In Memory of Charlie Kirk: Courage, Conviction, and the Call to Follow Christ

Remembering Charlie

I can’t say I agreed with everything Charlie Kirk said. But as a brother in Christ, I recognised the strength of his faith. When he spoke from Scripture with conviction and courage, I often found myself nodding along. I admired his boldness - his willingness to stand on the Word and speak of Jesus openly, even when it drew anger, ridicule, and personal attack.

Where I parted ways with him was in politics, especially his support for Donald Trump. For me, Trump’s claim to be a Christian sits uneasily with the words and actions that so often contradict the life of Christ. Scripture tells us that “by their fruits you shall know them” (Matthew 7:16), and his fruits are not ones I can celebrate. Still, I hold judgement lightly, because only God knows the heart. I remind myself that Trump too is a child of God, sanctification is a process, and like all of us, he is loved despite his failings, and I hope he may one day come to know Christ more deeply. My disagreements with Charlie on this were real, but they never cancelled the truth of his faith. And in any case, this was never about Trump.

This was about Charlie.

Charlie the Man

Charlie the follower of Christ. Charlie the husband, the father, the son, the friend. I first came to know him through social media, where I found a man unafraid to declare God’s truth - not a shifting personal version or one that conceded to culture, but the truth of Scripture. His most visible work was around the clash between Christianity and the LGBTQIA+ movement, though his voice carried into many other areas as well. In an age where sexuality and faith collide so loudly, that was the message people most often associated with him.

With Charlie, I learned to listen for the heart of the message, even when I struggled with how it was delivered. When I disagreed, I could either keep listening or simply move on. What I couldn’t carry, I laid before God. That rhythm felt like a balanced way to live, though it saddens me how rare such balance seems to be.

The Shock of Loss

It was 1 a.m. here in the UK when I first read the news of his shooting, in a post shared by Pastor Phillip Anthony Mitchell of 28:19 Church. My heart sank. Charlie was a husband to Erika, and a father to two little ones - a son born in 2022, a daughter in 2024. My heart breaks for those children who will grow up without their father, carrying both the ache of his absence and the pain of how he was taken.

I grieve for Erika, whose life has been torn open by the sudden loss of her husband - the man she sent out with love, only for him not to return. I grieve for his parents, who now bear the cruel weight of burying their child. Thirty-one years old. Far too young. Charlie wasn’t sick. This wasn’t an accident. Someone made a decision to end his life, and in that decision, a family’s world was shattered. And so I sit with the sorrow, holding his family in prayer, remembering Charlie not as a headline but as a man who stood in faith, who spoke boldly of Christ, and whose absence leaves behind a silence impossible to fill.

The Divisions Around Us

We don’t yet know the shooter’s motive, and I won’t speculate. What burdens me, though, is how deeply divided America has become. Whether it is sexuality, politics, race, gun laws, or patriotism, there seems to be no space left in the middle. To take a stand is no longer simply to hold a conviction; it is to be expected to despise and dismiss those on the other side. In such a climate, people are no longer listening to understand. They sit silently, not to hear, but to reload their own words. Dialogue disappears, replaced by a kind of tyranny of certainty, where compromise and humility are treated as weakness. But Christ calls us to something different:

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)

Dying to self is not a rejection of conviction, but a surrender of pride - the kind of pride that insists only we can be right. When we let our own stubborn certainties become our foundation, we stop listening to Christ and begin leaning on our own understanding. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5–6). Perhaps that is why Scripture calls us so often to humility, to crucify the self, to make space for Christ’s Word to shape us in every circumstance. Because when we lose sight of Him, we lose sight of one another too. We stop listening to the still, small voice of God, and in doing so, we stop listening to the voices of our brothers and sisters.

Learning from Charlie

Even when I disagreed with Charlie - when his politics grated or his tone felt too sharp - I tried to listen, or else to set it aside without bitterness. What I could not carry, I entrusted to God. That practice didn’t make disagreement easy, but it kept me from closing my ears. It reminded me that what binds us together in Christ is far greater than what divides us in opinion.

