A Nation in Mourning, A Call to Resolve

Charlie Kirk was tragically murdered. There is no debate about whether this was wrong. It was, and it always will be. A husband has been taken from his wife. Small children will grow up without their father. Parents are burying their son. Friends and colleagues are grieving the sudden, violent loss of someone they loved. This never should have happened.

I didn’t agree with Charlie on everything. But that’s not the point. The point is that he was committed to dialogue. He believed in bringing ideas to the table, in debating, in questioning, in opening up space where people could wrestle with truth. That kind of courage—to talk openly, to listen, and to disagree without destroying one another—is exactly what our nation needs.

When we stop having dialogue, we stop seeing one another as human beings created in the image and likeness of God. And when we stop seeing each other in this way, that’s when we fail—not just as a nation, but as Christians who are called to love our neighbor as ourselves.

Charlie was 31 years old. He should be alive today, returning home to his family after another event in which he was doing what he always did—engaging people. Instead, his life was stolen in an act of violence that targeted more than one man. It targeted the very heart of what makes a free society possible.

This is not a time for hedging words. Political violence is evil. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, the intentional taking of an innocent life is a grave evil (CCC 2258). If we allow ourselves to grow numb to it—or worse, to justify it—we lose more than one voice. We lose the fabric that holds this country together and the moral compass that guides us towards the common good.

As Christians, we cannot let hatred and violence be the legacy of this moment. We are called to stand for truth, yes—but also to stand for life, peace, and love. That doesn’t mean silence in the face of evil. It means speaking with courage, acting with conviction, and refusing to surrender to bitterness.

We look to the example of Christ, who taught us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44).

Charlie’s death is a wound on this country. But it can also be a turning point—if we let it drive us back to God, back to one another, and back to the kind of dialogue that sees people first as human beings, not as enemies. Let us remember the words of St. Paul: "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good" (Romans 12:21).

We owe that not only to Charlie, but to his wife, his children, and the generations who will inherit what we choose to build from here. May his memory inspire us to seek justice and reconciliation in a world so deeply in need of Christ’s love and peace.