When I heard the news, I immediately wanted to wake up. It couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare from which I would soon awaken. I had to call my wife and ask her if she’d seen the news, because only once confirmed could I believe this was real life.

And if this was my reaction, what was his wife’s reaction at the scene? It could only be infinitely more terrible. No one deserves to witness such instant, violent hatred. No child deserves to lose their father. No wife deserves to lose her husband. I couldn’t imagine my wife walking through life without me; it would destroy her. My kids are the same age as his. This is called empathy.

Charlie Kirk died on September 10, 2025, sometime between 12:23–2:40 PM MST. The founder of Turning Point USA was shot and killed by a lone gunman while speaking at Utah Valley University in Orem, Utah. While details are forthcoming about the killer’s motives, the whole Internet has been aflame with opinions and conspiracies. In what follows, I would like to offer five reflections on Charlie Kirk, American politics, and Christianity.

The 5 Stages of Grief and a National Tragedy

This is a national tragedy. No matter your thoughts on Charlie Kirk, if you consider gun violence a problem when it happens to children in schools or Democrat politicians at their home, then it is no different when a Republican talk show host is gunned down. It doesn’t matter that he said that some gun deaths are necessary to uphold the Second Ammendment. It doesn’t matter that he often came across opposed to LGBTQ individuals, immigration, and the Civil Rights movement—if we believe in free speech, as we should as those who believe in the Constitution—this is a national tragedy. An attack on free speech, more than it is an attack on Christian or partisan values.

But with that said, there’s been a lot of talk. Everybody has a take. Heck, even this article is another take. But this is a tragedy and there is a lot of grief to go around. And grief affects everyone differently. As you could see by my initial paragraphs above, my first response was Denial. But one of the five stages of grief is also Anger. So as people process, as people are angry—let’s walk with love and compassion. And for those who were often the targets of Kirk’s more controversial takes—for whom it was easy to jump to Acceptance—do the loving thing and walk patiently with those who are in Denial, in Anger, in Bargaining, in Depression. This is the only way to deescalate the rhetoric.

Responding Well to Political News

The political state of our country is a disaster these days. The divide between parties is as wide as it has ever been, and I fear it is only growing wider. And this is not a new problem. Some of my earliest memories of politics are loud discussions between my parents and grandparents (even though they were all on the same side of the aisle). The other side has always been the villains, and the problems in our country have always been their fault, and there’s very little (if any) willingness to look in the mirror.

And then Charlie Kirk was assassinated. And the immediate response, as I scoured the internet for news updates was almost unanimous. President Obama, Vice President Kamala Harris, and Sen. Cory Booker, D-NJ all agreed that this is a terrible tragedy, and hoped he would pull through. Many (myself included) took a moment to address the killing machine as the target of our anger, and I would argue that this is a healthy way to let out the Anger we were all feeling in our grief—much preferred to stretching the party divide by targeting a political side in the wake of the tragedy.

Unfortunately, President Trump, in the midst of a speech post-Kirk’s death, insisted on attributing blame to the “Radical Left” before any evidence of who pulled the trigger or why had come to light. This is not the way forward. The way forward is much like the way we moved forward back in the aftermath of September 11, 2001—linking arms and working together to overcome adversity and hate. We don’t have to all be straight, white, Christian males to make America great. What makes America great is our diversity and our resilience in the face of tragedies. We say the Pledge every day in schools to “one nation under God,” but we’ve got a million “nations” within our nation: everyone has their own stubborn, divisive opinions. This can only lead to bad results. As Abraham Lincoln said, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”

My Experience of Charlie Kirk

The saddest part of this whole thing for me—the biggest reason why I was initially in Denial over the news about his shooting—was that I was no fan of Kirk’s platform. I was no fan of his speaking style. I was no fan of how he presented Christianity. He often came across like a know-it-all, and he often reminded me of abusive pastors I’ve suffered under in years past.

I distinctly recall coming across videos of him back in 2019–2021 or thereabouts, and immediately following him because we were on the same page. We both claimed Christ, we were both right-leaning in our political views, and he was boldly engaging people in important conversations. I’ve always been bold behind a keyboard and relatively bold behind a microphone, but talking to total strangers in person, unprompted, has always terrified me. So I loved that he was doing what I was too nervous and insecure to do.

However, sometime over the course of this past year, I unfollowed him because I had started to find some of his rhetoric disturbing. He said he wouldn’t trust a Black pilot to fly his plane, along with other ableist garbage. He was overly pro-Israel. He believed women should stay at home and have babies. These are facts of his platform, and denying them does no one any good and fails to be a loving attitude toward those who were actually attacked by his message at points, which includes myself.

Denying the unfortunate facts of his platform fails to show love to those genuinely hurt by his platform.

But he was a Christian. And as a Christian I was called to love him (just like I still love the pastors who cast me aside in years past). And when we cross paths someday in eternity, I’ll thank Charlie Kirk for his bold witness, because—like all of us—he was a work in progress.

Love Believes All Things

I stated above that Charlie Kirk had started to remind me of abusive pastors I’d sat under in the past. As such, my trauma informed my perspective, much like every time I see a bald pastor at a church I’m immediately set on edge—especially if he’s only middle-aged and apparently bald by choice. So as I work through this section, please be patient with me (and read it carefully). In addition to love believing all things, love is patient. I wish I’d been more patient toward Charlie Kirk.

