Candles Over Chaos

It has been nearly a week since the assassination of Charlie Kirk – nearly a week – and what have we seen from the conservative right and supporters of Kirk and his Turning Point USA organization? Only peaceful vigils and memorials across this entire nation. Read that one more time: peaceful vigils and memorials. It is moving to see people putting down their devices and instead picking up conversations, in person, like Charlie Kirk would have wanted.

Moments like these are the equivalent of breaking a clock at a historical event like many did centuries ago. Americans are constantly consumed by the daily noise of politics, the endless churn of social media outrage, and the ever-frustrating fixation on the next news cycle. But, when we find a way to come together and have a dialogue – even over something as tragic as Charlie Kirk’s assassination – then all those things seem to slip away, and we find them replaced by silence, sorrow, and reflection.

There is no doubt that high-profile events like this tragedy force us to face our own mortality, how truly fragile life is in a hateful world, and the fleeting nature of those things that are often taken for granted.

The murder of public figures can become a mirror for us to gaze into. Like any life-changing event, we often find ourselves compelled to ask: what are we doing with our days? Are we spending time serving as keyboard warriors, or are we growing closer to the family and friends who love us? Are we seeking nourishment from whichever God we pray to, or are we neglecting our spiritual wellbeing until crisis once again knocks on our door?

In a culture consumed and, by any measure, addicted to speed and stimulation, tragedy forces us to slow down. Even though candlelight vigils don’t trend on social media for extended periods of time, it often imprints a life-changing memory on those who attend them. Standing shoulder to shoulder, utter prayers together and lifting up the memory of those lost in song, strangers suddenly remember their shared humanity. Leaders of our religious institutions have their words echo off the walls of houses of worship, especially when they are heard in person, more than they ever could be in a viral post online.

Tragedy, and the ramifications that come with it, extends far beyond politics . . . they reach into the personal lives of many. For some, the loss of a high-profile figure is a much-needed spark to reconnect with a sibling, return to church, or finally shut off the television or computer and walk next door to check on a neighbor.

Unfortunately, we have no control over the evil that takes a life. But we can control what happens next in the sequence of events. We have the power to decide whether tragedy breeds bitterness or breeds revival. The sight of peaceful vigils in these last five days suggests a hunger for something deeper than rage. Perhaps, in our nation’s grief, we will also rediscover who we are meant to be.

To those of are affected by the loss of Charlie Kirk, do not let his tragedy be the end of the story, Instead, let it be the beginning of a different one – a story lit not by the fire of anger, but by the steady glow of candles in the darkness.