The assassination of Charlie Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA and conservative icon, is the grim manifestation of a nation that has forgotten its essential democratic principles: not only freedom of speech and discourse — for which Kirk was killed — but the deeper moral command to love one’s neighbor and, more importantly, one’s enemy.
In truth, America has lost its identity of being a “moral and religious people,” as John Adams once deemed necessary for citizens to cherish the U.S. Constitution. This reality reared its sadistic (or Satanic) head in the ghoulish glee of those celebrating Kirk’s murder.
Thankfully, many Americans across the political spectrum expressed horror and sorrow over his death during an event at Utah Valley University on Sept. 10. Yet the radical Left’s surging bloodlust is not the first time Americans have indulged fantasies of violence against ideological opponents — and it will not be the last unless the nation rediscovers its moral compass and the shared inalienable rights endowed to us by God.
The murder has exposed a nation adrift, desperate for answers on how to confront rampant polarization and strive for peace. Providentially, the following day (Sept. 11), the Gospel reading at Catholic Mass provided the solution plaguing modern America:
“Jesus said to his disciples: ‘To you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. To the person who strikes you on one cheek, offer the other one as well. …For if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them.’”
What does it mean to love your enemy? And what does it mean to love? To borrow the Thomistic definition, love is willing the good of the other. Love is not passive approval or blind affirmation — quite the contrary. It is a challenge: a call to a higher purpose and sacrifice for your family, friends, neighbor, and community. For Christ, love meant death on a cross, even for those who called for His execution.
This command to love one’s “enemy” is still revolutionary. Throughout human history, and in the ancient world, the strong ruling over the weak was considered virtuous, and enslavement was commonplace. Yet Christ shatters that illusion of conquest and degradation, declaring instead to “love your enemies and do good to them.”
This principle is not only theological but civic. To love our “enemy” — our fellow citizens — is vital to sustain a democratic republic. No doubt, there is an ideological, philosophical, and political tug-of-war of diametrically opposed ideas. Even within movements, no two people think exactly alike because of the human soul’s singularity. Indeed, the Constitution and the Founding Fathers recognized this truth, providing the parameters for nonviolent public discourse among different factions, as James Madison identified, which draws upon the Judeo-Christian tradition. Throughout his career, Kirk exemplified this principle by engaging progressives on college campuses, seeing how silos stoke animosity, as he once stated:
“When people stop talking, that’s when you get violence. …that’s when civil war happens, because you start to think the other side is so evil and they lose their humanity.”
Failing to recognize the inherent dignity of others — especially those to whom we disagree — robs them of the sacred truths enshrined in our nation’s moral fabric. That theft has left us divided, thus our present crisis. The rift is so wide that eight-in-ten U.S. adults cannot agree on “basic facts,” according to a July Pew Research Center survey.
Why have we forgotten to love our “enemy”? The foremost reason is America’s decline in religious faith. Since the new millennium, fewer Americans are praying. Church attendance has largely declined over the years. And though the rise in religious unaffiliates — or “nones” — has slowed, 29% of Americans still identify as such. Coupled with the influence of New Atheists, poor catechesis, mass apostasy, and a laxity in spiritual rigor, America has become rife with social pathologies, such as anxiety, depression, isolation, and violence.
Indeed, the human soul is restless detached from God, the source of life and meaning. Nothing can replace Him.
Religiosity has been a prime driver of philanthropy and community involvement. Conversely, non-religious citizens are less inclined to be civically engaged as opposed to their devout counterparts. However, since the pandemic, volunteerism overall has dramatically declined,
Yet philanthropic causes present opportunities for people to shirk political affilation in the pursuit of the common good. As churches close and civic associations shutter, Americans, then, are less likely to “encounter neighbors or coworkers of divergent views in everyday activities,” as John McGinnis emphasized in Law & Liberty. Localism and cross-party collaboration, and interaction devoid of politics, has been steadily eroding. And politics has filled that void, thus identity politics has become our identities — and any disagreement, therefore, is more personal and existential.
Coinciding with these trends is the diminished respect for life itself, which traces to Roe v. Wade, and abortion and euthanasia. The prescient St. Teresa of Calcutta summarized the cavalcade of ramifications, telling a crowd at the National Prayer Breakfast in 1994, that “if we accept that a mother can kill even her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another?”
There are certainly more reasons for how we, as a nation, have arrived at Kirk’s death on Sept. 10. Social media has poured fuel on the fire, amplifying outrage and division. And the pandemic only deepened isolation and hostility. Together, these forces have accelerated the unraveling of a people no longer formed by shared faith and moral discipline. But a Constitution designed for a “moral and religious people” cannot survive if its citizens abandon the principles enshrined in a governmental framework meant for those people.
In truth, America stands on the brink of a post-Constitutional age if it jettisons faith, regardless of denomination. Though the Left has been wary of a rise in Christian nationalism, the reality is Christians — and a religious people — founded the modern United States. The country’s laws are influenced by a Judeo-Christian worldview: that every person is endowed with an inherent dignity, with equal protections under the law. Indeed, the First Amendment begins by protecting the religious liberty of all faiths, stating, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” (Kirk was criticized as a Christian nationalist, among other -ists, no doubt, which partially convinced the assassin to kill him.)
In effect, with less religious attendance, especially among Christians, how can one absorb Christ’s teachings to “love your enemy”? Without opportunities to volunteer and collaborate, how could one not only see a political opponent — or an enemy — as an obstacle to achieving political utopia?
Christ is the way, the truth, and the life — and after Kirk’s murder, His words are urgent and convicting. For the nation to heal, we must rediscover and recommit ourselves to being a “moral and religious people”; to reengage in civic life; and to cordially debate in the public square as is everyone’s inalienable right. Otherwise, we are doomed to continue this vicious cycle of political violence, dehumanization, and failing to recognize each other’s inherent dignity.
Kirk tried to embody this love in life. To see his political opponents not as enemies, but as children of God. It’s imperative that we do likewise — because this, and only this love, rooted in Christ, will save our nation’s soul.
May Charlie Kirk rest in peace. May God watch over his family and loved ones. And may God bless America.
Andrew Fowler is the Editor of RealClearReligion. He is also the Communications Specialist at Yankee Institute and author of "The Condemned," a novella about a Catholic priest fighting off the cartel to save the residents of a small desert town (which you can find here).
