On Sunday night, some 90,000 people packed an Arizona stadium to commemorate the life of conservative commentator Charlie Kirk, ten days after he was assassinated.
Many more thousands filled a nearby stadium and thousands more watched from a screen outside the stadium. Some of the most well-known political heavyweights were in attendance, as Kirk was eulogised by President Donald J Trump, who was flanked by members of his cabinet behind a bullet-proof screen.
Millions more tuned in to watch the star-studded memorial online, hearing from names on the right including Tucker Carlson, who said that Kirk, 31, knew “politics is not the final answer,” and that he believed the “only real solution is Jesus.”
Multiple speakers, including commentator Benny Johnson, remembered Kirk as being “Christ-centred” – testifying that he himself was a “loser with an alcohol addiction” before Kirk’s influence helped him to turn his life around. Vice President JD Vance, a Catholic, confessed to the crowd that he had just remarked to somebody backstage that he “always felt a little uncomfortable talking about my faith in public,” but that “I have talked more about Jesus Christ in the past two weeks than I have in my entire time in public life.” The crowd erupted.
The stadium was alive with worship music, as Brandon Lake performed “Gratitude” and Kari Jobe belted out “The Blessing.” The most moving address of all came from Mrs Erika Kirk, Charlie’s widow and the mother of his two small children, who correctly pointed out that “we didn’t see violence or rioting after Charlie’s assassination, but revival.”
Indeed, parallels have been drawn between the scene in the aftermath of George Floyd’s death, when Black Lives Matter organised riots nationwide that injured hundreds of police officers and caused an estimated $2 billion in damages. When Charlie Kirk died, money was raised for his family, and people organised prayer vigils which swept across America. An online trend was born where those who hadn’t darkened the door of a church in years showed up to services last weekend. Many who hadn’t opened a Bible in decades did so. There were no injuries; there was no looting, and there were no riots. There is a contrast, and it’s well-worth pointing out. As many pointed out on X, ‘We are not the same.’
It’s too early to say if seeds of revival have already been sown in the wake of Kirk’s death – but it would certainly be a religious revival, a spiritual one, because with the finality of death comes the realisation that politics can only bring us so far. I’ve heard self-described agnostics, in this last ten days, use words like “demonic” – terms truly foreign to their vocabulary – to describe some of the laughing and gloating around Kirk’s death from others who complain that he was too controversial. There’s a lot of talk of darkness and evil. The conversation certainly feels more spiritual than political.
Charlie Kirk did not want to be remembered for his bright mind or his debating prowess. Yes, he liked to argue. He loved free speech and through his work, he allowed ideas to be tested. How do you know if an idea is a sound one? You test it, you tease it out, you see how it stands up when someone plays the devil’s advocate. That’s how you know if you have a good idea, or a bad one. Charlie did that at countless college campuses even when facing the weight of sometimes thousands of signatures calling for him to be cancelled. He had, reports say, been warned that that over 6,000 people had signed a petition against him coming to Utah, where he was ultimately murdered. His ‘Prove Me Wrong’ tour was causing somewhat of a firestorm. He still showed up.
But what he wanted to be remembered for most? In a resurfaced video from June, he was asked that very question.
“How would you want to be remembered?” Kirk replied:
“I want to be remembered for courage for my faith – the most important thing is my faith in my life.”
For Kirk, politics was important but it was secondary. He urged people to get involved at a local level – to take an interest in the people being elected to their councils. He cared about society and meaning and human potential. His advice to young people? “Get married.” Just two days before he was killed, he told a segment on Fox News that he felt young women were running the risk of losing meaning-long term because they were busy making “careerism and consumerism” the priority.
“Having children is more important than having a good career – my kids matter more than how many social media followers I have,” he said.
Above all, Kirk was not afraid to share the Gospel he believed in – just hours before his death, footage of him speaking at a ‘Restaurant Tour’ event in Salt Lake City, captured him telling supporters: “One of my favorite verses though, is Romans 8:28, which says that God works all things for good for those who love Him.” In the wake of his death, Kirk’s reciting of Bible verses and love for theology are huge parts of his growing virality.
