The worst times are when men of courage do their best work. This is particularly true—or should be—for the Christian church. We not only have natural resources to power courage, after all, but have divine resources at hand. We have Christ in us, Paul tells us (Philippians 1:27). We have the indwelling Spirit (Romans 8:9). We have all the love and acceptance and backing of a heavenly Father, meaning we can labor and minister in the confidence that we are secure and will never be abandoned, no matter what man may do to us (Romans 8:15, 31-39).
Yet in our day, it can feel to us like the men of courage have scattered. We sometimes wonder, like Elijah in the days of Ahab and Jezebel, if there are any sound men left (read 1 Kings 19). Despite our fear and anxiety, the truth is this: God has not left us to ourselves. We have his greatest earthly gift: we have faithful men to lead us, at least in terms of the universal church. One such man, one worker who has not failed to show up for his shift, is John MacArthur.
Several years ago, folks wondered if MacArthur was going to retire. They mused that he must be ready to opt out, and must be tired from so much toil in the fields of God. Surely no one would begrudge such a man his retirement. Many men his age are living in a retirement condo, after all, snoozing the hours peaceably away. There’s no shame in that. But instead of such a move, something seems to have sparked. In the last five years, MacArthur seemed not only to endure in the twilight years of his ministry, but to find fresh wind in his sails.
This all happened in the nick of time. I say this because after the neo-Reformed resurgence of the early aughts, a genuine and glorious move of God in many respects (which MacArthur was a key part of), it turns out that Satan had a massive counter-attack planned. Many of us marveled at what God did in uniting the church under the banner of sound doctrine from, say, 2000-2014. But the ground does not stay level in a fallen world; a sin-cursed order does not cooperate with our expectations.
Even more than this, Satan is always trying to divide and defeat the church. He never sleeps in this quest, never takes a day off, so much does he hate the bride of Christ (1 Peter 5:8). Speaking of breezes once more, the wind shifted in Reformed evangelicalism, and the greatest threat to the gospel in 100 years arose both in society and in the church: in a word, wokeness.
Confronting the Greatest Threat to the Gospel in 100 Years: Wokeness
In the simplest terms, wokeness entails being “awake” to “systemic racism” and “systemic injustice.” The word “systemic” is a tell. Derived squarely from the poisoned spring of Marxism, embracing the phrase “systemic racism” isn’t part of the shooting match, embracing the phrase “systemic racism” is the shooting match. Christians know that sin takes public form, absolutely; but our reading of sin, even public or political sin, owes nothing to Marx and Engels (and I do mean nothing), and everything to Scripture.
For this reason, with the broader woke playbook and its Orwellian terms, it’s best to leave “systemic racism” as a term to the side. If you doubt this, don’t take my word for it. Both Orwell and C. S. Lewis, among others, would remind us that if you control the vocabulary, you control the society—and the church. Nowhere do we see this more today than in the demand that we employ Marxist and neo-Marxist terminology.
Wokeness in truth is not one thing; it is many things. If you track wokeness to its actionable battle-plan—called “intersectionality,” and hidden in plain sight—you see that wokeness is not truly about “racial justice” at all. While every believer should abhor racism and partiality of any kind, wokeness—as I make clear in this book—seeks in its maximum-strength form nothing less than the devastation of creation order.
The best place to spot this scheme is in the charter statement of the organization called “Black Lives Matter” (I cite it extensively in the book just mentioned). Every life of every human person does matter, even infinitely, given that we are all made in God’s image, a seal that no one can scratch away (Genesis 1:26-28). Yet BLM is not in truth promoting such ideals of peace and light. As articulated on the BLM website (before it was scrubbed), and as codified in the literature of intersectionality, this movement seeks the demolition of that which God has called good.
This is not debatable. The BLM platform plainly opposed the principle of male headship, expressed for believers in the home, church, and society; it nuked the natural family; it advocated for the normalization of LGBTish sexuality and the marginalization of biblical sexuality; being Marxist with banners unfurled, it opposed the free market (even as numerous woke leaders make a mint off of it); it offers no real protection for religious liberty and free speech; we could go on at some length. (This is to say nothing of Antifa, one of the most evil public groups we have ever had the misfortune of encountering.)
John MacArthur came to see all this, and acted upon it where—tragically—other Reformed leaders did not. With faithful men like Josh Buice, Tom Ascol, Phil Johnson, Tom Buck, Voddie Baucham, Jr., James White, Darrell Harrison, Anthony Mathenia, Justin Peters, Michael O’Fallon, Craig Mitchell, and Jeremy Vuolo, he took a stand, and put his weight behind the historic Dallas Statement. (Today, if you are seeking a sound church as many are, I encourage you to see if the pastor of the church signed this statement, even as more info on the church will be needed.)
