How I'm Processing John MacArthur's Death

TL:DR 

• Tell the truth about our influences. Don’t demonize or mythologize. 
• John MacArthur taught me preaching is magic. 
• I’m grieved by his leadership posture. 

I didn’t know John MacArthur. I spent one academic year at his college. We had about a dozen conversations. We weren’t friends. 

When I met J-Mac, I was a lost young man. I moved to California with the hopes that my band would take off. I needed to get out of New England. I had an engagement end and was ready for the next chapter. Now I’m meeting the preacher who lifted me from a dark place. 

I fanboyed. I told him his sermon “The Maniac Who Became a Missionary” saved my life. The truth of that message was God wasn’t mad at me. He wanted to give me grace. I was in a dark place and the truth set me free. 

When he couldn’t remember that sermon I felt embarrassed. He was warm toward me. 

Each time we talked John was present and personal. It felt like he was for me. 

We once were talking before an evening service. The music stopped, signaling the start of his preaching. 

He kept talking to me, for about a minute. With 3,000 death stares heading my way, it felt like an hour. 

Karl Barth once said he was the spirit of John Calvin for a new generation. I’ve felt that was me and J-Mac. Calvin and Barth couldn’t be more different. The same was true with me, the failed rock star who became a pastor and the jock who became a pastor. 

I admired him.

And…

There were times when Grace Church did too little to protect the abused and seemed to side with abusers. 

There were times when John MacArthur picked fights and slandered others. 

There were times when John MacArthur seemed to not tell the truth. 

AND 

There was a time when my friend, who was studying to be a pastor, went to a strip club. He feared this disqualified him from future ministry. He sat with John. My friend experienced grace and healing. 

There was a time when another friend couldn’t afford to come back to the next semester. John found out. My friend was taken care of. 

What brings you to the party isn’t always what keeps you at the party. John MacArthur invited me to a party where preaching was pure magic. Even if John MacArthur and I differ, I still believe in the magic. 

I’m taking the good and leaving what doesn’t serve me. I am no fundamentalist. There is too much beauty and goodness in the world to play theological king of the hill. 

I recoil at memorials that paint someone’s decisions as all bad or all good. Neither tell the truth. 

All we can do is tell the truth. We should not blindly look up to our spiritual influences. Neither should we despairingly look down on them. 

We look them in the eye. 

And with that I say, "Thanks, John, for the good. I grieve the harm and Good-bye."