In Ireland and in Britain, we’ve been so conditioned to accept the total secularisation of politics, to the point where it seemed somewhat shocking to watch Charlie Kirk’s memorial and hear US leaders talk about Jesus Christ and eternity and faith. We think: are they really allowed to do that? Should religion not be separate from politics?
It’s worth asking: where has the sheepish denial of our faith gotten us? I ask that as someone who believes in God and to others who also believe. It’s easy to want a quiet, convenient life, but it’s not what you’re called to as a Christian.
When I lived in London, it became clear to me that the departure from practising Christianity has opened the door wide to the influence of Islam, which seems to be growing stronger than Christianity. The concept of the Christian West seems dead and buried when you can go days without seeing decorations for Easter, or when ‘Christmas’ is a word all too easily swapped out for pagan offerings like ‘Winterfest’ yet supermarkets are colourfully and enthusiastically decked out for Eid Murabak, marking the end of Ramadan for Muslims. We know that Christianity would not be celebrated in an Islamic country.
It’s hard not to think that just maybe as Christians we have been too compromising, too sheepish, and too cowardly when it comes to standing up for our own values and living by them. We’ve allowed a vacuum to emerge and it will be filled by something. I think that, in the US, it’s a positive thing that public figures can express faith in God and professing biblical values.
In Ireland, we’ve been told for so long to shake off the remnants of Catholic guilt, to not appear old-fashioned, to care more about not offending anyone than being a public Christian. But private Christianity has not gotten us very far, has it? Church numbers are in free-fall because our religious leaders often care more about being liked than shepherding a flock that will one day end up facing eternity. Vanilla-flavoured Christianity has kept young people in their beds on Sunday mornings. It’s boring, and it’s too close to the tone of the world to offer anything different. Sunday morning yoga on the beach? That’s far more appealing to the young women of my own generation, and sometimes, I don’t blame them.
What I took from Kirk’s memorial is that it’s ok to publicly believe in heaven and to strive for it. Not only is it ok, but it is required if you do believe. That it’s a good thing to be unapologetic and to assert that good and evil exist, and we should differentiate between them. We should not be complacent, but we shouldn’t be cowards as Christians and too many of us are. Charlie Kirk was effective because he had a backbone and he was brave.
I didn’t quite realise how brave he was until the news flashed through that he had been shot in the neck for showing up at a college campus to have a debate. He was not afraid to be hated. He let himself become indifferent to the hatred aimed at him, and was always open to debate. Seems like a different brand of Christianity to the watered-down kind we have here in Ireland, but there’s a lesson for us in it. The other lesson, evidenced in the memorial, is that politics is good and debate is good and we must be engaged – but these things only bring us so far. What do we cling to when everything goes wrong in our lives? Suffering ultimately leads us to faith when there is no other way out. You can choose despair or you can choose hope.
Most powerful of all was Erika Kirk’s decision to forgive her husband’s killer. If you haven’t seen it, I recommend you watch it:
Watching her do so was the reason I started writing this article because a moment like that cannot go by without a response. It’s hard to find the words when we see something so counterintuitive play out in front of our eyes, in front of millions. A beautiful young woman, now a widow forgiving the killer who left her children without a father. To much of the world, it must seem bizarre.
“Our Savior said, “Father, forgive them, for they not know what they do.” That man. That young man. I forgive him. I forgive him because it was what Christ did in his. What Charlie would do. The answer to hate is not hate. The answer we know from the Gospel is love and always love,” Kirk, who is a baptised Catholic, said, before almost collapsing, exhausted with emotion.
People expressed suspicion in the comments. After all, to err is human, but to forgive, divine – is there any greater proof that God’s grace is real and active than someone finding the power, in the pits of debilitating turmoil, to forgive? It goes against everything in our human nature and every fibre of our being.
More than anything her husband could have said whilst he was alive, and Charlie Kirk said many good and wise things, Erika Kirk’s simple three words through tears, “I forgive him” will do more to make people question if maybe, just maybe, there is a God. If the spiritual world is, in fact, real, and if we really can be transformed through faith. The words of St Paul to the Phillippians, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” take on a whole new meaning. Erika Kirk’s act of forgiveness may confound us all, but it may also have the power to point thousands to faith in the midst of suffering.
