Reflections on Charlie Kirk’s Assassination

The news of Charlie Kirk’s assaination was jolting for everyone. How could it not be? Intuitively, we know violence is not God’s design, and targeted, calculated murder visibly shows us where the path of rejecting God can go. 

I did not speak about this event on Sunday from the pulpit. I rarely am the first to speak about such issues. But I also understand that silence speaks something in its own right, so I’d like to share reflections since the news broke. Like you, I’m sure your emotional experience has been varied. I know mine has. If you would afford me the opportunity, perhaps we can explore these emotions with a Gospel perspective. Our emotional life is complex and ever-evolving. How do we process what we feel in a way that leads us to draw nearer to God? How can we allow the Gospel to healthily guide us through what we’re feeling?  Let’s take a look at a few emotions that either you or someone you know has undoubtedly felt:

Fear. Millions of Americans resonated with the message of Charlie Kirk. Some for his policies, and others because he winsomely communicated the values of life and marriage according to God’s designs. And if you identified with either, you might be frightened that since you hold his views, you too are in danger of being targeted like he was. 

Anger. This emotion is often triggered because something we hold valuable is in jeopardy or has been lost. It can produce positive effects like motivating us to execute justice. It can also produce negative effects, such as seeking vengeance for ourselves or making the mistake of victimizing the group the perpetrator represents. In other words, we judge the group for the individual. 

As a side note, the desire for justice should be consistent and fitting to the offense. To those who have pointed out the discrepancy between flying a flag at half-mast for the murder of Charlie Kirk but not for recent school shootings, I agree with them. We’re faced with the harsh reality that human responses will always fall short of God’s perfect justice. 

Sadness. If on the political right, you might feel saddened that a political voice was lost. But deeper than politics, the life of someone made in the image of God has been taken. Imagine the grief of his wife or his young kids growing up without the shepherding guidance of their father. We’re reminded that sin is far more serious than we’d like to think. It has the potential for catastrophic ripple effects that can span decades. 

Apathy. Most of us live full lives, so why let a news cycle become an obstacle to our goals? It’s much easier to keep our heads down, turn down the noise, and keep to ourselves. That’s one reason for why we might experience indifference to Charlie Kirk’s  assassinaton. A more dangerous reason is that we don’t care because we didn’t agree with him. He wasn’t one of us, therefore, why allow ourselves to be emotionally involved? Both responses reveal something about our hearts. 

Gladness. Just as millions of Americans mourn the loss of Charlie Kirk, many have expressed their satisfaction over the silencing of his voice. This shouldn’t come as a surprise. Without a moral compass, dignity for someone we disagree with is impossible. Respectfulness is not the answer, but erasure. When we disconnect ourselves from God, we then begin to enjoy the things he hates. Such is evidence of a seared conscience. 

How do we respond to such emotions? How do we bring these to God and invite him to help lead and even heal our hearts? 

As is the answer to all things, we need the Gospel

First, we need to parse out if our emotions are more closely aligned to a political leaning or to the designs of God? Our allegiance to Jesus must always triumph over other worldly affiliations. For those who don’t believe in God, it’s natural that they look to the government to solve the problems they face. But we have a greater and truer source, namely, Jesus Christ. 

If you’re trying to discern whether you have set your heart upon the values of the world, gladness would be a conclusive indicator. And so would apathy. If you’re a Christian reading this, you lost a brother. You may have disagreed with him on some of his policies, but he challenged areas of our culture that go against the truth we derive from the Bible, such as abortion and homosexuality. Apathy to the loss of a family member or a voice that promoted truth would be a sign that we are either too engrossed in our own world — exposing selfishness — or that politics holds more affection in our hearts than Jesus — exposing idolatry.

But what about fear or sadness or even anger? 

In our fear, we can take comfort over the fact that God is sovereign. Ever since the launch of Christinaity from Jerusalem, our values have been threatened. In the West, we do not experience this tension as much as in other places of the world. But they are real. In certain places like Africa and Asia, our brothers and sisters face an existential threat to their lives everyday because of their confession to Jesus. 

When Jesus tore down the values of the corrupted Jewish religious system, their answer was murder. We should not be surprised then, as the apostle Peter writes, when we face trials of various kinds (1 Peter 4:12). Nor should we expect better treatment than the kind Jesus faced. What we can be confident about is that God rules over the evil plots and schemes of men. He reigns, and the values of his kingdom will ultimately prevail. 

In our anger, we must avoid seeing man as the enemy or any particular group as the problem. Rather, the one who has caught men in lies and deceit, like a spider in its web, is Satan. Our battle is not of flesh and blood but of demonic and spiritual powers (Ephesians 6:12). This means that we do not answer a spiritual problem with worldly means. Rather, we must answer a spiritual problem with a spiritual response. We pray for God’s will to be done, for justice to be swift, and for God to move in the world so that Satan’s grip as the prince of power of this world (Ephesians 2:2) is loosened. 

In our sadness, we look to our hope that one day the tears of sorrow will be wiped from our faces, and the mourning due to loss and sin will be put away. We do not let this sadness go to waste. Instead, we leverage this sadness to inspire vigilance. We live in a sin-cursed world; as a result, we stand on guard against our own sin and ask God to remove our own character flaws that have the potential to inflict its own kind of pain into the world. We also leverage this sadness to inspire a different way. In a world that can only conceptualize violence or cancellation as the answers to conflict, we must model compassion and love as we uphold the imago Dei for every individual. At the same time, we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus. Do not delay!” 

Perhaps from my own personal reflection, I’m left with the conviction that we need more men and women like Charlie Kirk. Please be careful to avoid adding what I’m not saying. At our church, we have those that identify as Republicans and Democrats. Both parties miss the mark in their own ways. So, I’m not saying we need more political activists. And I’m not saying we need more Republicans or Turning Point USA chapters.

But we do need more men and women to have their lives shaped by their faith in Christ. For Charlie Kirk, his faith was not a part of his life but it drove his life. Charlie Kirk’s faith was not idle or swept under the rug. And this drive caused him to engage college campuses and many more through varying social media platforms. Putting our faith forward will look differently depending on our vocations and posts God has given to us. Bold faith in action is a rare commodity, and I hope thousands will fill his shoes - not as Republicans or Democrats - but as truth-bearers that have their own role to play in shaping culture and reorienting the lost back to their Creator.

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