I did not know Charlie Kirk.
Until recently, I wasn’t too familiar with much of his work, seeing it only in brief clips on Instagram or X.
But in the wake of his assassination, I began to dig into him. YouTube and its algorithm took the hint and began feeding me video after video. The more I watched, the more impressed I became with a 31-year-old with astounding precocity. He was sharp. Quick on his feet. Possessing a mind so brilliant he opted not to pursue higher education and instead launched his business, Turning Point USA, soon becoming one of the more influential conservatives in the United States. He’d intentionally wade into territory populated by those with opposing viewpoints and converse, debate, educate, even befriend. He’d do this nimbly, respectfully, with wit and charm and an astonishing level of recall of history, both historical and Biblical. I didn’t agree with everything he said, and if I watch and read more, I’m sure there will be more along these lines, but the manner in which he communicated it was a staggering shift from the bombastic, provocative nature of influential figures on both sides of the religious and political aisle. He was nonviolent and indeed discouraged violence, choosing instead the platform of this country’s founding fathers: free speech, and the staunch defense of it.
And then the man who built a platform of hundreds of millions on the premise of having conversations was killed for exactly that.
The more videos I watched, from Theo Von to Chadd Wright and everyone in between, and stories I read, the more it called to mind a seminal, if not brief, figure from the Bible: Stephen.
He’s only known by his first name, and not a lot else is gleaned about him from the two chapters he appears, in Acts 6 and 7. In the wake of Jesus’ death, the disciples needed to expand their number, choosing “seven men from among you who are known to be full of the Spirit and wisdom… They chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit.”
In verse 8, Stephen is described as “a man full of God’s grace and power” who “did great wonders and miraculous signs among the people. Opposition arose, however, from members of the Synagogue of the Freedmen… These men began to argue with Stephen, but they could not stand up against his wisdom or the Spirit by whom he spoke.”
Sound familiar?
Eventually, Stephen was brought forth before the Sanhedrin, and he delivers, in Chapter 7, a powerful speech, and “when they heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.’”
He was subsequently dragged and stoned, his final words being “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
A nonviolent man killed for nonviolent words, preaching what he saw as the right way to live.
When I began to make the parallel between Charlie Kirk and Stephen, the more entwined the stories seemed to be, for Stephen’s greatest impact was felt not in his life, but what came after. There was one man in particular who was there that day, lobbing stones at Stephen, who would irreversibly impact Christianity as we know it.
His name was Saul.
One chapter later, he would become known as Paul.
Paul would go on to become one of Christ’s most fervent and prolific followers, authoring 13 of the 27 books in the New Testament.
I know of no Saul to Paul conversion yet following Kirk’s death, but the reaction has been a tidal wave, an outpouring of grace and confessions of faith and a doubling down on Kirk’s work. This flies in the face of the thousands celebrating the death of an innocent man and one viral video in which the speaker, a young woman, says that “the best part of this whole thing is that he is not martyr material. His death will mean nothing. It will activate no one. It will impact few.”
And then the internet exploded with the Best of Charlie Kirk videos. They have surfaced on every platform I know of, from traditional news media to massive upstarts on Substack such as The Free Press to YouTube to Instagram and everywhere else. Views of those videos, and tributes of him, I’d have to wager are in the hundreds of millions, if not more.
“The older brother for an entire generation of conservatives was just murdered in front of their faces,” Nick Freitas, a member of the Virginia House of Delegates, said to his 1.7 million followers on Instagram. “He was the sort of guy that defended tens of thousands of students that felt slandered, maligned and threatened. Charlie was the guy that showed up for them… Charlie made future leaders. So we don’t care if you don’t see him as a martyr. You’re going to learn the hard way that he absolutely was.”
Freitas has thus far been prophetic. Prior to Kirk’s death, there were 900 chapters of Turning Point USA on college campuses. In the past 48 hours, there have been 32,000 inquiries to launch new ones.
It is an impact not dissimilar to the one Stephen made thousands of years before him. Philip traveled to Samaria and converted crowds, “so there was great joy in that city.” A sorcerer named Simon came around. So did a eunuch in Ethiopia. Then came Saul, and nearly half of the book that would become the basis for modern Christianity – the New Testament – would be written.
It is far too early to tell what sort of ripple effect, and how large, Charlie Kirk’s death will have on his movement. But his wife, Erika, a mother of two young children, has already said “I refuse to let the movement Charlie built die. It will only grow – stronger, bolder, louder.”
Just as Christianity did after Stephen.