From the Radio to the Pulpit

John MacArthur has been one of the most significant influences in my life—not only as a preacher, but as a follower of Christ who found his calling through media ministry.

 I came to faith in Christ as a first-semester college student—through the power of the radio. After my conversion, I did what any logical new believer would do: I went through drop-add and dropped every class before noon. Then I spent every morning devouring the Word of God, guided by the voices of faithful men like Adrian Rogers, Chuck Swindoll, Charles Stanley, and J. Vernon McGee.

But each evening, as the sun went down over North Alabama, one voice came through the speakers with unmatched clarity and conviction—John MacArthur and Grace to You. His teaching was expositional, unwavering, and thoroughly biblical. And it lit a fire in me.

As a young man longing to know God’s best for my life, MacArthur’s teaching on discerning God’s will was invaluable. I clung to it like a lifeline. And when the internet became more accessible, I began tuning in to the Grace to You Q&A sessions each week. Those question-and-answer moments were like theological gold—practical, wise, and saturated in Scripture.

I attended a public university and, with naïve optimism, signed up for a few theology electives. I didn’t know at the time that most public university theology departments lean heavily liberal. I quickly found myself in a battlefield—professors relentlessly attacking the inspiration and authority of Scripture.

But I wasn’t unarmed. I had my MacArthur Study Bible.

Time after time, it was as if that Bible anticipated every argument they threw at me. My professors may have thought I was the most well-prepared conservative student they had ever encountered. The truth? I had JMac in my corner.

While John impacted me most directly through media, some of my favorite stories came from those who knew him personally.

Stuart Scott—my counseling professor in seminary—served on staff with MacArthur. He often told how John, though bold and direct in the pulpit, was gentle and gracious off stage. He was the last to push for church discipline and the first to show grace to someone who didn’t deserve it—or wasn’t yet ready to receive it.

Dan Dumas, a friend and mentor of mine, also served as Executive Pastor at Grace Community Church. Dan once shared how a young man gave John a hard-luck story. John, with characteristic compassion, invited the young man to come on staff. Dan later had to gently clarify: “What Pastor John meant was… we’d love for you to start as a volunteer.” That’s just who MacArthur was—deep conviction, coupled with a heart full of mercy.

I finally met Pastor John in 2007 at a Bible conference. I was a nobody—just another pastor among many—but he was kind and gracious to my wife and me. I took the opportunity to buy a MacArthur Study Bible for each of my kids and had him sign them. At the time, they were too young to fully understand the value of that gift. But today, as young adults, each one of them treasures that Bible.

John MacArthur’s impact on me wasn’t just in preaching—it was also in how to extend the reach of biblical truth. He taught me that all the labor poured into a sermon shouldn’t end when the pulpit goes quiet. It should echo—through media, radio, podcast, print, and more.

That’s one of the reasons we launched Maximum Life, our own media ministry. And later, Code Red Talk, a podcast where we address difficult and controversial issues with boldness and biblical clarity. If you ever listened to the first 15 minutes of a MacArthur sermon, you know—it was often cultural commentary, saturated in Scripture and unmoved by fear. When government overreach became reality during COVID, Grace Community Church stood among the first to say, “Enough is enough.”

That courage inspired me. Still does.

We’ve all lost much in John MacArthur’s passing. But as Vance Havner once said, “You haven’t lost something if you know where it is.” We know exactly where Pastor John is—and we will see him again.

I can only imagine the sermons he can preach now.