Charlie Kirk was a guy who lived near the very edge of my current-events radar screen, if even he was on it at all. I’d heard of him, and probably could have connected him with Turning Point, USA if I’d had to. But that’s about it.
Now, in the aftermath of his murder, I am learning more about him in his death than I had in his life, and that forces me to ask myself, once again, what business I have sharing opinions about what’s going on in our nation and world. I don’t know anything that tons of other people don’t know a whole lot more about than I do.
I do know what lots of people are saying about Charlie Kirk, most of them not only trying to prove their own political creds to the world, but, more importantly, to draw me into their circle of beliefs. In this war of attrition we call political discourse these days, it’s the body count that matters, not the quality of the arguments.
Amongst all of this clangor there are few plaintive cries imploring us to become more temperate in our discourse, to respect one another more, to try a little harder to act like Americans all. I appreciate those cries and I value them, and I wish—O how I wish!—those cries might come to something positive.
Alas, I think and I fear it is too late. The horse is out of the barn, and the cat is out of the bag. Our democracy’s fate is sealed, and our republic, Mr. Franklin, is lost. We cannot go home again, because those in power do not want us to and will not allow us to.
I still have opinions about things, and I will continue to express them in the respectful and thoughtful ways I hope for from us all. But offering what I think about our current political situation feels somewhat akin to sharing my thoughts about the weather while experiencing an earthquake and a tornado at the same time. Who cares? Who has the wits to care? It’s whistling in the wind while our very foundations shake ourselves unto death.
It all might drive me back deeper than ever before into some form of my lifelong Christian faith. A form so basic and so simple that it simply assures me that Jesus loves me and loves you and loves us all, and I don’t know exactly what that means or how it will finally play out, except that by some grace both Charlie Kirk and I will one day both be held in those everlasting arms. And if Jesus can hold us both close, Jesus can and will do even more than I will ever think, or offer opinions about.