Maria Maynes is an author at Gript, where this piece was first published.
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While I wholeheartedly agree with the essence of the article, and have said so for years within my own circle, that politics is not the answer, that authentic Christianity is the answer to the dire state of life in modern societies, I have reservations about the concept of saying that we forgive someone who has wronged us, without any request from them for forgiveness. It’s certainly un-Christian to harbour a grudge, but that is different from announcing forgiveness.
The writer quotes Christ’s words of forgiveness “for they know not what they do”, on the cross but that was unique. Christ was the Messiah and they had no idea, in truth, what they were doing. That does not reflect the kind of situation where someone like Tyler Robinson deliberately planned to murder Charlie Kirk because he disagreed with his political beliefs. Christ, remember, also said – more than once, that repentance and forgiveness are tied. This, from the Gospel of St Luke, for example: “If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.”
With all due respect to Erika Kirk, and my heartfelt sympathy and appreciation of the goodness in her which prompted her statement, this trend in recent years of victims or relatives of victims announcing unsolicited forgiveness is misplaced. It fails to understand that a key reason to highlight the need for repentance on the part of the perpetrator before forgiveness, is out of concern for his personal spiritual and eternal well-being. Ironically, to announce unconditional forgiveness is to prioritize the human life and happiness of the perpetrator over his eternal salvation, to make him “feel OK”, if not to “feel good about himself” as the saying goes. As long as we feel good about ourselves, that’s what matters. False. Sometimes, at funerals in the past, I’ve groaned inwardly to hear the recessional music – the Frank Sinatra song “I did it my way”. If “my way” is contrary to “God’s way”, I’m in big trouble over there!
In summary, then, I admire Erika’s kindness and perhaps even a desire to speak about forgiveness to prevent any retaliation from Charlie’s supporters, but the fact is, for forgiveness to mean anything, it has to be linked to the acknowledgement from the perpetrator/sinner, that there really is something to forgive and he is truly sorry for that – in this case – murder. As it stands, Tyler, apparently, thinks he did the world a favour.
I am reminded of the story of a couple of old women in the Highlands who had engaged in an ongoing feud for years. When one of them reached the end of her life, suffering on her deathbed, the priest visited her enemy and suggested she go to make peace before the old lady died. She agreed. On arrival at the deathbed, she said “It’s a pity we fell out all those years ago over that business, but I forgive you.” To which the dying woman replied sharply: “There’s nothing to forgive!”
Many of us ‘far-right despicables’ abhor mawkish sentimentality and religion(s) influencing politics in this secular age.
Nathaniel,
It is the fact that we are living in such a secular age that makes the influence of “religion”, as you put it, very more important.
The position of the Catholic Church is that, while the Church must be free of State interference, it is not true that the State cannot be influenced by believers. Indeed, it is considered part of Christian duty to make Christ known in “the public square”.
Mentioning the Church reminds me that the author of the above article repeats the (yawn) claim of “Catholic guilt.” And that, of course, is a bad thing. From my teenage years, I’ve never understood how experiencing guilt is a bad thing and after the various terrorist atrocities in recent years, I often wish those responsible could experience “guilt”. Even a little.
I know, too, that there are psychotherapists who used to say that they had few Catholic clients, since they were not riddled with guilt, which they attributed to the healthy practice of regular Confession and thus, correct conditions present, absolution – nothing left to angst about. Maybe that’s not true any more, now that “therapy” is a “thing” but when asking my Catholic friends recently, they acknowledged that it wouldn’t occur to them to nurse guilt and that regular Confession saves them a fortune in therapy payments!
So, we will probably have to agree to disagree on that one.
We most certainly do disagree on this one. I would never ever trust any public figure who felt it appropriate to verbally reference their faith in their normal life (i.e. outside of their own home, place of worship or via their private thoughts and actions) as I believe it’s an entirely private matter.