Further efforts have followed, as the church has woken up to its terrible threat. These efforts include, but are not limited to, the creation and explosion of the outstanding (and Apple Podcasts-topping) Just Thinking podcast that features Darrell Harrison and Virgil Walker, the publication of Baucham’s fantastically courageous book Fault Lines (a best-seller many times over, published by Salem Books via the leadership of Tim Peterson), the rise and surging popularity of G3 (both the conference and the content ministry), the line-taking Wokeness & the Gospel conference (watch all messages here), the terrific Stand series by Jon Benzinger and subsequent videos by the courageous men at Redeemer Bible Church, and a number of helpful books besides Baucham’s. (I strongly commend this short one, for example, by Jeff Johnson; it’s a joy to be working to establish Grace Bible Theological Seminary, founded by Jeff, as another declaratively unwoke seminary to serve the church.)
The point of such an abbreviated list is this: when men of courage do climb the stairway and take the wall, watching over the flock in their God-appointed role, other men join them. Men, after all, don’t follow titles; they follow courage.
The Second Epic Stand for the History Books: “Open Your Church”
MacArthur preached against wokeness, guarded the two excellent schools he leads against it, and provided continual clarity about it. But, incredibly, he did not stop there. He already kept the night-watch, the toughest shift to take, when the forces of darkness test the fence with a furious purpose unseen in daylight. He showed up for the next one as well.
By God’s grace, MacArthur took an equally momentous stand against the global big-government push to close down the church, another evil ministration of Satan that will go down in the history books, and that is part of a far bigger move of a fallen order that hates the worship of Christ (leftism, we recall, is in its modern iteration as friendly to the church as hydrogen is to oxygen). Church, MacArthur famously said, is essential. So: “open your church,” as he said in this nitrous burst of a video, speaking with a pastoral authority that cannot but send electricity up your back.
This second major battle-front has proven a tricky one. This is because the push to close the church and scatter the sheep has advanced under the banner of “public health.” What a breathtaking piece of strategy this was by the forces of evil. What sane person opposes “public health”? We disagree about much as citizens, but we all want people to be healthy, and we should all trust medical professionals. After all, do not most citizens of polar-opposite political views take aspirin for headaches, and get surgery when it will preserve our life, and do what they can to improve the lives of loved ones?
What the traditional battles over ideas in the academy and culture could not do, the push to preserve global “public health” did. In a master-stroke, and seemingly overnight and without any real debate or exchange of ideas as is customary (in God’s common grace) in Western civilizations (which are themselves signs of common grace), the cause of “public health” was used to shut down the world. This included the church. You could say it this way: what Marxism tried to do for decades, with not great success in America at least, “public health” did in a few weeks.
We should not misunderstand: a real virus has plagued our world the last couple years. It has caused numerous deaths, particularly for the sectors of the population that are most endangered by sicknesses, the elderly, overweight, and immuno-compromised. It has necessitated real wisdom and care (and in different seasons has laid many of us low, me included). Nonetheless, while pastors have faced understandably complex challenges in navigating this season, it is flatly true that this virus is not equivalent to the Black Plague—or even close. On this count, our media and our political leaders—in general terms—failed us.
As noted, the virus and its mutations are real. In light of this, as in Scripture, the sick should be quarantined (see Leviticus 13-14, for starters). At-risk individuals should be cared for with love and prudence, and we should all act sensibly. But in the simplest terms, the virus before us is not one that demanded the liberty-destroying, business-ruining, spiritual-health-crashing response it got, with the foul gamut here including “lockdowns,” masks, forced vaccines, and other such measures.
The virus should be treated as a real health matter, but in no sense should it (or any other disease) shut down worship, pause discipleship, cease the celebration of Christ’s ordinances, halt the gathered proclamation of the truth of God, and “close” the church Jesus purchased with his own blood. As a corporate body, we have no asterisks upon the New Testament command to not forsake the assembling of ourselves together, and we never shall (Hebrews 10:25).
Back to the narrative. As events transpired, and Satan’s forces moved swiftly to rout the church and drive it from the field, MacArthur (and Grace Community Church elders) saw what was happening. Starting in the summer of 2020, he called for the gathering of the body where many stayed quiet. These were not easy hours. The pushback from the professing church was as strong as the opposition from the government of California, a reality that is still bitter for many of us to swallow. (Let us all grapple afresh with the imperative to forgive seven times seventy.)
