WHY

I FIGHT
John MacArthur
WHY I FIGHT
John MacArthur
I was once introduced at a convention as the man who is much
nicer in person than in his books. I couldn’t help but laugh, as
this introduction was certainly meant as friendly banter. But
there was truth in these words, and I knew it.

I understand that many—both within the church and outside

of it—consider me to be cantankerous, hyper-doctrinal, hard-
nosed, unbending, and uncompromising. I’ve even been called
mean-spirited. And in some ways, I understand why people
see me in this way—after all, it seems that I’m almost always
near the center of some evangelical debate. Some of those
closest to me have told me that it’s time to explain why. This little
book is my attempt to do just that.

When I was a young man preparing for ministry, I never thought

I would spend my life fighting. I didn’t know this was the ministry
God had for me. But here I am.
And the more I reflect on ministry, the more I realize that there
is a certain schizophrenia to it—a dual world of sorts in which I
live. My job is to treat those God has placed under my care—
the people of Grace Community Church—with love, tenderness,
kindness, mercy, and compassion. There has to be trust between
a pastor and his people—the softness of shepherding care. And
yet, at the same time, I have to fight battles to protect the sheep
of Grace Church. God has given me the responsibility to fight
for my flock, and I am called to go to great lengths in doing so.

Charles Spurgeon used the image of the sword and the trowel
to describe this dual, pastoral reality—with the trowel, the pastor
is carefully building his church. And with the sword in the other
hand, he is fighting to protect that which he has built. The picture
of a pastor as one who is, on the one hand, a tender shepherd,
and on the other, a warrior fighting off the enemy, is central to
the biblical notion of a pastor.

Paul warns the Ephesian elders of this reality in Acts 20—that

wolves from among them would come in, not sparing the flock
(Acts 20:29). Evil men would rise up and lead many astray, and
today we are witnessing exactly that. This is the current state of
our church.

But among many evangelical leaders these days, there seems

to be a reluctance to fight. The church now believes the role of
the pastor is to please and pamper the unconverted; leaders
today scramble to avoid the slightest offense, when, in reality,
their whole ministry was intended to be an offense. As a result,
there is much less conviction in the church than there used to be.
Many pastors are no longer standing for the issues our fathers
in the faith once lost their lives for.
My prayer and longing, not just for pastors but for all believers,
is that they would come to the end of their lives and be able to
exhale with the apostle Paul, I have fought the good fight. And
as long as we are alive, this fight will never end. The characters
change, the scenes shift, but the battle remains the same—the
fight is always and ever over the Word of God.

And sadly, I have lost many friends in this fight. I have watched—
slowly and steadily—the ministerial ranks thin. Why have we
lost so many? Because they were no longer willing to do battle
when and where it raged the fiercest.

There is an old saying that says if you fight the battle everywhere
but where it rages the hottest, you are an unfaithful soldier. I’ve
seen the sad reality of that saying play out before my eyes.
Leaders of the church must go to the point of the fiercest conflict,
and then they must stand there. It is not enough to take a stand
where there is no fight. The ground where the battle rages is
where faithfulness is demonstrated.

But I understand the toll that the fight can have. I remember
reading the sad biography of A.W. Pink—such a formidable
mind and faithful scholar. He spent the majority of his life
studying, preaching, and pastoring, and yet in his last days,
he found himself a recluse in a little apartment on Scotland’s
northern coast. All he had left was hostility for the world. How
did he end up like that?

A.W. Pink grew weary of rejection, of the battle. Leaving the

pastorate was potentially the defining moment in A.W. Pink’s
downfall. He walked away from a loving congregation of
people who balanced the challenges and disappointments of
ministry with love and encouragement. To abandon pastoral
ministry and become a wandering pastor with nowhere to
turn to be embraced and loved is a dangerous thing. It leaves
a pastor vulnerable to the weariness of the fight. Ministry is
all about fighting the enemy for the sake of the truth and the
protection of your people, and then pouring out your heart to
a congregation of people who will love and hold you in their
hearts. This is what brings endless joy to my heart as a pastor.