Nathaniel,
What about Christians (or people of non-Christian religions) who are deeply worried about the moral state (or rather the immoral state) of certain legislation making its way through Parliament: for example, there were people of faith who were appalled at the very idea of permitting the decriminalisation of abortion, meaning babies could have their lives ended right up to birth; and at the very thought of assisted suicide, actively helping people to die for various reasons, especially in the case of terminal illness or end of life. These laws have left some people fearful of their relationship with medics, and, in some cases that I’ve heard myself, means that they avoid even contacting their GP at time when, previously, they would have made an appointment.
There is a key point to consider; those who do not believe in God or who give Him a relatively low place in the order of things in their own lives, might not fully appreciate that for people of faith speaking out against the State seeking to weaken or destroy the moral law, is central to their beliefs about God. It’s not because they, as individuals, are offended (although they may have personal concerns of course about such laws) but if they believe in an all-powerful God who will judge them at the end of their lives, asking what they did to prevent bad laws taking root in their own country, then I hope you will appreciate that it is not for selfish reasons or to impose any preferences on others, but out of concern for the greater good and to avoid offending God.
And it is true that in the UK (and elsewhere) we have moved from accepting relativism in morality to a position where so many people no longer even know right from wrong – and that clearly includes politicians, too many to name here.
Again, I’ve waffled on – apologies.
Unfortunately you fall too easily into the trap of justifying the superiority of your own (Christian Catholic) faith by casting aspersions upon those ‘who do not believe in God or give Him a relatively low place in the order of things’ who, in your worldview, must possess lesser moral standards than your own. If every MP was also a Methodist Minister do you honestly think nothing immoral would ever be legislated?
All clergy, and especially the heads of most Christian denominations, will receive a damning judgement from God for their cowardly conduct during COVID – I think though this isn’t something they fear as they demonstrated that they don’t actually believe what they preach or churches would have remained open and clergy would have ministered without fear of catching or spreading the re-branded flu. I use this example merely to illustrate that seeking Utopia is a false cause and doomed to disappointment and failure.
Oops, Nathaniel, typo…
“very more important.” should be “even more important”.
Apologies.
I don’t know whether the mention of the ‘healthy practice of confession’ is meant in a serious or sarcastic way. I’m not Catholic so maybe I have no right to express an opinion, which is – the concept of being able to do absolutely ANYTHING, however heinous, and receive absolution by confessing and merely saying you repent, seems completely wrong, and anything but ‘healthy’. Just my opinion.
I don’t see why Erika Kirk’s forgiveness of her husband’s killer should be thought of as any less valid because the killer shows no repentance. You could see how difficult it was for her to get those words out, and she is a better person than most of us – certainly me, as I could never forgive, ‘living with it’ would be about the best I could manage. Hopefully knowing that her late husband would have forgiven, will give her strength.
I’m paraphrasing, as I can’t remember the exact words or who said them, but at some point during the endless news coverage and debate, somebody said something along the lines of ‘that person is at the end (even if he lives), but we are just beginning. They think they have killed us, but they have planted a seed.’
Kangarabbit,
Firstly, of course Erika is to be admired for her sentiments of forgiveness. She is obviously sincere and acting as she believes is the Christian way. I do not mean to belittle that at all. Generally speaking, however, according to the Gospels, there has to be repentance on the part of the sinner before forgiveness can take effect.
And you are perfectly free to express your opinion on any of my comments – I’m not always right (believe it or not) and I am prepared to be corrected when necessary.
I wasn’t being sarcastic when I referred to “the healthy practice of confession”. I was making a serious point and if you think about it, it’s very common to hear psychologists/doctors and friends tell us, when we experience trauma or are in a difficult situation, that “it’s good to talk” – it helps relieve the stress of certain situations and it can clarify our minds; also, in a “relationship” difficulty, admitting our own failings can help fix things.
As for the Catholic Sacrament of Penance – “Confession” – as you say, quoting: “…the concept of being able to do absolutely ANYTHING, however heinous, and receive absolution by confessing and merely saying you repent, seems completely wrong, and anything but ‘healthy’.” Ends.
