In two and a half months, three of the best of us went on to their eternal reward. All three were firebrands, faithfully taking on the lies of our age in the arena to which the Lord had called them.

First, we lost John MacArthur. MacArthur was the epitome of “faithful servant,” serving in the same pulpit for decades, and showing the world what happens when a man allows the Word of God to do the work of God in the church of God.

Then, we lost Charlie Kirk. Kirk showed us what a young man with a microphone and a card table can do in the harshest of environments. The Lord used him to swing the young men of a nation to win an election. Even more so, the Lord used him to point millions of angry, hurting, and disaffected young men wading through the wasteland of wokeness to find the truth of the Gospel.

Then, just yesterday, we lost Voddie Baucham. At only 56 years old.

Baucham served faithfully over the years as a pastor, itinerant preacher, and seminary president. Christians of all stripes loved him for his unwavering commitment to preaching the truth of God. He was a lion for the truth, both in the pulpit and out of it.

When most of evangelicalism lost its way and capitulated to wokeness, Voddie rebuked it. He stood on Scripture alone. He wrote Fault Lines: The Social Justice Movement and Evangelicalism’s Looming Catastrophe, courageously calling out the compromisers that were ‘within the tent,’ much to their frustration.

These men were the best of us. God’s gifts to His church “of whom the world was not worthy” (Hebrews 11:38). They now join ranks of those of whom it is said, “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on…that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!” (Revelation 14:13) Truly, their deeds follow them.

We knew that MacArthur’s time would come sooner rather than later. Every Sunday morning, I would listen to one of his sermons while the rest of my family was still in bed, asleep. Each week, I would thank God that MacArthur was still with us, but I couldn’t help but wonder when he would join his friend, R.C. Sproul, in glory. While I mourn that the Lord called him home, we can look at his life and see that it was good, long, productive, and faithful.

But Kirk and Baucham were truly unexpected. I could never have imagined that a crazed leftist would assassinate Charlie at thirty-one years old. And, though Voddie had experienced significant heart issues in previous years, I had hoped and believed that all of that was resolved, and we would have him for decades to come. But in God’s providence and perfect yet inscrutable timing, that was not to be the case.

Last night, however, on the way to dinner with my wife, we saw the heartbreaking news from Founders Ministries that Voddie, at fifty-six years old, had been called home to glory.

It felt like we had been punched in the gut. This man had just taken the reins as president of Founders Seminary, where I am studying for my MDiv. He was one of the best preachers of my lifetime, and in my studies there, he was supposed to teach me how to preach. 

For the last 24 hours, I haven’t been able to shake the question: “Why Voddie? Why all of these men? Why now, O Lord, when it feels like the tide is turning?” Add to these deaths the attrition of once-faithful men like Steve Lawson and Josh Buice.  It feels like we can’t take any more losses. “If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:3).

These men had served as a solid foundation for God’s work in the world. It feels like those foundations have been destroyed. I can count on one hand the number of well-known pastors whom I actually believe would not be caught dead sticking their finger to the wind to see which direction the culture is blowing. The number of men with the gifting and the guts to turn the ship of Christendom in America is currently small.

But yet, they are there. “I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.” (1 Kings 19:18) There are yet men in this world, in our country, in our convention who have not kissed the idol of cultural relevance and have not bowed the knee in worship to the spirit of the age. You just don’t know them yet.

Or, maybe you do. Perhaps it is your pastor. Maybe it is the young man that your church sent off to seminary. Maybe it is the young man who came to your church for the first time ever on that first Sunday after Charlie Kirk’s death. Or, maybe, it is you.

When the best of us die, someone must take their place. We should certainly understand our gifting and recognize that there is a reason these men rise to these levels. We won’t all be the next MacArthur. Or Kirk. Or Voddie. That fact makes it tempting to look around and wonder who is going to fight the next big fight.

But, one of these days, the buck will have to stop with you. If you don’t do it, then who will? If now isn’t the time, when will it ever be?

At the risk of ripping off Willy Rice’s closing hymn in his article on Charlie Kirk, I’ll give you the third verse, made for a day like today:

Rise up, O men of God! The church for you doth wait. Her strength unequal to her task; rise up, and make her great!

O men of God, the church of Christ is waiting on you. You may not rise to the level of a MacArthur, a Kirk, or a Baucham, but you must rise. The Lord has called you for such a time as this. The church of Christ’s strength is unequal to her task. But the Lord will strengthen her by giving her men who will lead the way.

The church is seeking the next generation of men who will step into the fray. Find the courage that these men had. Nail your colors to the mast. Rise up, and make her great!