“You can tell a lot about a man based on the enemies you earn.”
~ Charlie Kirk
Charlie was a man who knew exactly what he was doing. He got up earlier than us, worked harder than us, and slept longer and better than any of us. He made more friends than any of us. Not just the number of friends but the kinds of friends. He was a coalition builder. A rare philosopher, theologian, evangelist, statesman. The kind of man the world needs more of. The kind of man that makes enemies.
Though Charlie knew what he was doing, he did not know he would die doing it. But he did know he could. When asked about his opponents, Charlie said abortion would draw a crowd but the monomaniacal opposition came from those in the transgender movement. He died answering a question about transgenderism.
I’ve watched a lot of Charlie Kirk videos in the past week. And though we should all be a little conflicted about how attached we can grow to podcasters and internet personalities, in this case, I have no reservation. In Charlie Kirk, I have found a kindred spirit.
Allow me to begin this post commending Charlie on that theme: with kinship.
Charlie was my brother.
No Christian suffers alone. Peter admonishes persecuted Christians to resist the devil, “knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world” (1 Pet. 5:9). That word, “brotherhood” is apt. It’s been one week since his murder. A week ago, Charlie was another man in my feeds. This week I found in Charlie a brother in Christ who resisted the devil’s schemes; a brother whose suffering the Apostle commends so that I might be made strong.
Perhaps that is why I take it personally when I learn about Christians who are conflicted about his brutal assassination. I’m in good company. Jesus wasn’t afraid to associate with his people. It is Jesus, who said to Saul on his way to kill Christians, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4).
Charlie was not afraid to associate with Christ, and I’m not afraid to associate with Charlie. Brother or sister, if you need to be in lockstep with every point, emphasis, and “vibe” to identify with Charlie, you wouldn’t identify with me, either. Charlie Kirk engaged his public service as an explicit Christian, with Christian aims, and with Christ on his lips. Let me be clear: He was one of us.
It is because Charlie is our brother that I’m writing this tribute to commend his life. Because of why he died—for his country, for his family, for me. Because of when he died—at age 31 and in this cultural moment. And because of where and how—his death emblematic of what we’re up against as Christians and as Americans. When Charlie was shot in the neck, so were we. Someone who murders a police officer attacks the justice system. Charlie’s alleged killer attacked every American. But because Charlie wasn’t just promoting free speech, but speaking the Truth as a Christian, he died representing his brothers and sisters.
Charlie’s murder is the highest profile assassination in my lifetime, even since Robert Kennedy was killed in 1968. Rightly, this has our attention.
From older church members, I hear, “I didn’t pay much attention to Charlie, but I wish I did.” But from several younger members, I hear of students who have cried daily since Charlie was killed. Charlie had their attention already. Whether you are new to Charlie or well-worn in his feeds, be encouraged—be made strong—by Charlie’s life and death. I write to honor my brother and to strengthen you.
A bridge to reality in a world of lies.
It’s becoming old hat to say that we are in a crisis of institutional trust. And yet, for the young, it’s their only hat—lies from the government, the healthcare establishment, “the science,” and the schools—with much of the media carrying water for all of them.
But then there was that tent on campus (or in our feeds) where Charlie said all kinds of outlandish things, like boys are not girls, sex is for marriage, marriage is a blessing, pornography is as destructive as it is evil, abortion is murder, DEI brings out the worst in all of us, and nations should prioritize their own borders and citizens over the notion of a global community. Boldly speaking truth at an open mic with the invitation, “Prove Me Wrong.” Boldly speaking with conviction because Charlie believed truth stands up to scrutiny. Because he believed they are true.
Charlie founded Turning Point USA as a college dropout to persuade a younger generation to embrace conservative ideas and ideals. If that sounds political, it is. It’s political because the truth about humanity—see the list above—has political consequences for which all Americans, including and especially Christians, are responsible. He was dissatisfied with how poorly politicians with the best ideas communicated those ideas to his generation. He set out to do better.
