Reflections on Charlie Kirk’s Death

When Dana Perino announced Charlie Kirk’s passing on Fox News’ “The Five,” she seemed composed but tears streamed down her face. Her voice quivered as she called for what she described as a “circuit breaker.”

Her remarks were far from political. They spoke to a shared human experience. Many are feeling overwhelmed as the world seems to spiral further into chaos.

Hatred, it seems, has taken hold, unexpressed yet palpable in our politics, families, neighborhoods, and even places of worship. Anger simmers like a storm, waiting for something to ignite it. Perino wasn’t simply mourning; she was expressing a desire for relief from the constant storm of animosity.

But history tells us that there’s no easy fix. Many attempts at revolution or reform ultimately fall short. Resetting the circuit breaker doesn’t address the real issue—it’s not an overload in the system, it’s in the human heart.

Only humans have absorbed this overwhelming current of hate, often without expressing it. Jesus didn’t merely relieve tension—He bore the load Himself. The cross represents a significant interruption, where perfect love confronted all human fury.

Even Stephen, the first martyr, recognized this truth. When about to be stoned, he looked up to see Jesus by God’s side. His proclamation only fueled the fury of his executioners.

Truth can provoke deep-seated anger.

We often think of making Jesus the “Lord of our lives,” yet whether we acknowledge Him or not, He already holds that position. As stated in the Bible, “Every knee will bow…and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Philippians 2:10-11). Some submit willingly, while others may find themselves compelled by force (Revelation 19:15). Ultimately, everything will bow.

This suggests that hatred never truly dissipates. It lingers. As the light of Christ becomes more present, the darkness will fight back more fiercely.

King Théoden, in “Two Towers,” voiced a fear that resonates with many today.

Aragorn’s response was simple yet defiant: “Ride and meet them.”

Charlie Kirk embodied that spirit. He faced the storm without hesitation.

But, after all, Christ did the same. He entered the world brimming with hatred and took control of it. At the cross, He didn’t retreat; He shattered darkness’s grip forever.

Centuries later, Martin Luther stood firm against overwhelming odds, declaring, “Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me.”

He wasn’t afraid of the challenges ahead. When the storm encircled him, he gifted the church a hymn of defiance:

The bodies they might kill.
God’s truth is still protected.

Luther understood that hatred would persist but also knew it would not triumph. That’s the conviction we must hold onto.

We stand not with bravado, but with the scars of experience. We recognize the darkness but choose to focus on those who have absorbed the full brunt of the storm and remain unbroken.

He doesn’t just prevent the flow from harming us—He rewires the entire system. What may have been deteriorating is made new again. The one who died lives on, not merely as a circuit breaker but as the very essence of divine life flowing through all who belong to Him.

I’ve witnessed firsthand what unchecked hatred can do. It devours its target and the host alike, corroding from within. And it doesn’t cease on its own; hatred is insatiable and must be contained.

That containment has begun. The current is already disrupted, and the one who manages it reigns supreme. One day, we will too.

We mirror Christ, the great warrior who faced anger and ultimately conquered it at the cross.

Our response isn’t one of aggression but of trust and steadiness.

Lead on, King Eternal,
We do not fear, we do obey.
For a morning joy,
Where will Your face appear?
Your cross lifts us up.
We walk in that light.
The crown awaits conquest.
He guides us—yes, God.

Hatred endures. Charlie understood this.

But God’s truth remains safe.

And our King rides ahead of us.