As a young pastor in my first church, a theological crisis erupted. Someone began distributing copies of Benny Hinn’s Good Morning, Holy Spirit. Charismatic phenomena, like speaking in tongues and being “slain in the Spirit,” broke out in this traditional Baptist church. These events divided the congregation and left members looking to their young pastor for answers – answers that I did not have. 

Thumbing through a magazine, I saw an ad for a new book, Charismatic Chaos. This was my introduction to the John F. MacArthur Jr. I drove to Logos Bookstore in Westwood (CA) to get a copy, and quickly devoured it. It helped me to understand the biblical issues at stake. More than that, it deepened and reinforced my confidence in the sufficiency of Scripture. 

After reading Charismatic Chaos, I tried to read everything I could get my hands on by John MacArthur. I also started regularly listening to Grace To You radio broadcast on KKLA. 

Each week, I would visit my niece and nephew on the other side of the 405 freeway. During one visit, I was talking to my sister about MacArthur. She asked me where his church was. I told her that it was on Roscoe Blvd. She replied, “H.B., you know that’s the next major street over from here.” No, I didn’t know that. With that discovery, I started visiting the evening services at Grace Community Church whenever possible. When I got some money, I would raid the “book shack” for MacArthur sermon tapes and books. 

When I knew I was serious about Crystal, I took her to a Sunday service at Grace Church. It was one of our first real dates. I had never really told anyone I was attending evening services at Grace, much less invited anyone to join me. I had talked to Crystal a lot about expository preaching. She heard what I was aiming at that night. And browsing the many series in the bookstore showed her what I wanted my ministry to be, far better than any explanation I could give. 

At some point, I started attending The Master’s Seminary. To my knowledge, I was the only full-time student who was also a full-time pastor. Unfortunately, I was also on the road preaching most weeks. Everyone who mattered to me urged me to prioritize my training. “The road will be there,” they said. I didn’t believe them, and didn’t finish my studies at TMS (For the record, they were all right!). However, my short time at the seminary deepened my convictions and strengthened my resolve to preach the word and practice a biblical philosophy of ministry. 

During those years hanging out around Grace Church and The Master’s Seminary, I never met John MacArthur. I did not expect that I would ever meet him. But the mark he had made on my life was indelible. Friends called me “Black-Arthur,” and said my radio broadcast would be called “Grace to Y’all.” 

Then I finally met the man, as we preached at an event together at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. It is said that you should never meet your heroes. Sadly, I have seen this warning come to pass on several occasions. But that was not the case when I met John MacArthur. From all I can tell, the man was far greater than the preacher. In too many instances, it’s the other way around. 

I think Dr. MacArthur was just as surprised to meet me as I was to meet him. He was no doubt aware of his impact and influence on ministers around the world. I do not think he imagined that the life and ministry of a young black Baptist preacher from the inner city of Los Angeles was being shaped in the shadow of his pulpit. With his trademark humility, kindness, and generosity, he treated me as his friend. (If those characteristics surprise you, you have only heard his sermons or read his books. You haven’t met the man.) He even pressed me to call him “John,” which I did. 

Over the years, we preached several events together. He then began to invite me to speak at the Shepherd’s Conference at Grace Community Church. Before being a guest speaker, I had attended the Shepherds Conference many times but had never been inside the worship center for an auditorium. (One year, when Crystal and I went to hear R.C. Sproul, we had to sit in the back of the seminary classroom on the third floor and watch from a screen.) 

One year, I dragged myself to the Shepherds Conference, right after another event. I had just been told that my ministry would not be taken seriously until I finished my formal training. I took those words seriously and was confused and troubled.

Mark Dever told me I should talk to Pastor MacArthur about it. But I didn’t want to bug him during the conference. I asked one of the Grace Church pastors to let me know if they could find me five minutes with Dr. MacArthur before the week was over. A few minutes later, I was being ushered into his office. I told MacArthur what had transpired and how I felt about it. When I asked for his advice, he told me only if he could only be brutally honest. “H.B., you need to go back to school now, like you need a hole in your head, he told me. “You need to be in the pulpit.” 

He told me that he never wanted to have that conversation with me again. To ensure that it did not come up again, he told me he was going to give me an honorary degree from TMS. When he asked what I thought, I told him that was not why I asked for his advice, but I didn’t know how to tell him no. “Fine, he replied, “Then it’s settled.” I know that in the real world, an honorary degree doesn’t mean anything. But to have Dr. MacArthur put his stamp of approval on my ministry in that way meant more than tongue can tell. 

It was a thrill to have Dr. MacArthur accept my invitation to speak at our Cutting It Straight Conference at the Shiloh Church in Jacksonville. He was scheduled to get there on the last day to preach the closing session. He showed up for my message to start the conference. After each session, he hung around meeting people, taking pictures, and signing books. I had to drag him away each time. During one of my breakout sessions, he let me interview him. It was a special moment for the men to get a glimpse of the heart of the man behind the sermons and books. 

Flying to Los Angeles to preach at Grace Church and teach in the seminary, I received a text about Dr. MacArthur’s dire condition. I expected to land and discover that the elders still wanted me to preach. As my daughter Hailey and I sat on the front row, we heard the announcement that Pastor MacArthur would soon be with the Lord. I went to the pulpit with two prayer requests – that the Lord would keep me from crying in the pulpit and use me to comfort and encourage the shocked and grieving congregation. The Lord answered the first request; I hope he will answer the latter request, as he waters the good seed of his word. 

Members of the Shiloh Church have offered me their condolences on the passing of my friend, John MacArthur. Each expression of sympathy has caught me off guard, particularly when they call him my “friend.” As a young guy sitting in the back of Grace Church on Sunday nights, his pulpit seemed as far away as Los Angeles is from Jacksonville. Yet, in God’s kind providence, our paths crossed, and he was an unspeakable blessing to me along the way. 

My daughter Hailey often reminds me that I am a nobody. She’s right. Whatever I am, the life and ministry of John MacArthur has played a critical role in shaping my faith walk with Christ, biblical convictions, and philosophy of ministry. There would be no H.B. Charles Jr. without John F. MacArthur Jr. 

Thank God for John MacArthur!