When I think of Charlie Kirk, I don’t first think of him as a “conservative activist,” or a “political commentator,” or any other label pinned on him. Those content with such labels were usually the ones who neither knew him nor understood him, and whose familiarity with the man himself was shallow at best. They were usually speaking from the wrong generation, or from a pietistic form of Christianity with little appetite for engaging the pressing cultural issues of our time.
So then, let me begin here. I had the privilege of working with Charlie. And in what follows I want to share a few reflections of the man I came to know and love.
In a recent interview, he said the one thing he most desired to be remembered for most was “courage for my faith.” That was Charlie. And that is why he left such a deep mark on those who knew him and especially on the young. And this is why those of us who had the joy of working alongside him loved to be in the battle with him.
Charlie was an evangelist, an apologist, a shepherd, and, yes, a prophet (think William Perkins).[1] The prophets in the Old and New Testaments were God’s messengers who called His people back to obedience to His commands. And that is the job of those who speak God’s Word today. Prophets stood outside the temple walls, even in the wilderness (think John the Baptist).
1. In his classic work on preaching, William Perkins says that “Preaching the Word is prophesying in the name and on behalf of Christ” (William Perkins, The Art of Prophesying [London: Printed by Felix Kingston for Edward White, 1606], 4.)
Similarly, Charlie went into the wilderness of politics and campus life and he urged Christians to do the same. Shaping culture as salt and light in their communities, he challenged Christians to step into civic life, and not retreat from it. For him, the Great Commission meant nothing less than discipling the nations by bringing every sphere of life, including politics, culture, and education under the lordship of Christ.
Just the same, it meant engaging those with different worldviews with courage and conviction, even as he ordered his own life with Christian love.
Courage with Conviction
We can all recognize that Charlie lived with courage. Many his age fight battles and flex for Instagram likes, but he had the courage to stand his ground when the mob howled. Most importantly, his courage sprang from his theology—the settled conviction that Jesus Christ is Lord over every square inch of creation. And what is so noticeable is that unlike Reformed leaders who hang Kuyper’s line on the wall of their well-appointed study, Charlie took Christ’s universal authority as marching orders. And then he marched.
What gave Charlie his backbone was not ego but conviction. He wasn’t just “conservative” for the sake of nostalgia, as though his mission were simply to conserve khakis and country clubs. Read Genesis 1 and Revelation 22 and you will recognize that Charlie’s themes had to do with the created order revealed in the beginning and in the new creation coming at the end.
While pulpits across the country went soft or silent on matters related to sexual ethics, young people were running to Jordan Peterson, Matt Walsh, and others to learn what a man or a woman is. Seeing this, Charlie understood that there was and is no greater evangelistic opportunity in our day than to speak clearly about Genesis 1 creational realities—doctrines that carry through the whole of Scripture. He said that what young people are asking of their pastors is to make sense both of the world they are living in and the real world they face daily. He knew it, he said it, and his evangelistic fruit proved it. So, his conservatism was undeniably Christian, as it had to do with guarding the foundations of life and the good deposit that has been entrusted to us.
Accordingly, Charlie was never impressed by “thirdwayism.” You know the line: “I didn’t agree with him about this or that, but …” That tired disclaimer belongs to the nervous middle, not to those who know the times.
Charlie often said he wasn’t a theologian. But in truth, he lived and spoke like one, as his speech dealt with ontology (the study of being), teleology (the study of purpose), and the hope of eternity. Gearing his language and terms to his own generation, he understood what many trained theologians have forgotten—that theology is the Queen of the Sciences. He refused to treat God’s Word as a private comfort or a devotional keepsake. Biblical truth is, and always will be, a public truth—truth by which every realm of life must be ordered. Education, politics, culture, science, and everything in between. Charlie believed that Christ was Lord over all of it, and he acted like it.
For all of these reasons, which were amplified by his social media content, he stood out because he saw clearly, spoke loudly, and stood firmly on these things. In a time when Christians, even Christian leaders, specialize in studied ignorance and mumbling rhetoric, he didn’t. And in doing so, he gave courage to others.
He often said that his calling was “to equip and strengthen the church” and to help Christians “fight for liberty, which is God’s idea, not man’s.” Along the way, he aimed to help students think biblically, speak confidently, and stand firmly under pressure. For Charlie, this was part of the gospel’s public witness. This is the same gospel that once stirred Wilberforce in England and the abolitionists in America to confront the evils of their day.
Charlie understood that if you confess Christ before men, you will not be invited to cocktail parties at the globalist Aspen Institute or Davos. He knew the cost of courage. And today, his life and death are now teaching that lesson to us afresh.
To speak clearly on the issues of male and female, sex and gender, abortion, or any other issue “political” issue is to invite labels like “controversialist,” “provocateur,” or worse. And to do so with explicit reference to Christ’s Lordship is to be smeared as a “Christian nationalist,” “fascist,” or whatever epithet the spirit of the age happens to reach for.
In the face of such name-calling, however, Charlie reminded us that Scripture does not flatter the timid. “The cowardly,” Revelation 21:8 reminds us, “will have their place in the lake of fire.” And so he at times modeled a holy brashness that would give others courage and scandalize the right people. He knew the cost of that courage, and yet he kept showing up with his Bible, his microphone, and his good humor intact.
Ordered Loves: Love of God, Family, Neighbor and Country
If courage marked his public witness, patience and kindness marked his personal dealings. When I think of Charlie, I think of someone who loved others really, really well. Yes, loving what is good demands hating what is evil, but it also means loving what is good. And Charlie loved really well.
