Sunday’s memorial for the late conservative activist Charlie Kirk certainly was an interesting spectacle. The five-hour event in Glendale, Ariz., attended by thousands of supporters spread across two arenas, was hardly a somber funeral so much as a combined tent revival and political rally.
As the Washington Post describes it, the event was one of the largest events of its kind in American history, requiring security resources that rival the Super Bowl and offering “a window into the future of conservative politics.” The evangelist Franklin Graham further praised the proceedings, saying the event was a “revival” to spread the gospel to those across the world.
To be fair, this is probably what Charlie Kirk would have wanted, and his widow, Erika Kirk, signed off on it. He was a public figure, tied heavily to the current administration and its 2024 campaign. It’s no surprise this memorial service would turn into stump speeches, regardless of whether that should be considered tasteless or not.
For the most part, the proceedings were excessive but faith-oriented, with most of the speakers using their speeches to prioritize the role of faith and religious revival over partisan politics. Even Tucker Carlson, Robert F. Kennedy and JD Vance were quick to prioritize the importance of finding faith and forgiveness in this moment, making repeated allusions to Stephen the Martyr and St. Francis of Assisi as models of grace and faith. Erika Kirk took this the farthest by concluding her speech by publicly forgiving her husband’s assassin.
Naturally, President Donald Trump’s concluding 45-minute speech took things furthest afield, with lengthy tangents and rants about crime prevention, tariffs, autism prevention and the Biden administration.
The most telling line of the night, though, came when he compared himself to Kirk, admonishing the fallen commentator’s bravery and willingness to debate anybody who wanted to speak on religion and politics through debate. However, Trump sardonically joked he doesn’t share Kirk’s grace and patience.
“In a private moment on his dying day, we find out everything about who Charlie Kirk truly was, a missionary with a noble spirit and a great, great purpose. He did not hate his opponents. He wanted the best for them. That’s where I disagreed with Charlie. I hate my opponent, and I don’t want the best for them. I’m sorry, Erika. But now Erika can talk to me and the whole group, and maybe they can convince me that’s not right, but I can’t stand my opponent.”
“If Trump hates his enemies, that suggests the rest of America does too.”
These attitudes cut against the literal word of the gospel, and the words of most of the other attendees of the event. And given the overall faith-oriented nature of the event, this is a bizarrely honest admission. There’s no subtext to this moment.
Christ admonishes his followers to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:44-45). Christians are called to perfection through a life of imitating Christ.
Given that Trump survived his own assassination attempt 14 months ago, one would think he might have something more profound to say.
It’s certainly understandable why he might have personal resentments after five years of election failures and legal battles, but such comments reflect more than one man’s grievances.
Trump is very much the metaphysical avatar of the current moment. As the right-wing secularizes, his voice represents that of the alienated middle-class man in flyover country whose prospects have been crushed by modernity. The populist rage he represents is real, but it is often incoherent and unfocused, much like Trump. It is becoming more detached from faith and more reliant on reactionary grumbling.
If Trump hates his enemies, that suggests the rest of America does too. The secular right actively wants revenge for its grievances and hates the left.
And again, to be fair, loving your enemies is actually very hard. Christ’s call for loving one’s enemies is no laughing matter. Few Americans at the moment are ready to forgive their neighbors and family members for how they vote. We’re all guilty of this.
As G.K. Chesterton reminds us, “The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because generally they are the same people.”
Here’s praying for his eternal soul that Erika Kirk changes his mind and teaches him the grace she was able to offer, and that the sitting president would be granted what the Book of Common Prayer calls for in all leaders, “authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do thy will.”
Tyler Hummel is a Wisconsin-based freelance critic and journalist, a member of the Music City Film Critics Association, a regular film and literature contributor at Geeks Under Grace, and was the 2021 College Fix Fellow at Main Street Nashville.


