays the same.”

Sullivan also had a message for Nico Iamaleava.

“If you ever see this, Nico, I still love you, son. I understand now. Sometimes we go where we’re called—even if it hurts others. I did the same. And I paid for it. But I was saved. You can be too.”

A New Purpose

Back at his church, attendance has swelled. The story of his abduction and rescue has turned him into something of a local legend. But Sullivan shrugs off any label of “hero.”

“The heroes are the ones who kicked that door in and got me out,” he said. “The heroes are the people who never stopped praying.”

He’s now planning a memoir and a new series of sermons titled “Grace in the Gunfire.” A local publisher is in talks to distribute a devotional inspired by his captivity experience.

And yes—he plans to be in Neyland Stadium this fall.

“I’m not missing a game. I’ve got my life back. And Tennessee football, even with the heartbreak, is still part of my joy.”

In a strange way, Sullivan says, Iamaleava’s transfer pushed him toward the experience that reshaped his soul.

“I went looking for healing. I found fire. But on the other side of that fire, I found God again.”

And maybe, in the stillness of a Tennessee evening, somewhere between the hymns and highlight reels, Josh Sullivan will keep praying for the next Chosen One. Because even in loss, in heartbreak, and in the darkest moments of captivity, he’s found reason to believe again.