I write it without anger or hatred for anyone, but also without hesitation: though controversial, history will vindicate the move to gather the flock, preach the Word, disciple the saints, and reach out in love to the lost. In fact, through the heroic efforts of the legal team that partnered with the congregation (with Jenna Ellis leading the way), American jurisprudence did vindicate Grace Community Church, giving us a landmark decision supporting religious liberty. (On this subject, MacArthur took heat this week for some of his past remarks—but as Megan Basham of The Daily Wire just showed, there is more to the story than many first thought, a trend that recurs unendingly in our “speak quickly without knowing the facts” culture.)
This decision could not help but lend strength to countless other congregations, setting a precedent for the worshipping—that is, gathering—church as it did. Because MacArthur and his fellow elders (and the broader body of Grace) were willing to pay the heavy cost, millions of Christians—and many others besides—benefited greatly.
Shoulder to Shoulder with the (Suffering) Puritans
As I have said on this count, MacArthur’s stance—one shared by an army of pastors across denominational and global lines—is biblical (Hebrews 10:25). It is also right in line with the thinking and action of sound men of the past. We think here of the last similarly convulsive epoch in Western history, seventeenth-century England, when the Puritans—and free-church Christians of every kind—confronted, as we surely are today, both widespread illness and a brutally-punitive government.
Shockingly few pixels have been expended in recent days upon the needful lessons of the Puritan response to this twin set of challenges that shook the church in the seventeenth-century. But for those who do consult the wisdom of the past, learning from men who are never perfect but nonetheless honorable, it is evident that Puritan preachers like John Owen and John Bunyan knew that they had to shepherd the flock even in terrible times.
There were some starts and some stops here, to be sure. But Owen labored under threat of punishment to gather the church, and Bunyan—imprisoned for year upon year—left us to measure the depth of his commitment to preaching and corporate worship with quotes like this: “If I was out of prison today, I would preach the gospel again tomorrow by the help of God.” Aside from Bunyan, around 200 Puritan pastors went to jail because they continued proclaiming Christ; over 2,000 lost their churches. This is staggering to consider, even now, and reminds us once more that Satan truly hates the church, and has worked for centuries to shut it down.
As I have written elsewhere, many godly laypeople joined them in their confinement. These men and many other Puritans of varying ecclesial views knew, with one mind, that they could not stop preaching Christ to needy sinners. They had to open the church, even if death was at hand in the form of illness; they had to proclaim God’s truth, even if the Clarendon Code offered them a one-way ticket to jail. And so they did: so they passed their test.
MacArthur—possessing not an English last name, noble as those are, but an iron-dipped Scottish one—has passed his test. Many other shepherds, after an initial period of uncertainty in 2020, have passed theirs as well. Still others are waking up, and will by God’s grace pass the tests that will likely come in days ahead. Worship is not optional. The assembling of the saints must take place; it must not be forsaken.
This is because people need God. People need the Word of God. People need salvation. People need discipleship. This is true in every season; it is especially true in terrible, twisted times like ours. This is not the time for pulling back and easing up; this is the time for doubling down and investing deeper. Sound churches led by sound men will do just this, and will experience God’s blessing, just as unsound churches led by unsound or drifting men will wither, God having lifted his gracious hand from them.
Nor are we treating here optional services that churches may provide as they see fit. We are soldiers marching under orders, not consumers chasing our preferences. Christian ministry operates under divine mandate, divine summons, and a divine call. God has commanded it; we obey his command. This last clause matters. We do not break the first commandment, to love the one true God, in order to keep the second commandment, to love our neighbor as ourself. We keep them both.
In other words, we worship God per the truth of God, and from that solid foundation, we reach out in love to fellow sinners, never believing or living by lies. Neighbor-love must never, ever mean action depending upon falsehood, or even close. If it does, it is not neighbor-love. It is a counterfeit.
As we obey our King, we live in confidence and hope, not in fear as the unregenerate man does. Paul said as much to Timothy: “God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control,” per 2 Timothy 1:7. Applying this to the mission of the church, we remember also the gloriously defiant words of Jesus to Peter: “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matthew 16:18).
In Persecution, the Gospel Is Advancing and Sinners Are Getting Saved
I was reminded of this biblical truth when watching a testimonial video from a Canadian woman named Jennifer (do not fail to watch it—it is the most encouraging video you will see this week). Locked down up north, she despaired of her life. Promiscuous, drug-addicted, and utterly lost by her own account, she ended up going to Trinity Bible Chapel in Waterloo, Ontario. Even as she shot multiple grams of cocaine a day, she heard the Word, went to prayer gatherings, and attended services.