His good friend, Vice President J.D. Vance, recently spoke about the right “order of loves”—God first, then family, then neighbor, then community, then fellow citizens, and only then the wider world. That is Augustine’s ordo amoris, straight up. Some folks might be tempted to wonder who to credit for that insight. But that moral compass didn’t come from Trump Tower or Mar-a-Lago; it came from Charlie. Vance caught it because Charlie spoke of it repeatedly and, more importantly, he lived it. If you do not love your family, you are twisted. If you do not love your country, you are malformed. That is not nationalism run amok—that’s love with its priorities straight.
Charlie was someone who was growing in grace and godliness. Many heard his widow, Erika, speak of Charlie, saying he was the perfect husband. This isn’t because he was sinless. It was because he was Christ-like and loved her like Christ loved the church. She said “Everyday he would ask me, ‘How can I serve you better? How can I be a better husband? How can I be a better father?’ He was a such a good man.”
But this Christ-likeness and love of others extended to all those around him. My first time meeting Charlie face-to-face was a few weeks after I had been hired at Turning Point USA. At our Director’s Retreat, Charlie walked up, greeted me, and sat down to eat dinner next to me. He immediately asked me a weighty question about the church, and for thirty minutes we dug into it together. Our Chief Education Officer, Hutz Hertzberg, remarked to me a few days ago, “It was like you two were old friends!” What struck me about Charlie, brilliant as he was, was how quickly he listened. He was eager to ask questions and open to learn from those on his team.
What also struck me was that Charlie did treat me as an old friend. I came away from that conversation thinking that he was a man cut from the same rough cloth, someone willing to sandpaper the anti-Christian zeitgeist without apology. And he cared deeply about those he met.
If you’ve been listening to the testimonies about Charlie Kirk, you’ve probably heard a lot of people say the same thing. I heard one college chapter leader recall that at a TPUSA Summit that Charlie somehow managed to sit with all 500 students, shake their hands, and get to know them. I don’t know how that was humanly possible, but I have no doubt that each of them walked away believing it was true. And that explains why so many of us love Charlie. He loved those he knew really well.
This past week I have heard so many stories of lives touched and changed by Charlie. My daughter just started her freshman year of college, and a close friend of hers came to Christ in part through Charlie’s videos. This young lady didn’t grow up in a Christian home—her mother passed away when she was just ten, and her father is not a believer. Yet, when I met her and watched the way she cared for her younger sister, I could see it clearly: she was discipling her in the Lord, stepping into the role of both sister and spiritual mother.
A friend who moved to Kuwait as a missionary in recent months passed on that every one of his students has been impacted by Charlie’s videos. Chloe Cole, a young woman who is known for de-transitioning, has told me of Charlie’s kindness to her. She’s said “There are so many in politics that pull the ladder up behind them. Charlie . . . he cared immensely about everyone he ever touched. I have never witnessed a heart so big.” Stories like hers now seem almost as countless as the multitudes who filled the streets, parks and campuses to remember him.
But here is where Charlie surprised many of his critics. For all his verbal ferocity, he had genuine love for people—even for those who hated him. He wanted to win arguments, yes—but not because he wanted to notch scalps on his belt. He wanted to change hearts. So when he debated, confronted, or dismantled an opponent, his aim was evangelistic. He was interested in crushing lies, not people. He was interested in winning the lost and seeing them won to Christ. And this, I believe, is why so many young people flocked to hear him. He radiated the love of Christ and the conviction that people matter. He knew that souls were at stake because ideas have consequences. And this knowledge animated the movement he founded, his mission on college campuses. And those who gathered to hear him—or fight him—could sense his genuine care for them.
Hope Beyond the Grave
Let me not end with sorrow. For we do not grieve as those who have no hope.
In truth, I will miss Charlie terribly. But the Christ that Charlie confessed is the Christ who conquered death. Charlie fought the good fight, he finished the race, and he kept the faith. Henceforth, there is laid up for him a crown of righteousness. And because Christ is risen, we know that he is present with his Lord, even as he is absent from us. And more, knowing that the resurrection is coming, we know we who are in Christ will see Charlie again—whole, restored, and more alive than he ever was here.
Indeed, this is the hope of every believer. And this is a hope that oozed out of Charlie’s life, as evident by just a few recent posts on X.
On August 17th, 2025, Charlie Kirk posted on X (formerly Twitter):
“It’s all about Jesus.”
“Tell someone about Jesus this weekend.”
“Jesus defeated death so you can live.”
And a few days earlier, on September 3, 2025, he posted:
“There is revival in the Christian church. Churches are growing. Young people are flocking to faith in God.”
So, I do not end this tribute to Charlie in despair, but in hope.
What God is stirring in this generation is bigger than any one man, and yet it bears the mark of Charlie’s faithfulness. I believe we are standing at a true turning point—a moment when the Lord Jesus is reviving His church, raising up the young, and calling us all to repentance. I do not know what God is doing in our time, but I know this: His kingdom will prevail. We know the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church, and what we are witnessing with our own eyes bears that same pattern.
In this way, we know that Charlie’s life was not wasted. And neither was his death. Because Jesus Christ reigns, he is working—and he will work—all things for the good of those who love Christ. The question is: do you love Christ? And do you know the Lord whom Charlie served?
Everything good that you see in Charlie came from his Lord, and the same is available for you, if you trust in Christ. Let Charlie’s loss be a turning point for you. And let his faithful example and words, spur you on: “Jesus defeated death so you can live.” This was Charlie’s hope. May it be all of ours, too.
