Yesterday, Charlie Kirk—a thirty-one-year-old American conservative Christian, husband, and father of two young children—was assassinated while participating in a public debate at the University of Utah. He was a man unashamed of the Gospel, allowing the truth of Christ to shape both his public witness and private life. His death comes only a day after the brutal murder of Iryna Zarutska, a twenty-three-year-old Ukrainian refugee who had fled the war between Russia and Ukraine. She was killed by a man who, by any sane standard, should have been in custody, but had been repeatedly released. Yet perhaps the deepest tragedy was the moral vacuum of those nearby: like the priest and the Levite in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan, they turned away from a dying woman. In her case there was no Samaritan—at least not before she drew her last breath. Kirk had tweeted about her murder, lamenting that America would never be the same. His words, sadly, proved prophetic.
Kirk was often caricatured by Canadian and American media as “divisive,” but in reality he was exercising his constitutional right to free speech, defending truths increasingly marginalized in our cultural moment. Though called “far right” by his critics, his convictions were neither extreme nor novel. They were biblical. He upheld the authority of Scripture, spoke for the unborn, defended the family as God designed it, affirmed the dignity of mankind, and championed moral clarity where confusion now reigns. While many Christians retreated into quiet enclaves, seeking peace at the expense of truth, Kirk stepped forward. And unlike so many public figures, he practiced what he preached. He was a devoted husband, a loving father, and he placed his family before his public platform. Such faithfulness is what the world often finds most offensive, because it points beyond itself to God and His law.
The murders of Iryna Zarutska and Charlie Kirk were carried out by different individuals with different motives, yet both stand as indictments of our cultural moment. One was an act of black-on-white violence, a manifestation of racial supremacism that our cultural elites dare not name. The other appears to have been driven by explicitly anti-fascist and progressive sentiment—one of the shell casings bore the inscription “Hey fascist, catch,” echoing the rhetoric of militant left-wing movements. Both are symptoms of the same progressive, “woke” worldview that has eroded moral boundaries, inverted justice, and weaponized identity. These are not isolated incidents; they are the bitter fruit of a society that celebrates transgression while despising transcendent truth. In our culture, wickedness prospers. As Scott Masson, professor at Tyndale University and associate for Christian pedagogy with the Cántaro Institute, observed:
The problem that Charlie Kirk was confronting was the institutionalized wickedness of a demonically false view of language and human nature that has embedded itself in the university for at least a generation.
According to the left, [the] words [that] they dislike are violence (they don’t incite violence, they ARE violence), which is precisely what permits them (in their minds) to commit actual violence against their opponents.
I saw Charlie Kirk as an ambassador to the radicalized university campuses. And the ambassador has been assassinated.
But the enemy is not flesh and blood (though the shooter needs to be caught and brought to justice), it’s the literary theories that preclude the possibility of the sort of dialogue Charlie Kirk was trying to foster, to no small degree of success.[1]
How can we make sense of this? For the uninitiated it seems bewildering, even chaotic. That confusion is intentional. You cannot defeat an enemy you do not understand. What we are facing is nothing less than cultural Marxism—the Marxist war of the classes transposed from economics to identity. It is no longer proletariat versus bourgeoisie; it is black versus white, queer versus heterosexual, liberal versus conservative, woke versus Christian—an endless multiplication of categories, some labeled “oppressor” and others “oppressed.” The aim is not reconciliation, but perpetual reversal: always an oppressor, always the oppressed.
It is ironic that those who accuse conservatives and Christians of being coercive for defending God’s created order wield coercion themselves—using intimidation, public shaming, and even violence to silence their opposition. Consider the response to Iryna’s death: silence, because it does not fit the narrative. Had the killer been white and the victim black, the outcry would have matched that of George Floyd. Consider the response to Kirk’s death: videos of people laughing, mocking, celebrating, taunting. This is evil. And only the Gospel can answer it. That is why we need more Christians in the public square, not fewer—more witnesses pushing back against the tide of cultural Marxism, more churches awake to the reality of what we face. Culture has sunk this far because too many of us have retreated from the field. But this is not a game; it is the arena of worldviews, and our withdrawal has stunted our witness and our mission.
So what should we say in response to what we have seen? We must first recognize the battle lines clearly. We are not wrestling against flesh and blood but against principalities, powers, and spiritual darkness. We must call sin by its name, confront false ideologies with truth, and re-enter the public square as salt and light. And we must do so with courage, conviction, and charity—not abandoning the field, but standing firm with the full Gospel that speaks to every sphere of life.
As we reflect on these things, we must be alert to the full ramifications of what has transpired. Kirk’s death was not merely a political assassination; it was an attack on a worldview, on a witness, on a way of life grounded in Scripture and lived out with courage. It was meant as a warning, a silencing, a public spectacle to intimidate others who dare to speak. As Masson notes:
Charlie was a martyr to the truth, and he pointed directly to Jesus Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life.[2]
His words remind us that this is not simply about one man or one moment. It is about the collision of two rival visions of reality — one grounded in the sovereignty of God and the dignity of mankind, the other built on power, resentment, and the will to dominate. Masson goes on to say:
I’m thankful for Charlie’s courageous life and witness. May his death be the ‘turning point’ for many to follow in his Master’s footsteps.[3]
Thank you, Lord, for the life and witness of Charlie Kirk. May You bring swift justice upon his murderer and upon the murderer of Iryna. Where evil erupts, justice must be quickly administered; righteousness must prevail.
We may ask, “Now what? How do we navigate the cultural road ahead?” The answer is not retreat, but resolve. Far from shrinking back, we must imitate Kirk’s courage, pressing forward to engage our fallen culture with truth and grace. We must testify to the truth and be unashamed of it, knowing that those who are in Christ are called to be salt and light—pushing back decay and rot, preserving what is good in God’s world, and proclaiming the Gospel that alone saves and redeems.
This is no privatized, pietistic, or monastic gospel, withdrawn from the public square. It is the whole Gospel of Scripture, the comprehensive, transforming, and authoritative Gospel, addressing every sphere of life and summoning the nations to repentance and faith. The Kingdom of God on earth is not merely a future hope but a present reality breaking into history, confronting idols, and calling mankind to bow before Christ’s lordship. In such a time as this, Christians must not lose heart. We are stewards of the truth, heralds of the King, and our task is to stand firm, to pray, to speak, to act, and to trust God for the outcome—for the eventual triumph of the Gospel.
[1] Scott Masson, Facebook. Accessed September 11, 2025, https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10225049690384256&set=a.4225764857205/.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.