But that is not what happens in Confession. It’s not about going into “the box” and reciting sins and being absolved, no matter what. The conditions for absolution are straightforward enough: the penitent, the person making his/her confession must be truly contrite, truly sorry, and must be determined not to commit that sin again. Of course, a priest cannot always be sure that these conditions are met; if the person admits their sins, prays the Act of Contrition when prompted to do so, and accepts a (small) penance, then the priest will usually assume that the person is genuine.
However, when it is clear that the conditions are not met, that’s a different matter. A few some months ago, someone in my own circle of friends and acquaintances, a twenty-something young man who routinely engages in what used to be called “the marriage act” with his girlfriend, decided to go to Confession after a long absence. I can’t remember what prompted him to do that, but afterwards, he revealed that when he had finished his confession, the priest asked him if he now intended to stop the intimacy with his girlfriend. Tom (not his real name) replied: “No, Father, I can’t and I won’t”. The priest informed him that, therefore, he had no option but to refuse absolution.
So, it’s not about automatically being absolved, no matter what. Certainly, at this point in history, the Catholic Church is going through a time of turmoil, crisis, confusion into chaos stuff, and not every priest will be as conscientious as Father X above. The fact is, and the negligent priests know it and will be held accountable for it, those confessing grave sins without repentance, who – for one reason or another – manage to hear those words of absolution in the Sacrament, are NOT absolved. As St Paul warns: “God is not mocked”. Someone may fool a priest, or a priest may be neglectful, but it’s God who provides the grace of the Sacrament, the absolution – or not.
Now, that is much longer and more detailed that I meant to write but worry not, it’s all free of charge!
The person who killed Erika’s husband is presumably not going repent, or even pretend to. For all we know, he may, and probably does, want her to suffer, and ‘give up’, not carry on her husband’s work. Or is indifferent to her feelings – he doesn’t care whether or not she forgives him. But she has forgiven him, so I don’t see, whatever the scriptures say, how anybody can tell her that her forgiveness is meaningless (It can’t and it won’t take place), because the sinner has not repented. That is heaping cruelty upon cruelty’. I hope nobody says that to her.
Yes, it is always said that it’s better to forgive, and not let the poison of harbouring (or whatever the opposite of forgiving is) something awful that another person has done to you. And if you are yourself the perpetrator, ‘talking about it’ to somebody whom you know can’t repeat it and get you into trouble, for instance a priest, is certainly going to help you. Loading the sin on to somebody else is absolving you of responsibility, in fact it’s tantamount to believing you didn’t actually do it. But do you deserve to be absolved if you kill another human being? Just by saying you repent, whether you do or not? That does bother me, and the concept of the priest having the power/right to tell a murderer, it’s OK, as long as you’re sorry, all is forgiven – in fact it’s a reset, as if you haven’t done the deed. Indeed, it saves the cost of therapy, but doesn’t help the family of the victim, unless they happen to have the faith and strength of Erika Kirk.
Talking of people we know, or used to know, a friend of mine, many years ago, married a Catholic man – not a very devout Catholic it must be said – she became pregnant twice – once before they married, and I won’t go into detail about what happened as abortion wasn’t even legal then. She was 16. Then when they did marry two years later, she was pregnant. I was not aware of any of this until afterwards, and wouldn’t have known what to do or say if I had known. He was 10 years older than her, and I did think he should have known better. He was nice enough – they had a long and happy marriage and three other children. What struck me as monstrously unfair, was that she had to ‘convert’ and go to confession after they were married, to confess to using birth control. I don’t know if she ever claimed to repent, but not wishing to spend the next 20 years pregnant every year, let alone house, feed and afford children ad infinitum, they still carried on using contraceptives – and I honestly don’t see why that is such a sin, or that it’s anybody else’s business. There is obviously a great deal that we will never agree on, but we can agree to disagree.
That isn’t my story to tell, and I probably shouldn’t have – I don’t know if it has anything to do with Erika Kirk forgiving her husband’s killer. In my friend’s case, I doubt she repented not wishing to have a child every year, but the Church she had married into compelled her to ‘confess’. In my opinion Erika’s expressing forgiveness is between her and her God, and she has every right to do so and to believe it’s real. Hopefully, the fact that the church apparently says she can’t do it, will not stop her believing that she has done what she knows is the right thing.