I am a defender of the truth, and the church is the pillar and

support of the truth. In the end, the truth is what I live for. I never
want to misrepresent the truth. But once I understand the Word
of God, the thought of what others may think doesn’t enter my
mind. My assumption is that the saints will embrace the truth,
and the lost will reject it. Our Lord taught pure truth and was
crucified at the hand of the crowds. The world is hostile to the
truth, which is the reason there is a battle. My job is to faithfully
stand for truth, not to please men.
In the earlier years of my life and pastoral ministry, the enemy
used to be outside the church—in cults and false religions and
blatant godlessness. But the enemy is now—it seems daily—
finding new crevices to sneak into the church. In my ministry
today, I hardly receive any hostility from those outside the
church, but I receive plenty from those inside of it. And this is
exactly what Jude said would happen. Jude writes:

“Beloved, while I was making every effort to write you

about our common salvation, I felt the necessity to write
to you appealing that you contend earnestly for the faith
which was once for all handed down to the saints. For
certain persons have crept in unnoticed, those who were
long beforehand marked out for this condemnation,
ungodly persons who turn the grace of our God into
licentiousness and deny our only Master and Lord, Jesus
Christ” (Jude 3–4, italics mine).

Why do I fight? Most simply—because I’m commanded to.

I am commanded in this passage to earnestly contend for the

faith as revealed in Holy Scripture that has been “once for
all handed down to the saints.” This is the very essence of the
Christian life. The Christian life is not about personalities or
opinions; it’s about the truth.
 Jude is the only book in the Scriptures entirely devoted to fighting
for the truth. In the New Testament, Jude sits in the shadow of the
book of Revelation, and it immediately follows 1–3 John, books
entirely devoted to the concept of truth. For example, the first
verses of 2 John read:

“The elder to the chosen lady and her children, whom I

love in truth; and not only I, but also all who know the truth,
for the sake of the truth which abides in us and will be
with us forever: Grace, mercy and peace will be with us,
from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Son of the
Father, in truth and love. I was very glad to find some of
your children walking in truth” (2 John 1–4a, italics mine).

Truth is repeated five times in the opening address of this letter.

The same emphasis can be found in the initial words of 3 John:

“The elder to the beloved Gaius, whom I love in truth.

Beloved, I pray that in all respects you may prosper and
be in good health, just as your soul prospers. For I was
very glad when brethren came and testified to your truth,
that is, how you are walking in truth. I have no greater joy
than this, to hear of my children walking in the truth” (3
John 1–4, italics mine).

The final letters of the last living apostle were devoted to the
preeminence of truth. And then immediately after John’s final
letters is the book of Jude. Jude’s message is that believers
are going to need to fight to the very end for truth. As the end
nears, false teachers will multiply, propagating lies that many
will believe. As a result, this church age is essentially a nonstop
fight for the truth until the Lord returns.

That’s why these books are stacked in the shadows of the book
of Revelation. This final book tells of the end, when the one who
is the living truth will return and reign over the world, and then
He will recreate the eternal state in which only truth exists. But
until He comes, the church is in a war for the truth.

It was the Lord who asked, “When He comes, will He find

faith in the earth?” (Luke 18:8). What a startling question,
particularly in light of how vibrantly the church started. On the
day of Pentecost, three thousand souls were converted into
the church. Then in the days and weeks to follow, thousands
upon thousands repented and believed. This was just in the first
months of the church.

