Some of you may know this, but many may ... not.

I grew up in a right-wing, evangelical Christian home.

It was normal.

It was all I knew.

There was right, and there was wrong.

There was black, and there was white.

With no room for grey.

We didn’t get to listen to Guns n' Roses, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, or KISS (which, of course, allegedly stood for “Knights in Satan’s Service”). They were satanic, worldly, ungodly - full stop.

We did  however listen to Cliff Richard (Christian, thank God), the odd Beatles song (when it wasn’t too mystical), Simon & Garfunkel, a lot of Carman, some (pre-Yusuf) Cat Stevens, Johnny Cash plus some Phil Collins as a treat.

Anyway, that should set the scene.

I was hardline. Right-wing. Evangelical. Faith-filled. My Jesus was white. My politics were conservative patriotism with a cross. An old-school vision of faith where masculinity was forged in the fires of “real men don’t cry.”

And I believed that version with everything I had.

For years.

It formed me and much of my worldview.

Over time, I came to understand just how deeply that culture - the culture of militant masculinity, the kind that tied Jesus to nationalism and manhood to aggression - shaped me.

From Billy Graham’s big-tent revivals in the 1950s to Mark Driscoll’s Mars Hill in the early 2000s, with a sprinkle of Benny Hinn’s theatrics in between - it was all part of a larger narrative.

A narrative where power was godliness, and doubt was weakness. Where losing a culture war was tantamount to losing the Gospel. Where Jesus saves... but only if you’re on the “right” side of the aisle.

Ultimately, and quite gladly, my views have changed and become much less-hardline.

I still believe. I still care. I still have a faith.

So that brings us to today, when I heard the news that Charlie Kirk had been shot - and later confirmed dead - on the campus of Utah Valley University, my heart broke.

Now don’t worry, I’ve seen plenty of posts on social media about how outraged people are today.

I get it.

But I want to dig a little deeper.

In recent weeks, friends of mine, people I know well and have held close in the past, spent time with Charlie. This isn’t about ego, nor an attempt to claim proximity.

I’m not saying, “a famous person has passed, and that affects me.”

What I’m saying is that some of my friends truly knew him. And that is a difficult and deeply sobering thing to sit with.

This matters deeply.

Not because I agreed with everything he said - I didn’t.

Not because his vision of America matches mine - it doesn’t.

But because a human being, a husband, a father, and yes, a Christian in the broadest sense, was assassinated in a political act of hatred.

A shot fired in violence, from a distance, into a crowd.

A life ended in public, while speaking.

No motive is confirmed.

No suspect is in custody.

But what is clear is that this was an act of evil. And from a human point of view - that matters deeply.

Justice and the Value of Humanity

Jewish rabbis taught that to take one life is to destroy an entire world. Because every person contains within them the potential of generations. Their soul is precious. Their presence, sacred.

Judaism also teaches that we’re not just responsible for our actions - but for the climate we allow to grow around us. When we tolerate hatred, mockery, and the public celebration of another’s suffering, we become complicit.

And that brings us to this moment.

Yes, Charlie Kirk was controversial.

Yes, he stirred the culture wars.

Yes, he was a hardliner.

But he did not deserve this.

No one does.

And anyone celebrating his murder - on BlueSky, or Twitter (X), or TikTok, or wherever - is not just wrong.

They are abandoning the very foundation of justice and mercy upon which all moral and ethical thought rests.

“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil,

who put darkness for light and light for darkness.” - Isaiah 5:20

I don’t know what happens next.

I don’t know if this will be the spark that ignites even more political violence.

I don’t know if this will make Kirk a martyr, or just another casualty of our increasingly polarised world.

But I do know this:

When someone is murdered - especially in public, especially for their views - it is not a time to score points.

It is a time to mourn.

A time to reflect.

A time to ask hard questions - not just about the shooter, but about the culture that created him.

About us.

And if we don’t take that seriously - if we continue to live in the fog of outrage, in the heat of partisan hatred - then it won’t just be one man’s life lost.

It will be all of ours.

The Humanity Star was a reflective, passive satellite, or "cosmic disco ball," launched in January 2018 by the New Zealand-based company Rocket Lab, to orbit Earth and reflect sunlight to create a blinking light visible to the naked eye. Designed to be a symbol and prompt for contemplation of humanity's place in the universe, it was made of a carbon fiber geodesic sphere with 65 reflective panels that spun rapidly. The satellite burned up upon re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere in March 2018.