Reflections on the Kirk remembrance event (with a short concluding video)

What would St. John Cassian have said?

In Norway, the event in memory of Charlie Kirk, held in Arizona yesterday, was televised live, and – more out of curiosity than for any other reason – I viewed about two hours of it. A few posts ago, I confessed that I had never heard of Charlie Kirk before he was murdered, or, if I had, his name made no impression on me at the time. I have learned more about him since then. My impression of him now is that he was still a young man when he was killed, only 31. Although he was clearly intelligent (many of his views, as well as his comportment in debate, were above reproach), he nonetheless demonstrated his relative “youth” (I can’t think of a better word, although it’s a stretch to call a person of his age a “youth”) by sometimes expressing views that were not above reproach. At the very least, they lacked the discretion a more mature person would have exhibited, despite his desire to communicate essentially a message of grace. It’s not my intention to rehash any of his more dubious remarks, though; those are public knowledge. My reaction is to extremes (a theme in this post): the over-the-top lionization of the man publicly, which has been one extreme, has been matched by the over-the-top denunciation of him publicly, constituting the opposite extreme; and both extremes have occasionally verged on histrionics, reflecting the irrationality of our cultural impasse in America. Not being politically “right” or “left” myself, I see him simply as a bright young man, expressing views that ranged from sensible to extremist (and, intended or not, at least seemingly prejudiced), sometimes tripping over his own tongue (the problem with being an “influencer” who likes to debate is that one talks too much), and I regard his death as a tragedy. As I said, he was only 31. At nearly 70 myself, I can honestly say that I would hate anyone to judge my views today by the views I held and expressed when I was 31 (or 41, for that matter). To put it simply, my views have matured along with the rest of me, often through painful experience and increased self-awareness. Along with the latter, there comes a concomitant increase of empathy (a word that Kirk notoriously didn’t like, preferring “sympathy” instead), resulting in less bias and greater reticence in speech. Admittedly, contemplative practice fosters growth in maturity, and thus I can’t say that aging alone produces even a modicum of wisdom. I can say, however, that anyone whose life was cut short at 31 never had the opportunity to develop in thought, word, and deed. Kirk’s murderer is even younger – just 22 – and Erika Kirk, Charlie’s widow, was right to forgive him, as difficult as that must have been for her to do. The murderer is clearly a damaged person, entangled in the meshes of two extremist, mentally warping ideologies, and it would be a double tragedy if he were to be put to death. It would only mean that two young men were killed, instead of one, with no redeeming of the evil perpetrated for either. Given years to realize and regret what he has done and the impact his vicious act has had on others, who is to say that even a killer can’t change for the better? Christians, at least, should hold out hope for his metanoia, knowing it has happened countless times before. But I wish to turn my attention to the remembrance event in Arizona, which exemplified another, though related, kind of darkness.