John MacArthur’s death felt momentous. Though illness had caused his public ministry to decline in the years before he died, he was still a larger-than-life figure in the church, and in some ways his passing felt like the handing of a baton from one generation to the next. There is no doubt that his legacy will far outlast him, and rightly so.
In the days following MacArthur’s death, I read many articles and obituaries. I saw many X and Facebook posts that reflected on his legacy, and I glimpsed many photos and memes that did the same. One of the recurring themes was the welcome he must have received in heaven—a hero’s welcome for a man so many of us regarded as a hero on earth. Some of those who admired him seemed to have imagined that the bells of heaven rang a little louder as he was welcomed in, that the crowds gathered a little tighter, and that the cheers rose a little higher. The Lord doesn’t tell us a whole lot about what it is like to enter heaven, but the way these people imagined it, there must have been a special stir in that moment.
I think I have made it clear through the years that I have a great deal of respect for John MacArthur, so what follows needs to be taken in that light. I mean to honor him in this article. With that in mind, here is what I think we should consider: is it possible that John MacArthur’s arrival in heaven did not make an unusually large ripple? Is it possible that the day he arrived, the bells rang just as loud for many others? Is it possible that the way we think about his reception shows that we don’t think very well about heaven?
John MacArthur was a man of many and varied gifts. When God distributed talents, there is little doubt that where some received two or one, MacArthur got the full five (see Matthew 25:14-30). He received God’s gifts, fostered them, and maximized them. He had talent, drive, intellect, and charisma in great measure, and he made good on it all. Whenever I was in a room with him, I was struck that every person looked to him to lead, even when he wasn’t ostensibly in charge. He had that bearing, that experience, that history of accomplishment, that je ne sais quoi. He was an impressive individual and I’m thankful to have known the man and the legend who was John MacArthur.
But it’s important to remind ourselves that God’s Kingdom is utterly upside down. It is so different from how we naturally imagine it and so different from any kingdom we would ever create. It’s the kind of Kingdom in which the ones who are considered the least on earth are considered the greatest in heaven. In that light, if there are heroes’ welcomes to be had in heaven, I suspect they are most often for people who were the least noticed on earth, rather than the most noticed.
Why? Because God distributes accolades and awards that are in proportion to what he has entrusted to each individual. To the one to whom much is given, much is required, and it is often these people who become widely known, since the “much” they have been given propels them into the public eye. Yet visibility is not a necessary mark of faithfulness, or even a particularly accurate one. There are many faithful people entrusted with great gifts who labor in obscurity, and many entrusted with small gifts who labor in complete anonymity. Both may be every bit as faithful as the ones whose names we know, or even more so. It was the poor widow with just two copper coins whom Jesus praised, not the wealthy or powerful who undoubtedly gave far more and received many more plaudits from others.
When we imagine that the most visible Christians on earth receive the most joyous welcome in heaven, we may be proving that our thinking has been more shaped by the kingdom of this world than by the Kingdom of Heaven, and that we have transposed the values of this kingdom onto the next. We may be assuming that the most faithful people are the most widely known, or that what constitutes celebrity on earth is in any way relevant in heaven. Our sentimentality may expose inaccurate theology.
I did not know John MacArthur all that well, but I think I knew him well enough to be certain that he could not have cared less whether he was in the headlines of the Celestial Daily on July 14, 2025, or whether his name appeared ten or twenty pages in. Whether or not great hosts gathered to laud him for his faithfulness, I am certain his sole concern was to meet only one man there and to hear that man’s words of welcome and affirmation: Well done, good and faithful servant. I am convinced he heard those words and is still basking in the joy of the one who spoke them.
