On Sept. 10, 2025, Charlie Kirk was assassinated. In the aftermath of his death, the world struggled to make sense of the loss.
Many reflected on his influence, his convictions and his relentless engagement in the public square. If we can all set aside the topics of politics and partisan efforts and think about some key aspects of his life, one thing continually stands out to me.
No matter the situation, no matter the setting, no matter how long it took, Charlie Kirk made time to talk with people. He listened. He reasoned. He pressed for truth.
Of course, not all of his conversations were explicitly about the Bible, but his method is one the church can and must recover. Kirk understood something vital: truth is worth contending for, and people are worth engaging with—even when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable, or costly. He did not wait for ideal conditions. He did not retreat because of hostility. He believed conversation was a battlefield worth entering. Whether you agree with Kirk or not, we all can learn from him in that specific regard.
After his death, my mind was drawn to a man in the Bible who embodied conviction and boldness: the Apostle Paul. In the book of Acts, Paul is shuffled from courtroom to courtroom, leader to leader, defending his life before powerful men. He is falsely accused, misunderstood, and literally bound in chains. Yet wherever Paul goes, he makes it his aim to proclaim the Gospel and the hope he has in Christ. His circumstances never silence his calling.
Near the end of Acts, we read this striking exchange in Acts 26:28–29:
“And Agrippa said to Paul, ‘In a short time would you persuade me to be a Christian?’ And Paul said, ‘Whether short or long, I would to God that not only you but also all who hear me this day might become such as I am—except for these chains.’”
This moment is electric. Paul is the prisoner, yet he speaks as though he is the free man in the room. Agrippa, the king, hears the Gospel clearly enough to recognize that Paul is pressing for a decision. When Agrippa deflects—half-joking, half-resisting—Paul does not retreat. He doubles down with compassion and conviction. Whether short or long, Paul says, my desire is the same: that you would become a Christian.
That line reveals Paul’s heart. He was not concerned with winning arguments, protecting his reputation, or securing his freedom. His ultimate goal was salvation. He believed no one was beyond the reach of the Gospel—not kings, not governors, not skeptics, not executioners. Chains did not change his mission.
There is a powerful irony in this scene. The bound man urges the powerful to become like him. Paul essentially says, I would gladly trade places with you except for these chains because to belong to Christ is true freedom. In God’s Kingdom, the least is greater than the greatest in the kingdoms of men.
While there is no real comparison of the great Apostle with anyone in our day, there are some parallels that are helpful to think about. I believe Paul and Charlie Kirk each understood that truth demands engagement. Each of them believed persuasion matters. Both refused to let opposition, delay, or danger silence them. One stood before kings; the other before college students, critics, and crowds. Different arenas. Same kind of conviction.
The church today must reclaim this resolve. We live in a time of hostility, fear, and retreat. Many believers wait for better conditions before speaking. Paul did not. Kirk did not. And neither should we. Evangelism is not reserved for comfort, it is forged in adversity.
Whether short or long, whether welcomed or rejected, whether free or in chains, our calling remains the same: to speak of Christ, to reason with people, and to long for their salvation. Circumstances do not define our mission. Christ does.
I know it’s easy to remain silent, but let us be a people who speak with courage, listen with patience, and proclaim the Good News with conviction until the very end.
