Eulogy

A few thoughts on the assassination of Charlie Kirk

Yesterday, as of this writing, our society lost a far more impactful soul than it has yet realized. Today, as we meander warily on the far side of the Rubicon, we should all ask ourselves: What have we done?

For far too long a destructive ideology has festered among us; one that accepts the idea that words themselves hold the power to harm, and that the differences inherent in disagreement can be considered a form of violence. This belief, cradled in academic institutions in a decades-long insidious creep, has taken our infantilized population by storm. Nowhere can this be seen more poignantly than in the tragedy of Charlie Kirk.

I admit I didn't watch his events very often. Personally I didn't thrive off the drama of spectating these tense debates on social issues. That's on me. Charlie, though, did not spare his efforts—rather, he poured himself out whole, day by day and month by month, in front of countless young, passionate souls, tirelessly connecting with them through his dogged belief in the power of civil discourse:

"When people stop talking, really bad stuff starts. When marriages stop talking, divorce happens; when civilizations stop talking, civil war ensues. When you stop having a human connection with someone you disagree with, it becomes a lot easier to want to commit violence against that group."

I'm beginning to realize just how important it was that he labored ardently by this tenet. He achieved what so many of us are far too cowardly to attempt. He believed in every one of these people with whom he conversed and debated. And he mastered the rocky ground of disagreement with a grace that sparked a thousand genuinely human moments; moments where the armor fell like scales from people's faces and even a viewer online could watch the miracle of some instantaneous bond of knowing and trust flit through and fly away just as quickly. You could see the eager hunger in each of these faces—the desire to connect, and to be understood. Astoundingly, I believe Charlie genuinely understood them all.

It seems that far too many of us failed to extend him the same courtesy. We defamed him, we paraphrased him in the most uncharitable contexts, and we allowed an unjust resentment to build to a graphic tipping point.

Why? Why has disagreement become such an ominous gavel? Why have the stakes of good faith debate risen so severely? The most important lesson I grappled with in becoming a man was this: My identity, my beliefs and my emotions are mine to tend, and no one else can regulate them for me. By that token, I cannot and must not surrender them to the whims of others. For far too many in today's society, survival itself seems dependent upon the wholesale affirmation of their peers. It's no wonder, then, that these same people so often label any hesitation as an existential affront (I once heard it as the phrase "emotional violence"). These astronomical stakes around disagreement breed desperation, and we see it encroaching day by day in the rotten soliloquies of millions of angry and unheard young hearts, in whose dark recesses the fight-or-flight festers with every utterance of a contrasting point of view.

I've seen far too many people say yesterday and today that Charlie "Lived by the sword (of damaging words) so he died by the sword (an answering bullet)." I caution any and all of you who may flirt with this sentiment to seriously consider the fire you've been so cavalierly toying with. Treating disagreement as a deadly threat opens a very black door of the soul, one I'm quite sure most of you aren't ready to discover. One such door was cracked open yesterday, and in its shadow millions collectively grieve for a widow and two fatherless children—all because of words. Who will be next?

If you believe Charlie Kirk should die for upsetting you, then why stop there? Why not go after all of us? —All those who have been likewise defamed, who've witnessed the venomous rage of desperate disagreers and their zeal to tear apart legacies and ruin lives over misunderstandings or differences of opinion. For the battle-scarred like us, yesterday's shot was personal, because we see ourselves in a small portion of that same grim spotlight. We've seen amid the ashes of character assassinations just how far some of you wish you could go. Wish no longer; yesterday a new precedent was set, and the goalposts horrifically moved. Are you sure this is how you want the argument to end?

Rest in peace, Charlie. The chaos we feel in your wake only proves to me how much of an impact you made. And I believe you've inspired a generation to listen again.

The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift his countenance upon you and give you peace.

Amen.