One Week Later – To Speak or Not To Speak

From the Dashboard >

The assassination of Charlie Kirk has forced Christians into yet another moment of cultural reckoning. The shock of the event is still fresh, and the temptation has become irresistible to many in both the church and online to rush to judgment, assign blame, or demand immediate and definitive statements from pastors and Christian leaders. But the counsel of Scripture is clear to us:

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” James 1:19-20

There is “a time to be silent and a time to speak.” Ecclesiastes 3:7

The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues. (Proverbs 17:27-28).

The voice of God is not unclear or ambiguous. He’s telling us, before adding to the undisciplined cultural noise, we would be well-served to step back and ask what kind of response is truly needed and truly edifying right now.

I’ve spoken with some this last week who are adamant that every pulpit speak directly to the tragedy. I understand that perspective. I get why some would consider silence as compromise, and pastors, preachers, elders, and deacons who hide from the issue as cowards. But asserting that is both uncharitable and it risks promoting a new kind of fundamentalism.

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That is not how the New Testament describes pastoral leadership. God calls preachers to pit His unchanging Word against the ever-changing world, and a shepherd who knows the flock is the one most qualified to discern when, where, and how to connect those dots. That means there will have to be grace extended to those who don’t react exactly as we would.

The choice to address, or not address, an event like this in a Sunday service could be determined by many different factors: the needs of the congregation, the timing of scheduled teaching, the pastoral sensitivity required when emotions are running high. Pastors bear the burden of feeding their flock the whole counsel of God. They should not also bear the suspicion that every decision is secretly partisan. Christians would do well to resist the instinct to read everything through the lens of politics and instead give their leaders the benefit of the doubt.

But what about how we regard and speak of Charlie Kirk himself? Some have been quick to lionize him; others, just as quick to tear him down. Both responses miss the complexity of a human life. Kirk was not perfect. He said things he later regretted. He sometimes misrepresented others in his zeal to win an argument. His rhetoric could wound. And yes, there were areas where his theology showed gaps and immaturity. But if we are honest, is that not true of every one of us? How many of us would want our entire legacy judged on the basis of our harshest words, or a clip taken out of context? It is uncharitable, even reckless, to reduce a man’s life and ministry to a handful of soundbites pulled from thousands of hours of speaking and debating.

That does not mean we ignore flaws. It means we remember that God works through flawed people, and that the measure of a life should be broader than its lowest points. Kirk was brilliant. He was fearless in debate. He engaged opponents with an intensity that was, at times, unrefined, but undeniably courageous. And most significantly, he was not ashamed of Christ. Whatever else may be said, he wanted to be known first and foremost as someone who belonged to Jesus. That should not be overlooked.

But in all the reading I’ve done this last week, I can tell you what I’ve learned: Charlie Kirk understood that politics is not the answer. He engaged the political sphere passionately, but his deeper message was that Christ alone saves. No political philosophy, whether liberal or conservative, can redeem the human heart. No slate of laws can reconcile sinners to God. To put politics on the same level as the gospel is to confuse categories so completely that it borders on blasphemy. Kirk saw that distinction clearly. And in a political age where partisanship is all-consuming, that clarity was (and remains) critical.

So how should Christians respond in this moment? By refusing to let the noise drown out the truth. We do not honor Kirk by canonizing him or canceling him. We honor him by letting his example of boldness remind us of the call to stand unashamed of Christ in our own generation. We honor him by rejecting the lie that politics will fix what is fundamentally spiritual. We honor him by extending charity to one another, especially in how we speak of him, his legacy, and the pastors tasked with guiding congregations through turbulent waters.

The assassination of Charlie Kirk is tragic. It exposes the deep fractures in our society, the dangers of our rhetoric, and the volatility of our political moment. But it also confronts us with a question: what will define the church’s witness now? Will it be partisan outrage, or will it be the unflinching proclamation that Jesus Christ is Lord?

As Christians, our task is not to raise our children, build our churches, or engage our culture in the hope of preserving a fragile safety. Our task is to ground all of life in the hope of Christ crucified and risen. That is the only protection we have. That is the only answer worth offering. And that is the legacy worth leaving behind.