In a culture where young people are told the day is night and the night is day, Charlie spoke plain truth, and he challenged us to do the same. For example, he rejected that pronoun nonsense. He was right to do so, and some youth had a better ear for it than many adults whose livelihoods and reputations were tied up in keeping appearances with a lie.
Charlie called evil “evil” and good “good” (Isa. 5:20). Charlie spoke the truth with conviction and compassion, and that act of courage gets you killed in this age of make-believe and lies (Jn. 8:44). History has no shortage of precedent to this trend, and Charlie’s boldness proves no difference.
A man humble enough to grow and change in public.
When Charlie founded Turning Point USA, he was 18. He was killed at age 31. As we all do in that run of years, Charlie changed. Not everyone changes for the good, but Charlie’s change was growth in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ. Some tend to hide growth like this, but Charlie did so unwaveringly in full view of the public. Charlie grew in his conservativism, from a more libertarian outlook that saw Christian conservative priorities as a liability, to a man who saw the foundations of all truth rooted in Scripture.
In short, he became more explicitly Christian—more confident, more compassionate, more fierce, more creative, and more insightful as to the relationship between the foundation of his faith and the foundation of everything else. He also grew in his zeal for the lost Christ came to save.
Even as he grew in Christlikeness and boldness in his proclamation, he only gained more friends. Several of my own friends knew Charlie well. The reports in the news are consistent with their accounts—Charlie was the real deal. And yet the reports from unbelievers in the news are hard to distinguish between the reports from Christians. They say the same thing—about his faith, his character, his sincerity, his love.
A skilled evangelist who risked scorn to rescue the lost.
Charlie was a bridge to reality, but also to heaven. “Let’s make heaven crowded,” he’d say. This ambition is the measure of the value he placed on the people in front of him. He did the work of an evangelist to win souls to Jesus. He was courageous because of Christ. He cared about what people thought because he cared about them. He did not need their approval. But for Jesus’ sake, he did want their ear.
How is this possible for a man so deeply involved in political discourse? Watch Charlie and find out. Perhaps we are too accustomed to politicians who use Christianity and pastors who neglect politics. In the vein of Christian giants like Francis Schaeffer, Charlie understood—as he often told us—that politics flows from culture and culture flows from our religious life, the spiritual of which is most important. Over and again, with sincerity and skill, Charlie spoke the good news about Jesus in ways that were both plain yet tailored to the soul standing before him.
Charlie listened, defined terms, and sought common ground. He revealed inconsistencies and assumptions with good questions. He granted the best interpretation of people’s motives and told them so. He dignified his opponents and silenced crowds that mocked. He also mocked the insufferable when they demanded it. He got better at all of this over time.
Again, as it was for Schaeffer, there were no “little people” to Charlie. And no little topics. For the Christian does not see in “bits and pieces,” but the whole—which is why Charlie could speak about public policy in one breath and the resurrection in the next.
Western civilization is the fruit of a Christian foundation for law and culture, family and human government. Everything in creation gives us a chance to speak about where we came from (creation), why creation groans (sin), and where it’s all going (Christ or condemnation).
Regrettably, I’ve seen confessing Christians led away from Christ by fashionable political doctrines. Marxist categories for humanity, change, and the future quickly erode the foundation of a professing Christian’s faith. But Charlie knew conversions work in the other direction, too. The truth about men and women, humanity and family fit the world we’re in, the souls we have, and the Scriptures that explain it all.
A good man in an age of androgynous man-childs.
Charlie’s manner of life commended his message. He was a family man—a husband, and father. He knew what a man is, and that he knew what a woman is. Just as important to being a real man, Charlie was willing to tell the difference between men and women in public. He did all of this in an age that insisted that men and women are interchangeable—that women can do anything that men can do and that men can do anything women can do, including have a baby.
