On Bad Things, Charlie Kirk, and Trumpets

A week of blood. A week of loss. A gruesome stabbing, a school shooting, an assassination. It is hard to know what to say in the aftermath of such events. I have seen everything from grief to tasteless remarks to outright celebration.

There is still the tragedy of the Texas flooding from a few months ago, the California wildfires, the devastating floods in the southeast last fall–they all feel like they were lifetime ago.

9/11’s anniversary was also this week. It’s a date that I will never be able to live through without feeling a wave of deep sadness, and if I’m honest, probably a little anger still too. There’s war in Europe, war in the Middle East, radical violence and oppression ripping through every country too small to make our headlines.

Most of us simply agree, the hate must stop.

“And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.”

Matthew 24:12

Charlie Kirk is already remembered as a man who loved the Lord and stood proudly for Christian values. Whether you agree with him or not, his legacy is an inspiration. He was a modern example of how a person can advocate for change and lead a movement with free speech and wisdom, instead of with violence and baseless hate.

But let’s be clear. Charlie Kirk was not hunted down and taken out because he loved Jesus. You can love Jesus without embracing a single thing Kirk did. He was murdered because he lived marked by God’s law. He proclaimed the wisdom of the Torah, built his life and family on its values, and stood with the people it was given to—inviting anyone into a conversation about it. In his own style, Kirk echoed exactly what Jesus warned of: when Torah is cast aside, lawlessness grows.

When Jesus said, “lawlessness will increase,” he wasn’t speaking in a vacuum. He wasn’t talking about western laws or some vague Americanized moral code. He was talking about Torah-lessness—the specific value system given in the opening scrolls of Scripture. Jesus believed that when life, family, and entire cultures are devoid and divested from the wisdom of the Torah, hate grows. Schools become graveyards. Buses and trains, a terror in the night. Public squares, arenas of fear.

Kirk’s death was more than an assassination. You may not agree with his politics. You may not have liked his style. But his death was more than political violence. It was a witness.

He did not die for empty slogans or political gain. He died because he bore witness to what God is doing in the world. He clung to the wisdom of God’s standard and refused to apologize for his testimony of Jesus the Messiah.

That is more than legacy. It’s a trumpet blast. His death cuts through our grief, through our numbness, through the noise of hate. It declares that God’s justice is coming quickly, and that there is still time to return to him.

The Feast of Trumpets, also known as Rosh Hashanah, begins in a week. It is the day when Israel would blast the shofar, calling God’s people together and reminding them that his judgement is coming.

But the trumpets are not the sound of impending punishment from an angry God. They’re the sound of restoration. They signal that there is still time to come back and return to the Lord. To make right what we have done wrong. To seek him with all our hearts and minds. To love his wisdom. To love his Torah. To love our neighbor. To be made clean and draw near with pure hearts sprinkled clean by the blood of our Great High Priest, the one who bears the Name of the Most High God.

At the core, this is what Charlie Kirk preached. And he was hated for it.

‏“Then they will…put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations for my name’s sake.”

Matthew 24:9

Cities rage, graves multiply, and hearts grow cold. Yet the promise still stands: those who endure to the end, who cling to God’s standards, proclaim his kingdom, and submit to his Messiah, they will be saved.

The bruises of this week bleed: the school hallways, the train, the stage, the New York skyline without the towers. These are devastating events—ones we mourn, lament, and still weep over, even years later. But they do not need to remain only sorrows.

Over the tidal wave of hate comes another sound—the voice of the trumpet, a summons to the great return. God is calling us to come back, to draw near once again.

The question is do we hear it?

It’s call is clear, friends. Repent. Return. The kingdom is at hand.

May God have mercy on innocent lives lost this week, and every week. May he be near to the broken-hearted. And may his justice and peace come quickly.