Under the leadership of Pastor Jacob Reaume and a body of faithful elders, Trinity saw gathering the flock for corporate worship as essential. Not optional. Because Trinity lived by such convictions, Jennifer was born again, and recently baptized. (You can watch the stalwart biblical sermons of Reaume and TBC here—I strongly commend this preaching ministry.)
Trinity was right. Worship, discipleship, and gospel-proclamation are not optional, you see. Each of these callings (these divine blessings!) is essential. This is the stand taken in Canada by Reaume and James Coates and Tim Stephens and other faithful men. This is the stand taken in America by MacArthur and many other faithful pastors. This is the stand we must take in the season that awaits us, much as we may be labeled as “not nice” and “not nuanced enough,” twin virtues of our feminized age.
There is much more we could say about all this, and about MacArthur in particular. But this is enough. We are all imperfect at best, and the graveyards are filled with indispensable men. The Reformed movement is not monolithic, nor is the Christian church more broadly; we all have our own stances and positions, and that is true of MacArthur as it is true of anyone else. We do not ask of our leaders that they be perfect, for they—like us—are no such thing. We do ask that they stay faithful to Christ, always trusting God for the power to do so.
On Adding a Chapter to a Legacy in Your Eighties
It is somewhat humorous to write all the foregoing, because the book on MacArthur was already written. No less an elite historian than Iain Murray, in fact, wrote it, and a few years ago at that. I commend this book along with all of Murray’s writings. But the humorous element is this: the biography of MacArthur that we have doesn’t include the epochal season of his ministry. This is not the fault of the author, or the publisher. No, it owes to the mysterious and perfectly-wise providence of God, which appointed both the Downgrade of our day—the greatest challenge to the ministry of truth since the days when Harry Emerson Fosdick malignantly and effeminately reframed preaching as group therapy—and the Spurgeonic stand of our time.
The dual threats of wokeness and prohibition of worship under the banner of “public health” have come, and though unanswered by many, MacArthur did not stay silent. Like Spurgeon before him, he spoke, he suffered for his speaking, and he strengthened many to do the same. He has also challenged the American church to preach on biblical sexuality on this coming Sunday, January 16, in solidarity with our Canadian brothers, who by Canadian Bill C-4 are under duress for doing so, in flagrant violation of their constitutionally-recognized religious liberty. (Whether you preach or not, I encourage you to sign this statement in unity with Grace Church.)
When church historians write about this age, it is MacArthur who will loom largest, because it is MacArthur who--in God's appointment--has taken the most costly stand for truth. That is always the key benchmark for ministries that stand out: it is not size, it is not talent, it is not worldly approval. It is faithfulness, but costly faithfulness at that. MacArthur, by the sheer grace of God and no strength of his own, has passed the test, and has showed the rest of us how to pass our own.
Conclusion: Take Heart and Trust in Our Great God
Take heart, church. Much wickedness is afoot, and many are asleep. But God is sifting his church, and it is good that he does so. He is good in all his ways, and right in all his judgments. Even as he takes down faithless works, he is giving divine strength to faithful congregations, and persevering saints. He loves his covenant people, we remember, but he will surely judge the wicked, as Psalm 145:17-20 (LSB) tells us:
Yahweh is righteous in all His ways
And holy in all His works.
Yahweh is near to all who call upon Him,
To all who call upon Him in truth.
He will work out the desire of those who fear Him;
He will hear their cry for help and He will save them.
Yahweh keeps all who love Him,
But all the wicked He will destroy.
Yahweh, the true God, is the real hero of our story and our age. Indeed, we should not gaze in awe at any pastor, no matter how thankful we are for them, in the final analysis. We should see MacArthur as our brother in Christ, albeit one who has put steel in our spine by his costly fidelity to our Lord and Savior, the true King, whom one day all will hail. MacArthur, I sense, doesn’t care what men think about him, about his “standing” among evangelicals, about his “brand,” about never hurting anyone’s feelings (the patron cause of our man-centered age). In the absence of such fretting, he is free, truly free, to speak God’s truth without fear.
What a ministry. What a life. What an example. In these evil days, buoyed as Paul told us to be by strong men (1 Corinthians 11:1), let us remember this: God is good, we his people are always in his hands, and by his grace, the worst times are when men of courage do their best work.