But the question of Jesus still remains: “When He comes, will

He find faith in the earth?” The implication is clear: we can’t
just assume that faith is going to spread like wildfire across the
globe. The lies of the enemy are going to attempt—by every
method imaginable—to choke the expansion of the church.
Battles involve opposition. And if you think it is any less than
battle, ministry will be an utter shock.
Paul writes of these last days:

“But the Spirit explicitly says that in later times some will
fall away from the faith, paying attention to deceitful spirits
and doctrines of demons, by means of the hypocrisy of
liars seared in their own conscience as with a branding
iron” (1 Timothy 4:1).

This verse warns of false teachers who have lost all fear of God,
who have so seared their consciences that their consciences
are branded into silence.

Paul warns the Thessalonians believers, “Let no one in any way

deceive you, for it will not come unless the apostasy comes first,
and the man of lawlessness is revealed” (2 Thess. 2:3). There
is coming a falling away—an apostasy, an enormous defection
from the church.

The book of 2 Peter warns that false teachers are coming. Peter
writes:

“But false prophets also arose among the people, just

as there will also be false teachers among you, who will
secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying
the Master who bought them, bringing swift destruction
upon themselves. Many will follow their sensuality, and
because of them the way of the truth will be maligned; and
 in their greed they will exploit you with false words; their
judgment from long ago is not idle, and their destruction
is not asleep” (2 Peter 2:1–3).

The battle rages between the truth and those who propagate
error. Peter writes they’re coming; and then Jude says they’re
here. The false teachers arrived. And now it is an essential part
of every believer’s Christian life to exercise discernment and to
engage in battle against these imminent threats on and within
the church.

Church history is one long war. It is relentless, and it demands

courage. Discernment is necessary at every turn. It requires
boldness and sacrifice—a sacrifice of popularity, relationships,
and dear friendships. But the truth is worth it.

The book of Jude opens with the words: “To those who are the
called, beloved in God the Father, and kept for Jesus Christ.”
Jude opens his letter by assuring believers that they are not only
kept by Jesus but for Him. The letter ends in a similar manner:

“Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and

to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless
with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through
Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and
authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen”
(Jude 24, italics mine).
 Between these assuring bookends is a frightening letter. Jude
warns of the presence and power of false teachers. It is almost
as if he knew he needed to give believers assurance at the
beginning and end of the letter lest the believers lose both heart
and faith. The epistle, with all it has to say about false teachers,
is bracketed with these firm statements about the security of the
believer as one who is called, beloved, and kept.

Verse 3 is a very interesting passage: “Beloved, while I was

making every effort to write you about our common salvation
…”

Jude begins by telling the believers that he had something else

in mind when he began writing this letter. He longed to write
an encouraging letter about salvation. He wanted to celebrate
what Christ had done. But he couldn’t. Something restrained
him.

He continues, “I felt the necessity to write to you appealing

that you contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all
handed down to the saints” (Jude 3b, italics mine). Even though
Jude desired to write of the glories of salvation, he knew he was
obliged to another task. He felt the necessity to do otherwise.

There seem to have been times when the biblical writers had
something they desired to say, but the Holy Spirit restrained
them. Similarly, in 1 Corinthians 9, Paul wrote, “Necessity is laid
upon me” (1 Corinthians 9:16). This was the tangible weight of
inspiration. The Holy Spirit was guiding the biblical writers to
write exactly as He intended.
The word used for necessity is a verb that bears the notion
of compression—of being pressured, closed in, even locked
down. Jude had no option other than to write what the Spirit
was pressing upon him. The message the Spirit wanted him to
write was clear: to urge believers to contend earnestly for the
faith which was once for all handed down to the saints. The
word Jude used for contend is the Greek word agon; it was
used commonly to refer to a bowl or stadium. The English term
agony is derived from agon, because it was in these bowl-
type stadiums that gladiators sparred, games were held, and
wrestling matches took place.

When Jude tells the believers that they need to contend for
the faith, he wants believers to envision the dust of the arena.
He wants the believers to see themselves as being in a sort of
spiritual gladiator match. And the tense of the verb Jude uses
indicates that this would be a life-long fight. This is similar to
Paul’s words in 1 Timothy 6 when he urges Timothy to fight the
good fight of faith (6:12). Believers are not intended to glide
easily through life. Their life is to be something of an endless
struggle—a lifelong spiritual gladiator match.