The bar for being a “good man” is low for men in public life, testifying to how dangerous public life can be. Yet as Charlie matured, married, and had children, he showed us what it can look like to be a normal guy living a good life—and, thus, the good life. Charlie was a good husband, his wife’s sweetness and smile are proof of that. Erika beamed to introduce her husband, and yes, some people just naturally glow. But Scripture tells us that the glory of a wife is her husband and in the Kirk’s marriage, you could tell (1Cor. 11:7). Charlie was a good father, shown in part by the fact that we don’t know his children’s names and haven’t seen their faces. They were his, not ours.
A defender of the weak in the belly of the beast.
The two topics he engaged more than any others at his campus events: abortion and transgenderism. Two topics he was ready to address. Why? Because no two topics represent the needs of the vulnerable more than these. No two topics concern greater matters of idolatry or justice in our own day. Add to this the subject of race and justice, the problems with aspects of civil rights legislation of the 1960’s, affirmative action, and DEI. These too are matters of justice that concern the vulnerable—just not in the ways we have been told a thousand times.
Why engage these on the college campus rather than just on X or a podcast? Charlie went straight to the source knowing the most fertile ground for these grotesque ideas was the academy. He went where the bad ideas germinate; a context extracted from the real world but whose ideas eventually sprout and hit the streets. Charlie was famous for saying that “college is a scam.” I haven’t heard all that he had to say on the matter. He drew attention to the obscene costs of higher education. But also, to the cost extracted from individuals and families in the liberalizing and radicalizing of our young. If Christian families were concerned about the liberalizing force of secular college education forty years ago, how much more today?
Which leads me to a final commendation.
A man twice vindicated.
Charlie died with a mic in his hand under a banner that said, “Prove Me Wrong.” Charlie’s assassin proved Charlie right. Quite literally, Charlie was right that free speech is under attack. His manner of death vindicated his mission in life. On September 11, 2001, we were attacked by an enemy from without—Islam. On September 10, 2025, we were attacked by an enemy from within.
The response to his death doesn’t reveal the difference between Christians and unbelievers—not in my feeds. Rather, his death has revealed the difference between Christians and Americans on the one hand, and Marxists on the other, including plenty who name Christ. A willingness to kill or put up with violence in order to silence speech is a telltale sign of this ideology’s hold even on unknowing subjects.
All true Americans commend fierce public debate, whether they like a man’s ideas or not—full stop. All true Christians find strength and solidarity in the “brotherhood throughout the world” (1Pet. 5:9). Marxists and those imbibing Marx’s ideas rejoice in political violence. Be assured reader, this is our national disease. An ominous Marxist mood advances, an emerging cancer with a bias to violence. If it sounds ridiculous to your ears, just think of all the people we know who die of sicknesses they didn’t know they had until it had long progressed. Our disease has not yet killed us—not yet.
But Charlie is vindicated in another way. As we considered this past Sunday, death’s iron gates cannot and will not prevail against the Church. And so we say with the psalmist,
O LORD, how many are my foes!
Many are rising against me;
many are saying of my soul,
“There is no salvation for him in God.” …
Arise, O LORD!
Save me, O my God!
For you strike all my enemies on the cheek;
you break the teeth of the wicked.
Salvation belongs to the LORD;
your blessing be on your people! —Psalm 3:1, 7–8
The lion may sink his teeth into a brother in a tent with a microphone, but the Lord breaks the teeth of the wicked.
Charlie earned his enemy in this world. His assassin stands no chance in this life, and neither does he in the next apart from the Lord Charlie confessed. Neither do you. Neither do I.
What’s next? We do exactly what got Charlie killed. We speak and invite everyone else to do the same.
The next time you’re embarrassed about what someone might think of you …
Remember Charlie.
Don’t care about what people will think about you. Care about what they think because you care about them. Care about them more than they care about themselves, a posture that has its risks.
Yes, pray for your enemies. But first, be willing to earn them.