On social media, the divide could not be clearer. On one side, Christians giving thanks for Charlie’s life, celebrating his courage to speak God’s truth, lifting prayers for his wife, his children, and all who loved him. On the other, people rejoicing in his death - mocking, praising the shooter, and hailing the assassination as a victory for their cause. The murder of a human being is never something to celebrate. Death is never a place to gloat. To find joy in the killing of another is not only a failure of compassion but also a sign of deep spiritual sickness. Whatever our disagreements, we are still called to hold space for one another. Jesus Himself showed us this. When a woman was caught in adultery and dragged before Him by those eager to stone her, He neither excused her sin nor joined the crowd in condemnation. Instead, He bent down, wrote in the dust, and finally said:

“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” (John 8:7)

He made space - for her dignity, for her future, and even for her accusers to confront their own hearts. Again, on the cross, as soldiers gambled for His clothes and passers-by mocked Him, Jesus prayed:

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)

Even in the face of cruelty and hatred, He held open the possibility of grace. If Christ could make room for both sinner and accuser, both executioner and disciple, then surely we can learn to listen, even when we disagree. To celebrate the death of another - no matter who they are - is to lose sight of that example entirely.

A Call to Repentance and Faith

If you call yourself a Christian and have smirked, or in some way found affirmation or joy in Charlie’s death, then I implore you to repent. I beseech you to realign yourself with Christ and His true message, to surrender any stronghold of idolatry - whether it be devotion to a movement, a political figure, a celebrity, or an ideology. Let us learn to be indifferent to everything except His will. I speak to you directly, and not to Charlie’s opponents, because God will never ask you about their sins. He will ask about yours. The book of Revelation warns us that we cannot be lukewarm; we must be either hot or cold, for otherwise He will spit us out:

¹⁵ I know what you have done; I know that you are neither cold nor hot. How I wish you were either one or the other! ¹⁶ But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I am going to spit you out of my mouth! (Revelation 3:15-16)

We must choose a side, and that side must always be Jesus. When this life ends - or when Christ returns, whichever comes first - we will stand before Him. Not to escape consequence or out of fear of hell, but as a living testament to the truth that He has touched and transformed our hearts. For He is the unchanging truth, and all of us will be judged: not according to our own definitions, not according to clever justifications, but according to Scripture and the evidence of the lives we lived. So I invite you: ask Him to search your heart.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” (Psalm 139:23–24)

Not only is He faithful to do this, but He is also good - so good that He will walk beside you, hold your hand, guide and counsel you, and bring you back to the place where He alone is the centre of your heart.

Closing Reflection

As I sit with the grief and complexity of this moment, I am reminded that wrestling with disagreement is part of following Christ. It is rare, and often uncomfortable, to hold firm in conviction while also holding space for others, especially those whose views challenge or frustrate us. Charlie Kirk lived in that tension. Even when I disagreed with him - whether over politics, tone, or emphasis - he reminded me that our shared faith in Christ binds us far more than our differences divide us. In his life, I saw a man who dared to stand boldly for Scripture, and whose courage inspired others to do the same. That is a legacy worth honouring.

And yet, our attention must never rest on human figures, however courageous, but on Christ Himself. Scripture calls us to die to ourselves and take up our cross daily (Luke 9:23), to live not according to our own understanding but in surrender to Him (Proverbs 3:5–6), and to allow His life to flow through us (Galatians 2:20). This is the challenge, and the gift, of faith: to follow Him completely, with all of our heart, even when the world around us clamours for allegiance to movements, parties, or ideologies.

Charlie’s life - and the tragedy of his death - points us back to this call. It reminds us that courage in faith matters, that speaking truth in love matters, and that every life is precious, beyond politics or opinion. But more importantly, it reminds us that following Christ requires attention to His will above all else. To love as He loves, to forgive as He forgives, to surrender as He surrendered, even unto death.

May we honour Charlie not simply by mourning his loss, but by examining our own hearts: by seeking the Lord’s guidance, by listening with humility, and by taking up the cross He places before us. For it is only in Him, and in Him alone, that our lives find true purpose and our convictions are rightly ordered. As Psalm 37:5 reminds us:

“Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will act.”

Charlie’s voice is silenced in this world, but the challenge he lived invites each of us to live boldly for Christ, to follow Him fully, and to remain anchored in the truth that will never pass away. Let Charlie's life inspire us, and let his death compel us to lean into grace, humility, and unwavering devotion to the One who is the source of all light and love.