I wish I could have had the opportunity to engage Kirk in a classic Lincoln-Douglas style debate on a Christian or even political topic. But it’s impossible to truly debate with someone who throws out purposefully inflammatory comments in an effort to fluster his opponents. (This is what I thought of Kirk’s style when I unfollowed him earlier this year.) When someone assumes they’re right and the other side is completely and totally wrong, it hijacks the possibility for constructive dialogue.

This is far too common in evangelical Christian culture today—it’s called presuppositional apologetics, and its purveyors presuppose they are right and their opponents are wrong, regardless of what sort of evidence is presented to the contrary. One of their primary scriptural supports is 2 Corinthians 10:3–5 which talks about demolishing arguments raised against Christ.

The shortcomings of presuppositional apologetics is an important discussion for another time, but I understand Kirk as being in this camp. I’m fairly certain this categorization is correct, and from what I’d seen of him before gathering details to write this post (admittedly no two peoples’ algorithms are the same), he often came down hard on positions opposed to his own (much like my former pastors). These sorts of people would benefit from reflection on 1 Peter 3:15–16—and I share it now because in the wake of this tragedy, and in the spirit of 1,000 rising up in his place, we have to be better. 1 Peter 3:15–16 says,

But honor the Messiah as Lord in your hearts. Always be ready to give a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you. However, do this with gentleness and respect, keeping your conscience clear, so that when you are accused, those who denounce your Christian life will be put to shame.

HCSB, emphasis added

However, as I studied more—got more context on a lot of Charlie Kirk’s videos—it became clear to me that he actually did practice a lot of gentleness and respect. Certainly not always, but a lot of the time. So I hope that when the thousand rise up in his place that they are just as gentle as he aimed to be.

He knew where he stood, he knew his position, he proclaimed it boldly and without equivocation, and—more often than not—he did it with gentleness and respect. It’s true that he wasn’t perfect at gentleness and respect, but if we expect perfection from anyone—how’s our own perfection coming along? We will be judged by the same standard we apply to others (Matthew 7:2; Luke 6:38).

Many of my less conservative readers might look at what I’ve written so far and say that I’m out of my mind for framing Charlie Kirk this way. Maybe I am wrong. But 1 Corinthians 13—the great “love chapter”—says that love “believes all things and hopes all things.” So if you say you are a promoter of love, you can’t insist on the worst about people. As such, I believe that the fact that he had recently started changing his tune on Israel and was calling for the full, unedited release of the Epstein files implies that he was in a transitional period to a more biblical perspective on many issues. Might I be wrong? Sure. But I choose to believe all things in the name of love. And I hope you can too.

You see, ten years ago, I would have held many of the same perspectives as the negative videos of Kirk’s rhetoric reveal. (I even voted for Trump in 2016.) Listen to my album 2020 Vision and notice what I was saying even five years ago; some of it I’ve continued to build on, but other aspects of it I’ve completely jettisoned from my worldview.

God worked with me. He has allowed to walk in the shoes of those outcast from churches. He’s allowed me to work with hundreds of kids from many different backgrounds—some of whom might not have been here fully legally. And the fact stands—these people are not terrible people. Even the ones many conservative Christian Republicans insist are going to hell if they don’t repent and change their minds about various aspects of themselves are only trying to live in undisturbed peace. They are not trying to undermine America as we know it. Again—love believes all things!

So Charlie Kirk was a Christian first and foremost. And while his rhetoric sometimes counted against his witness, I believe if given 10 to 20 more years to continue living, he would have grown to hate some of the things he had said as a younger man.

Charlie Kirk: The Martyr?

However, even though Charlie Kirk was a Christian, there is a question about whether or not he should be considered a martyr. I’m a Christian, but if I get murdered in my home during a botched break-in, I’m not a martyr. Abraham Lincoln isn’t considered a martyr. MLK isn’t usually considered a Christian martyr, even though he was a martyr for the Civil Rights cause (one could probably say similar about Lincoln). You see, we don’t know the killer’s motive. We don’t know what it was about Charlie Kirk that made the killer pull the trigger. Was it his faith? Maybe. Was it his political positions? Maybe. We just do not know.

And I believe in my heart of hearts—as someone called to promote Christian love and unity—that he was starting to become disillusioned with toeing the party line. As a Christian, he was indwelt by the Spirit of God—a Spirit that is not partisan. And as a Christian, he sought the voice of God and was starting to heed it more than the political talking points his party expected him to take.

As such, and given what I said as it relates to love believing all things, I am inclined to believe that yes, he did die for the way his beliefs affected his politics. He did die for the way he encouraged civil discussion on university campuses (in gentleness and respect), and gave people a voice. He did die fighting for love, even though it was by no means perfect love. But this is the reality: live in love; find your true reward. Sometimes love—like Charlie Kirk’s, like MLK’s, like President Lincoln’s, and like Jesus Christ’s long before them—results in death.

I long to thank Charlie Kirk for his witness someday.

Conclusion

Regardless of your political or religious affiliation, we should all be able to agree that Charlie Kirk should still be alive today. And the fact that he is not—the fact that he has left behind a wife and two small children—is a tragedy. An unspeakable tragedy.

He fought for free speech. He fought for open, civil discussion. He fought for the Gospel.

And while the rhetoric of “fight” in the same breath as Christian terminology can strike us as nationalist and dangerous, the true Christian fights himself, his comfort, his selfishness, and his pride first. I believe Charlie Kirk was doing this, and was welcomed into the arms of his Savior on Wednesday to the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

May Christ say the same of each of us about our politics, religion, and interpersonal relationships.

Thanks for reading.

In this with you.