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Charlie Kirk was only thirty-one years old when he was shot and killed this week. Just a little bit older than me. His name has been on the political scene for as long as I have been paying attention, and whether you agreed with him or not, he had a way of making sure you could not ignore him.
What has disturbed me even more than the violence of his death has been the reaction online. Within hours, people were mocking him. Some went as far as celebrating. Others used his death as a weapon in political arguments. Watching it unfold felt like staring at a mirror, reflecting just how much our moral fabric has frayed.
Hero or villan
The temptation in moments like this is to flatten a man’s life into a simple story. For some, Charlie was a champion, a truth-teller, a Christian who stood unashamedly for his faith. For others, he was reckless, provocative, and part of what they saw as a toxic political culture. The reality is that human beings are never this neat. None of us are. Scripture reminds us that all have fallen short (Romans 3:23), every single one of us. That includes Charlie Kirk, and it includes the people mocking him today.
This is where I think Christians are called to resist the spirit of the age. Jesus did not give His followers permission to cheer when enemies fall. He told us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. That is not sentimental advice. It is a radical command that cuts against the logic of outrage. It is uncomfortable because it forces us to see even the people we disagree with most fiercely as image-bearers of God.
Learn from his boldness
What strikes me about Charlie’s life is the boldness with which he lived out his convictions. You might not agree with his politics, you might not even like his style, but you could never accuse him of being timid. He spoke loudly, sometimes brashly, about what he believed. In a culture where silence often feels like the safest option, his refusal to be ashamed of his faith is something worth noticing. Paul wrote in Romans that he was not ashamed of the gospel. Charlie seemed to live by that same principle, for better or worse.
I do not say this to sanctify him. Like all of us, he was flawed. I say it because his death is a stark reminder of how short life really is, and how little time we have to decide what we will do with our own convictions. It is easy to spend years watching, critiquing, scrolling, and waiting for the perfect moment to act. But none of us are promised tomorrow.
As I reflect on his death, I find myself less concerned with what people thought of Charlie Kirk and more concerned with how I am living my own life. Am I bold enough about what I believe? Am I quick to show grace even when I disagree? Am I willing to love when the crowd is cheering for hate?
Those are the questions this moment presses on me. My prayer is that we as followers of Christ will not let cruelty and outrage disciple us. That we would remember the witness of Stephen, who prayed forgiveness for the people throwing stones at him. That we would remember the words of Jesus, who asked the Father to forgive those who nailed Him to a cross. That we would be different.
Charlie Kirk’s death is tragic. But maybe it can also be a reminder. Life is short. Convictions matter. Grace is still the better way.
We have a choice
When Stephen, the first Christian martyr, was stoned, Acts 7 tells us he prayed, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” That prayer echoed the words of Jesus Himself on the cross. Both men faced violent injustice. Both refused to let hatred have the final word.
Charlie Kirk’s life and death confront us with the same choice. Will we be a people who let politics define the boundaries of our compassion, or will we remember that even our enemies are worthy of dignity and prayer?
I am the same age as Charlie. His death rattled me because it forced me to see my own mortality. None of us are promised tomorrow. Which means the real question is not simply, “What do we think of Charlie Kirk?” The real question is, “What will we do with the time we still have?”
May we spend it with courage, with grace, and with a determination to resist the cruelty of the age.