Paul wrote to the Galatians that he agonized (agon) in his

ministry both for the perfection of the saints and for the sake
of the truth (Galatians 1:28–29). A pastor is to fight for the
edification of believers on one side and for the truth on the
other. I am not sure how to obey these commands other than to
fight when the truth, at any point, is under attack.

The first public battle that I was engaged in resulted in my book

The Charismatics. There was a partner institution in those days
who came alongside me to help contend for the truth. This
institution took every chapter from the book and reprinted each
chapter individually in their monthly magazine. Some years
ago, we broadcasted that same teaching series through our
radio program, Grace to You. That same institution now refused
even to play the content over their radio stations. They would
no longer stand with me. The battle had become too hot, the
cost too high.

That was my first public fight.

The next formidable battle was over The Gospel According to

Jesus. In that book, I attempted to defend the lordship of Christ.
I made the case that Jesus is Lord and should be acknowledged
as such. And yet I recently read a tweet from one of the
graduates of my own seminary. The graduate tweeted, “I seek
to free as many as possible from the soul-enslaving, freedom-
killing, conscience-afflicting, assurance-destroying, law-
gospel confusing errors of lordship salvation.” This graduate
has apparently wearied in the battle.
 Jude writes that “Certain persons have crept in unnoticed”
(Jude 4). These “certain persons” could be anyone—professors
in seminaries, Sunday school teachers, writers, theologians,
even pastors. But Jude makes it clear that they will creep in and
sit in pews and preach in pulpits, acting as representatives of
God. But we’ll recognize them when they fall away from us.

The goal of this heresy was to turn grace into licentiousness.

The Greek word for “licentiousness” means unrestrained vice.
This word is in Paul’s list of vices in Galatians 5—it is immorality
of the rankest nature. Antinomianism is another name for
licentiousness. When someone is eager to deny the Lordship
of Christ, it is likely because he is creating a theology to
accommodate for his sin. The sad truth is that there will always
be those who want to use grace as a blanket for sin.

Titus addresses this issue. He writes, “For the grace of God has
appeared bringing salvation to all men instructing us to deny
ungodliness” (Titus 2:11). True grace does not teach us to sin
that grace may abound, but instead to deny ungodliness.
True grace teaches us to flee from sin. But immorality, on the
other hand, demands an accommodating theology; twisted
grace is its demand. Those who would advocate this perverted
grace are those who were long beforehand marked out for
condemnation.
 It’s not popular to talk of perversions of grace in today’s
evangelical climate. The culture today wants to accept and
embrace everyone in the name of “abundant love” and “free
grace,” but that’s not what the Word of God commands of us.
False Christians believe “grace” enables unrestrained liberty.
Standing against that will make you unpopular, but that is how
believers are called to contend for the faith.

I find myself fighting the same battles over and over again—
for the purity of the Word of God, for its authenticity, integrity,
sufficiency, and perspicuity. I find myself contending for the
gospel, for repentance, and for faith in Christ.

The hardest part of the fight is to not become so jaded by the

battle that you lose your love, compassion, and joy with the
people you shepherd week in and week out. The wonderful
thing about a long-term ministry is that you are surrounded and
supported by so many loving and faithful people who are living
evidence of genuine, flourishing Christianity. Pastors would do
well to stay at a church long enough to see that.

Grace Church is where I’ve lived my life, and it is a joyous life.

I am so grateful to be loved by the people of this church; it is
truly a grace to my soul. If I am resented, it is by those who have
not stood with me in the trenches. But I am so grateful to have
had a dear wife and many friends who have stood alongside
me in this battle.
If you are considering the call to pastoral ministry, visit
tms.edu/call-to-ministry for more information.