Blurb:
The assassination of Charlie Kirk has sent shockwaves not just within politics but the church also. This episode, I reflect on the symbolic significance of Charlie Kirk, and the invitation for all of us in an increasingly troubled age.
Transcript of this episode:
Dear friends, this special episode of the Myth Pilgrim is being released two weeks after the tragic assassination of Charlie Kirk. While the world reels from the horror of this event, and mourns the loss of a great but sometimes polarising man, many of us have also had time to reflect on its broader implications. I am no historian, but I deeply recognize this as a significant cultural moment—not just for America, but for the world. As many Myth Pilgrim listeners will agree, symbols are powerful, and stories are powerful. Yes, Charlie Kirk the man is gone, but the symbol he represented—his values, his mission, his voice, his faith—these live on. Indeed, they seem to have been amplified. The Myth Pilgrim is not a platform for social or political commentary, but today, I instead want to suggest why Charlie’s death is a sign of our times, especially for the rapidly polarised West. Because among the many things that he is—political activist, author, husband, father—Charlie Kirk was fundamentally a follower of Jesus Christ, whose faith illuminated his every word and action.
Brief Biography
Who was Charlie Kirk? Born in 1993, Charlie Kirk was best known as the founder of Turning Point USA, an organization encouraging young people to value the importance of family, faith and free speech. Growing up in a family that valued community involvement, Charlie developed a strong sense of responsibility and civic engagement at an early age. He was raised in the Presbyterian church, and recounts his conversion moment in Grade 5, where he gave his life to Christ. After finishing high school, in which he was a keen sportsman, he never completed his degree, investing his time instead on mobilising social justice causes. At 18, he co-founded TPUSA with Bill Montgomery, aiming to create a counterpoint to more liberal advocacy groups. The organization quickly grew into one of the largest conservative youth movements in the U.S., boasting over 650,000 members and a presence on thousands of campuses by 2025. In May 2021, Charlie married his wife Erika, a businesswoman, podcaster, and former Miss Arizona 2012. They had two children together, a daughter and a son. Charlie was a vocal ally of President Trump and played a significant role in mobilizing young conservatives to his cause. He co-founded TPUSA Faith to engage Christian communities in politics and was known for his media presence, including hosting The Charlie Kirk Show. He was assassinated on Sep 10th 2024 during a public debate in Utah, and as of a few days ago, his wife Erica vowed to continue being the torchbearer of TP.
Having sketched a picture of Charlie’s life, I want to turn now to four potent symbols that he embodies, and reflect on their significance for you and I today. To be clear, the purpose of this episode is not to present Charlie as a flawless hero or saint. Like each of us, he had strengths and shortcomings, moments of wisdom and moments of weakness. But here’s the point: Charlie’s life speaks as a symbol for our times. And symbols have power—they awaken, they challenge, they inspire. My hope is that, through these four symbols, you’ll feel the invitation to live your own faith more boldly, more radically for Christ. Jesus made it clear that there is no half-hearted disciple. It’s always been all or nothing—and that call is even more urgent in our age. So, with that spirit, let’s dive in.
Symbol 1: Charlie Kirk as Prophet
When we hear the word prophet, many of us picture a bearded figure from biblical times, or perhaps an eccentric spouting conspiracy theory on the internet. But in Scripture, a prophet was never simply someone who foretold the future. Rather, a prophet is someone sent by God to speak the truth about a situation, to stir consciences that had become dull, and ultimately, to turn back to God. Think of Jeremiah, Isaiah, Jonah, and others—each spoke God’s word to a culture who had turned their back on him. So yes, Charlie Kirk played this role of prophet—far more intentionally than most of us. As his friend and mentor Tucker Carlson observed, “he was fundamentally a Christian man, and Jesus was the centre of his life, and this was obvious to anyone who knew him. It emerged naturally when you spoke to him. His life was about following Jesus—period. So the best way to explain who he was is to talk about Charlie and Jesus’ relationship.” In the wake of his assassination, Charlie’s pastor shared how much Charlie loved the word of God, devouring it every morning before his busy schedule. See, a prophet is not a mythical figure, but someone who responds with Isaiah’s “Here I am, send me.” That same invitation is extended to all of us—to speak truth today with love and courage. We may not need to set up a stall in our universities, but we do need to go where the Gospel is most needed. Where might that be in your life? When asked in an interview what he wanted most to be remember for, Charlie immediately responded “courage for my faith.” May such words awaken the same zeal within us.
