I froze at the news that Charlie Kirk was assassinated on September 10 while he was giving a speech at Utah Valley University. Comments on the incident went into an uproar on media platforms like WeChat groups and WeChat Moments. Some write, "A defender of the truth martyred for the Lord." Others say, "This is the cross of our time." Yet, some simply put him on par with Jesus. Gazing at my phone screen, I have an unspeakable aversion, not doubting their sorrows, but that they speak up rather too quickly—before the facts can settle, the incident is attached with various personal interpretations.
A Genuine Person
The story of Charlie Kirk was never a single facet.
He founded Turning Point USA at only 19. It is an organization that significantly appeals to the American student body, devoted to urging conservative youths. He often said that universities were monopolized by left-wing ideology and that someone needed to break the mold. When he gave public speeches, he spoke at a high pace and had powerful body language as if to brighten up the entire auditorium with his words. Young people would applaud and cheer, seeing him as an icon who could speak for them.
In his teachings, he repeatedly advocated "free markets" and "small government," in which he warned against the so-called "cultural Marxism." He criticized affirmative action, claiming it creates a social atmosphere of "anti-white"; he said white Americans are being replaced, a "Great Replacement" rhetoric that thrills some and concerns many others.
On immigration, he adopted the word "invasion," reducing complex social phenomena to a threat; on Muslim issues, he warned that cultural values would be "destroyed." On LGBTQ issues, his stance was hardline, opposing transgender military service and denying gender fluidity.
During the pandemic, he even claimed that hydroxychloroquine was "100% effective" against COVID-19, a claim later debunked by the scientific community. He often posted unverified conspiracies, such as how NGOs are manipulating elections and how the media systemically "smear conservatives."
His expressions earned him two identities that coexist:
In the eyes of his followers, he was a courageous fighter, a young mentor who dared to challenge "political correctness."
To his critics, he was an agitator and even a liar.
Therefore, Kirk was complex: he had charisma as well as prejudice and courage, but also falsehood.
Tragedy and Psychology
Yet, the gunshots obscured these complex facets.
When facing trauma, humans are always eager for an explanation. In psychology, this is called projection: we project our emotions and needs onto the incidents to find comfort.
For many believers, Kirk's death caused a collective pain. He discussed faith publicly and frequently collaborated with church figures. In this context, it seems a natural reaction to interpret his death as "dying for the gospel."
Although such an interpretation is comforting, it intensifies me because when we too quickly categorize his death as a form of "martyrdom," we become unwilling to probe the complex reality. We prefer to use a sacred label to cover up details that might be uncomfortable.
The Speed of Dissemination
The logic of social media only accelerates this process.
If a person's death is merely an accidental tragedy, its reach will be limited. However, once it is narrated as "martyrdom," it will instantly promote sensation. Emotions are stirred up, the media's algorithmized notifications are accelerated, and groups are rapidly gathered.
In this propagation, Kirk is no longer the controversial, flawed, and sometimes mendacious public figure. He becomes a plain symbol: a sufferer of contemporary crucifixion.
Reading these shared posts, I recall a fact: historically, the stories of martyrs are indeed powerful. The blood of Stephen or the prayer of Polycarp—these testimonies have been passed down through generations, and they form a memory of the faith community. That is precisely why we find it easier to continue the similar narrative today.
However, the danger lies here too. The more we mythologize, the more we lose our sensitivity to the truth. A complex person, once narrated as a saint, may only blur us from the truth.
The Theological Propriety
The reason I am particularly cautious is also due to theological propriety.
The cross of Jesus is unique. It is not a death that can be replicated, but it is a complete salvation. A martyr is never meant to replace Jesus but to testify to Jesus.
If we equate the death of any person with that of Jesus, we are blurring the core of the faith. Kirk's death may remind us of the world's cruelty or prompt us to reflect on our faith, but it is no equivalent to salvation.
Jesus suffered from death because he claimed to be the Christ, stemming from a conflict between the truth and the religious and political establishments. There is, so far, no evidence that Kirk's death was directly related to his faith. To directly call him a person who "died for the gospel" is logically unsound.
What I Can Say
I can say that he was a courageous speaker.
I can say that his death is a tragedy.
I can say that his courage has ever given light to some youths.
However, I am unwilling to say that he was a martyr, much less that he was like Jesus, because this blurs not only the facts but also the uniqueness of faith.
Why I Insist?
Some might feel that my insistence seems cold, but for me, caution is precisely out of respect.
I respect his life, as he had brilliance, and he had flaws; he had passion, and he had falsehoods.
I respect the core of the faith because Jesus' cross cannot be replaced by anyone.
If we casually elevate a person to that position, we shift the focus of faith from Jesus to an idol. In the long run, this will only make multitudes more easily manipulated by emotions, and it will be harder for them to face reality.
Why This Stand?
As I write up to now, I still feel the heaviness of emotion. The loss of any life is not something to be casually talked about. Kirk's death is a brutal reality. His name will remain in the hearts of many.
Yet, I must still say: a martyr can only testify to Christ but cannot replace or become Christ. If we regard a person as Jesus, we will ultimately lose the real Jesus. The true power of faith lies not in producing the number of "modern martyrs," but in remembering that unique salvation.
Originally published by "Career Survival Guide"
- Translated by Charlie Li
