Charlie Kirk, Prophet
Charlie Kirk and I never met. I have seen more of him since his brutal assassination yesterday than before that awful event. But I am struck by how much he resembles the prophets of the Old Testament, known by some as the Tanakh.
A month or so ago, a fellow MFA classmate challenged me to read the Bible cover to cover in narrative non-fiction form. (A typical Marine, she motivated me by telling me I couldn’t handle it.) Her pursuit was to have me learn the place and role of women in the Old Testament and to see with new eyes that today some places still resemble the Old Testament time when women were literally not counted.
What I have gained is a sort of conversion. Story after story shows a nation that under one king turns to God, and then next turns to evil. Back-and-forth until they are destroyed and hauled off captive to Babylon.
Through it all, the prophets unwaveringly speak truth in the most pivotal, and dangerous, moments, even when they know they may face certain death. They stand before the king and the people, deliver God’s message, and await their sentence. I imagine them wondering each time if this will be the last straw.
I always pictured prophets as old men with beards and walking sticks. Yesterday I saw a prophet, a young man of 31, gathering crowds as if on the plains of a middle eastern desert, delivering a message he believed he was commissioned by God to give the rest of us, especially his generation. Fearless despite the odds. Courageous.
But his fearlessness and truth-telling are not what really struck me about Charlie Kirk. Like the prophets of old, he could only do his work because he loved those who disagreed with him. He believed he was passing on a gift, difficult as it was to receive, to save the nation. While the bullet that killed him came from one who hated him, it was evident from public appearances and private interviews that Charlie did not reciprocate that hate. I assume he knew some would never agree, just as the ancient kings found God’s word incompatible with their own political aims. Just as the people found it an intolerable affront to their lifestyles worshipping other gods.
And that leaves the rest of us to pull the lessons we can from this national tragedy. Today, the daily Mass readings in the Roman Catholic Church aligned well with the 9/11 tragedy 24 years ago. They also speak directly to what we need now. Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you.
My mother called me the eternal optimist. I do believe that a profound change has already come to our nation, and that Charlie’s death will not be in vain. Certainly, justice must be done, and the killer held accountable. My hope is that Charlie’s death, and his life, will embolden more prophets who truly love their enemies, to go to great lengths to engage others in the pursuit of the truth and that good which is common to all.
Charlie Kirk loved this country and encouraged all of us to remember how precious and how fragile it is. He was much younger than I, but I remember my own zeal at 17 when I joined the Navy with fervent conviction. Today, I try to imbue that patriotism in my teenage daughters.
If Charlie Kirk is a prophet, I hope he is a prophet who reminds us to love God, family, and country. This legacy he achieved in his too-young a life. If we Americans turn now to tend our own family and neighbors with zeal, this tragic moment can be a turning point for the better, whether or not we agree with one another.
Susan Yoshihara is founder and president of American Council on Women, Peace and Security