I was on vacation when I learned that John MacArthur had gone to be with the Lord. It was the kind of vacation where I was not so disconnected that I missed the news, but I was disconnected enough that I chose not to write about it. I need to make sure I take times of true rest, and for me, that involves staying as far away as possible from a keyboard.
But with vacation behind me and real life returning, the first thing I wanted to do was jot down some thoughts about MacArthur. I need to be clear that while I knew him and spent time with him on quite a number of occasions, I did not know him well. My sympathies go to those who did know him well and who will therefore miss him the most. That’s especially true of his children and grandchildren, several of whom I know and appreciate. Because others have written tributes that focus on his pulpit ministry, book writing, leadership, and much else, I thought I would offer just a few personal memories.
The first memory I have of MacArthur is not of the man himself but of one of his books. I have often been asked which books have been most formative in my life and my answer always includes Ashamed of the Gospel. When I first found the book on the shelves of a local Christian bookstore, I am quite certain I did not know who John MacArthur was. But at the time, I was attending a church styled on the church growth methodology and Ashamed of the Gospel explained my every discomfort with it. It was truly life-changing in the way it exposed the principle of pragmatism and called upon church leaders to carefully pay attention to the Bible’s description of a healthy church. That book was instrumental in leading me to a truly healthy church, and in that way, it is no exaggeration to say it changed my life.
I don’t remember the first time I actually met MacArthur, though I suspect it was at a Shepherd’s Conference in the early days of the New Calvinism movement. But I do remember the first (and perhaps only) time I asked him for any kind of a favor. I had just written my very first book and it was about spiritual discernment, a subject I knew to be near and dear to him. I plucked up the courage to send a note to a member of his team asking if he would be willing to consider endorsing it. Not only did he endorse it, but he wrote a foreword for it, a tremendous blessing and encouragement for a first-time author. I have heard many stories of his generosity since then, and I was blessed to experience it firsthand. (I considered it no small honor when, many years later, I was asked to write an endorsement for his massive Biblical Doctrine: A Systematic Summary of Bible Truth.)
My next memory: I was slated to speak at The Master’s University and The Master’s Seminary, and this required me to be in the area for three days. I spent most of it on the shared campus of the seminary and Grace Community Church, so I asked if there was a spare desk I could claim for a while. I was led to MacArthur’s office and told, “He is on sabbatical. He’d be glad for you to use his office.” I never did gather the courage to sit at his desk, but was thankful for a place to write, prepare, and collect my thoughts.
I was part of the group that began discussing what would eventually become the Statement on Social Justice & the Gospel (though in the end, I opted not to sign it). MacArthur was also involved in these meetings, and while I have forgotten a lot about what was said and done at that time, I do remember observing how MacArthur could so easily take over a room, not necessarily deliberately but rather just by his bearing. Being a senior statesman of sorts, not to mention having innate leadership charisma, he commanded a lot of respect. It didn’t take long before everyone deferred to him and his leadership. On that note, I was once at a social gathering to honor a mutual friend, and John arrived last (because of a late-arriving flight, as I recall). But no sooner had he walked into the room than every eye was directed toward him. He just had that kind of charisma.
The last time I saw MacArthur, and therefore my last memory of him, was in early 2024. I was in town (once again to speak at TMU and TMS) and decided to drop by Grace Community Church for the evening service. That day happened to be the fifty-fifth anniversary of his arrival at Grace Community Church, and to mark the occasion, he took part in a Q&A and discussion. Early in the service, John was called to the front to take his seat on the platform. As he began to make his way forward, he turned and saw me sitting a couple of rows back. He veered toward me and took a moment to greet me—a gesture I found both kind and encouraging. After the service, we chatted for a few minutes, and I was struck again by his kindness and gentleness.
In fact, for all the courageous words he spoke in pulpits and all the corrective words he wrote in books—often thundering forth to protect the gospel and purify the church—I think this is how I will always remember him, as a renowned leader who was kind, generous, and engaging. I’m thankful for his long legacy of faithfulness and am grateful to have known him.
