Erika Kirk and the Beatitudes

The grace of God sends us the words we need to hear sometimes, and such was the case with me when I stumbled across this sentence in Fr. Philippe’s The Eight Doors of the Kingdom: Meditations on the Beatitudes.

Meekness is also the opposite of bitterness, remaining peaceful and confident, rather than being consumed by rancor when faced with injustice or painful situations. (Emphasis mine.)

Consumed by rancor. Fr. Philippe reduced me to three words. These struck me like a stone from David’s sling, right between the eyes, at a time when I needed it badly. Fr. Philippe continues:

[Meekness] is the flexibility of the person who embraces things as they are, not reacting against the reality of things and events.

Much of my own rancor was an internal argument with reality, wishing that events had not taken place, straining against the facts as if my will could somehow change them. In just a few words, Fr. Philippe brought me back to earth, reminding me that I needed to redouble my struggles to live the Beatitudes every day.

This moment sprang to mind following the public tragedies of recent weeks, and their attendant rancor. Sadly, I know a thing or two about what it’s like to endure this pain firsthand, and to encounter that rancor from within and without.

It is extremely easy to be swept up in the visceral emotion of a violent tragedy, and even easier for those on the outside to react quickly and thoughtlessly online, associating perpetrators and victims with “sides” in a political imbroglio, or even just responding to hatred with more hatred. It requires hard work to respond to acts of evil by living Jesus’ words in the Beatitudes, but that is what Christians are called to do.

Sunday’s memorial for Charlie Kirk delivered a tremendous example to the world of what it means to live the Beatitudes, in the remarks of Charlie’s widow, Erika. She said:

On the cross, our Savior said: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

That man—that young man—I forgive him. I forgive him because it’s what Christ did. And it’s what Charlie would do.

The answer to hate is not hate. The answer—we know from the gospel—is love. Always love. Love for our enemies. Love for those who persecute us.

This is what it means to live the Beatitudes. In her words, there is mourning, meekness, mercy, purity of heart, and peacemaking. Erika Kirk provided the world with a profound example of Christian witness, thrust into the limelight so soon after her husband’s murder, and responding with such grace.

If you squint, you can even find a small measure of hope buried within these words from the President:

“[Kirk] 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. I am sorry, Erika. But now Erika can talk to me and the whole group and maybe they can convince me that that’s not right.”

In President Trump, we have a 79-year-old man for whom self-indulgence is “on brand,” a man whose baser instincts are often on display. He chose to use this platform to state that he hates his opponents, which is itself a tragedy. And yet, he still communicates a degree of openness to the truth of the Gospel. The example of Charlie and Erika Kirk may have moved him to consider that retribution and hatred of his enemies might not be the best path to take. Behold the power of forgiveness!

Erika Kirk’s loving response to violent hatred can be extended in every direction, as a way to avoid an argument with the past, focusing instead on the good we can do today and beyond. To wit:

Love those who mourn. Be present to the suffering. Be of service to those who need comfort, either in person or through prayer. I will forever be grateful to my family’s “first responders” – those who hurried to our side when we were hurting the most. The gift of their presence was one I cannot hope to repay in full, one which I will cherish always, and seek to emulate when given the opportunity.

Love the families of the perpetrators. We are quick to associate ourselves with the successes and achievements of our family members; others are equally quick to associate us with our relatives’ failings. We humans want explanations—we desire the assignment of blame for a tragedy, yet the truth is rarely so neatly accommodating. No parent wishes his or her child to commit evil so that we can be assured of the anguish felt in the households of murderers. Those families need our prayers, too, just as much as the victims’ families. No one has a monopoly on pain, so a kind word might help alleviate their distress. Kindness and prayer are always welcome in the eyes of the Lord.

Love the perpetrators themselves. What is gained for God by further hatred? If we can desire the salvation of the wayward soul who takes a life, we are one step closer to seeing the world as God sees it:

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all men…This is good, and it is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. (1 Tim 2:1-4)

Pray for the killers to recognize what they’ve done, to seek forgiveness, to find their way to Jesus, in whom there is always hope, even as they face the justice they deserve for their crimes.

I can report from the other side of tragedy that hearts can heal, even from something so violent and devastating. The rancor of the world will come calling; don’t answer it. Each of us can be “part of the solution” by loving and forgiving as Erika Kirk did, completely, radically, vulnerably. There is nothing that love can’t accomplish.