Symbol 2: Charlie Kirk as Martyr
When we hear the word martyr, our minds often go to the first Christians—persecuted and executed in great numbers—or to the heroic missionaries in lands like Japan and Korea, who gave their lives so the Gospel might take root. Yet martyrdom is not confined to history books. Even today, across the world and often far from media attention, men, women, and even children are killed for their faith, for standing up to oppression. What set Charlie apart is that his witness took place on the world’s stage. He was not just taken out because of partisan politics, nor some atrocity he inflicted as a leader. He was killed because the words he spoke—ignited by his Christian faith—was rejected by some. Truth was received as hate-speech. As John tells us: “the light came into the world, but the darkness did not receive it.” It is of my humble opinion then, that Charlie did die a martyr for the faith. I say this without needing to ascribe to him some saintly perfection or idol status – he was neither to me. But rather, I deeply honour any man who is willing to take a stand for his faith, even while knowing the dangers he was putting himself in. His death acts as a sobering reminder of the cost of truly following Christ, a cost that Christ himself foretold his early followers. And yet, the same Christ promises, that if grain falls to the ground and dies, an abundant harvest is born. As the saying goes, “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” Looking at the fruit of Charlie’s death, one cannot help but stand in awe: thousands of new TPUSA chapters continuing his work, students across campuses being baptized in large numbers, genuine renewal stirring across the country, crosses being worn again in workplaces, and even a vice president declaring that he has spoken more openly about Jesus Christ in the past two weeks than in his entire public life. Truly, a tree is known by its fruits.
Symbol 3 – Charlie Kirk as a champion of Western civilisation
The fact that Charlie Kirk was shot in the neck at his vocal cords, on a university campus—the very place where ideas are born and debated—is deeply symbolic. As Bishop Robert Barron points out, he died with a microphone in his hand, not a weapon. He chose to do battle with words, ideas, and truth, a foundational value in Western civilisation. How? I’ll quote now verbatim, something that Bishop Barron wrote in First Things:
“Charlie Kirk died with a microphone in his hand—not a gun or a knife or a grenade, but a microphone. Charlie Kirk’s method, which he practiced on college campuses all over the country, was to invite into a public dialogue people who disagreed with him. You can watch him at work on thousands of videos on YouTube. You’ll notice that he doesn’t duck hard questions and that he engages his interlocutors respectfully, even when he’s articulating a position radically contrary to theirs. In employing this method, Charlie was standing in a tradition that stretches back to ancient times and provides one of the foundations of Western civilization. In the streets and byways of fifth-century b.c. Athens, Socrates spoke, especially to the young, not through attacks, but through conversations. He asked probing questions, criticized the answers he received, pressed his opponents to formulate their views more exactly, admitted when he hadn’t seen something important, and so forth. If Athens is one of the bedrocks of Western culture, the other is surely Jerusalem. And within that explicitly religious ambit, a similar method is on display… There is a Christian version of this in the work of my intellectual hero, St. Thomas Aquinas. In the universities of the Middle Ages, learning took place principally through what were called quaestiones disputatae (disputed questions). These were public exercises in which a master would lay out his resolution of an issue and would subsequently entertain objections—sometimes dozens or hundreds—and finally respond to the objections one by one. And to be sure, this tradition of truth-seeking through conversation thoroughly conditioned our American Founding Fathers, who built an entire political system on dialogue, debate, and freedom of speech.”
So, one of the bedrocks of western civilisation IS respectful debate and freedom of speech. Friends, let’s not take any of these values for granted, for if live in nations outside what would be classified as western, such freedoms cannot be assumed. They are not simply cultural “musts,” but treasures that have been nurtured and handed down. At their root, these values grow out of two Christian assumptions: (1) the dignity of the person you’re debating with, AND (2) that truth is objective and real. Both flow directly from a Christian worldview. Let’s consider each in turn.
Assumption 1: The dignity of the individual: If one doesn’t believe in the dignity of the individual, then the best way to get everyone to agree is simply to brutalize or eliminate one’s opponents. In the last century, many powerful figures did just this: they didn’t ‘dialogue’; they threw their opponents in jail, tortured them… or shot them. But if one holds to the intrinsic dignity of each human being, one will always use words rather than guns. This is what Charlie modelled well – while he had bad days like all of us, he stands out as one who did not seek to dehumanise his opponents but, on the contrary, made a point to invite them into dialogue, believing that even sharp debates were preferable to violence. As he famously says “when people stop talking, that’s when you get violence”. This is why he set up small booths on university campuses, creating space for difficult conversations. One of the qualities I most admired in Charlie was his willingness to acknowledge a fair point made by an opponent, and even to thank them when they brought forward something he had not previously considered.
I believe Charlie was able to do this because he recognized that the true enemy was never the interlocker in front of him. He knew the real battle is, as St. Paul reminds us “not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). This awareness gave Charlie the ability to remember that each debate partner was first and foremost a human being—often a wounded one—rather than an adversary to be crushed. We would do well to pray for the grace to do the same.
Assumption 2: That truth is objective: dialogue assumes that truth is objective—that it truly exists, and that the task of both sides in any debate is to seek it together. Without such a standard, arguments quickly collapse into shouting matches: my truth versus your truth, or worse, or that what is “truth” is dictated by the most powerful, like in totalitarian regimes or the world of Orwell’s 1984. Sadly, many of Charlie’s opponents did abandon the search for truth and resorted instead to attacking him personally.
Bishop Barron puts it memorably: “Think of a group of kids who endeavour to play baseball but without a common understanding of the rules of the game. They won’t play at all; they will, in very short order, start to fight.” So how can we debate truth well today, in a time when the political scene is so polarised? First, we must agree on the terms we are using—like when Charlie begins an abortion conversation by defining what is meant by the term abortion, or what a human being is etc—before going further. Secondly, we must remember that the goal of conversation is not to win an argument, or humiliate an opponent, but to discover what is actually true. Charlie embodied this beautifully. In one interview, he explained that he approached every conversation willing to be proven wrong and eager to learn. This openness was the wellspring of his wisdom, admired even by colleagues who disagreed with him. After all, it is often our opponents who reveal what we cannot see in ourselves—our blind spots. Charlie didn’t merely tolerate such challenges; he welcomed them. And so should we. Who are your “enemies”? Those who fundamentally disagree with your worldview? Don’t dismiss them—listen, engage, and invite dialogue. In doing so, you may glean profound wisdom yourself. Sadly it’s becoming clear that not every interlocker is interested in dialogue today – and we must especially pray for those who appear to be ‘possessed by an ideology’ as Jordan Peterson calls it. The worst thing we can do is to react and character assassinate – which is precisely the tactic the Enemy would be playing. No, prudence and discernment is necessary here, for if the invitation to dialogue is refused, shake the dust off your sandals, and move on.
On this note, one potential weakness of TPUSA online content—perhaps fuelled by social media algorithms—was the tendency to showcase Charlie’s exchanges with the most extreme opponents. This gave the misleading impression that everyone opposed to “conservative” or “right-wing” values was a radical or a bigot. Such portrayals can actually further the divide, and risk casting everyone on the left as opponents incapable of dialogue. This is something we all must discern carefully, especially in the age where our perception of reality is so, so warped by digital media.
Symbol 4 – Charlie Kirk as defender of Family
St John Paul II once said, “however goes the family, goes the nation and the whole world in which we live.” The family truly is the fundamental cell of society: the first building block, the first school of love. From the beginning, it has never been incidental in God’s eyes. Genesis 1 reveals God’s very plan for humanity to flourish in family, and his invitation to bring forth life. Family was not just one of many issues that concerned Charlie; it was central to his politics, his faith, and his values. Under its umbrella fall the hot-button topics of abortion, the right to life, gender, equal pay. But for Charlie, these were never battles of left versus right, conservative versus liberal. They were about truth—truth that shaped Western civilisation for millennia, and truth he himself had come to embrace.
Reflecting on her late husband, Erika Kirk said: “The greatest cause in Charlie’s life was trying to revive the American family. Whenever he spoke to young people, he tried to show them God’s vision for marriage—and how daring to live it out could enrich every part of their lives.” Indeed, whether on stage or in conversation, a constant theme emerged: Charlie’s invitation for young people to place marriage and family at the heart of their lives. As J.D. Vance observed: “For Charlie, marriage and family were the highest callings—far above any job or credential.”
He didn’t just speak about family and marriage; he lived them. Friends often noted the love he had for Erika and their two children—his proudest joy. Even while travelling abroad, Charlie wrote to Erika daily, always ending with the same question: “How can I serve you better as a husband?” In this, he left us a powerful witness to fatherhood and manhood. Not a few young men I have spoken to since, have felt a real stirring of their own lives, in the wake of Charlie’s death. How might I be called to step up as a man, as a father, as a husband? At Fatima, Mother Mary warned us that the greatest and final attack upon the world would be against the family – how might I be called to defend and promote family today?
Final invitations
As we finish this episode, I want to really drive today’s explorations home by offering two practical pilgrim exercises.
- First is, how can I grow in wisdom through listening to my enemies, and encouraging dialogue? By truly listening to those of a different perspective, you may well gain insight that only they can offer
- The second exercise is closely related. We live in an age marked by deep, deep polarisation—left versus right, conservative versus liberal, Marxist versus capitalist, Israel versus Palestine, traditional versus charismatic. Where does this leave us Christians? The answer of the church is that we stand with human dignity. Always. Yes, we may align with a particular side on certain issues, but never at the cost of forgetting the dignity of persons on both sides. To uphold and defend that dignity—esp. with a preferential option for those most at risk—is to carry the spirit of Christ. How might you take this stand, in your spheres of influence? How might you live fully alive, fully embracing a cause that’s bigger than yourself?
One can’t help hearing the words that Jesus might be speaking over Charlie as he entered eternity “Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.” Friends, may this be the promise that steers your lives now, and into eternity.