Weep Not for Me, Weep for Yourselves: Exposing the Hearts Revealed in Charlie Kirk’s Passing
Weep Not for Me, Weep for Yourselves: The Witness of Charlie Kirk’s Death
“But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children” (Luke 23:28).
Not all tears are the same. Some spring from faith and hope, others from confusion, and others still from blind hatred. Jesus drew that line on the road to Calvary, and I believe that line is being drawn again today. The death of Charlie Kirk has revealed hearts—some weep, some mock, some are indifferent. The question is not whether the line is there, but this: where will you be standing when it’s done?
A Bitter Celebration
Scripture shows us plainly: when the truth pierces hearts, the wicked sometimes respond with glee at the downfall of God’s servants. At the crucifixion, men mocked and wagged their heads, saying, “He saved others; himself he cannot save” (Matthew 27:42). At Paul’s imprisonment, some preachers rejoiced, supposing to add affliction to his bonds (Philippians 1:15–16). And in Revelation 11, the two witnesses are slain in the street, and the world rejoices, sending gifts one to another because their tormentors were gone.
So it is today. Charlie Kirk’s death is not only mourned by the faithful, but grotesquely celebrated by those who hated his message. Social corners of the world light up with mockery, laughter, and satisfaction. This is not new; it is the old hatred of the world against the Word of God.
The Exposure of Hearts
Death has a way of tearing away the veil. In life, Charlie’s opponents could pretend their quarrel was political. They could mask their rage with arguments about partisanship, influence, or culture. But in death, the masks slip. The rejoicing over his blood exposes the truth: this was never about mere politics. It was about light versus darkness, Christ versus the world.
The Apostle John wrote: “And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). Their laughter at his death testifies against them. The very joy they feel reveals the depth of the enmity in their hearts toward Christ Himself.
Those Who Mourn, Yet Do Not Understand
Not all rejoice. Many mourn. Yet here too we see a division. Some grieve because they truly share Charlie’s faith, his foundation in the Word of God, and his allegiance to Christ. Others mourn because they merely shared his conclusions, not his convictions.
This is where motives matter. Years ago I found myself standing among anti-abortion voices. On the surface we all agreed. But my stand was because the Bible says God formed life in the womb, and abortion is murder. For others, the reason was cultural, or because their church leader opposed it, or simply because it made them uncomfortable. And I realized—if that leader changed his mind, or if the culture gave them a different reason, their convictions would shift. They were never anchored in the eternal Word.
Agreement on an issue does not equal unity in Christ. If I begin ten feet to the left aiming for heaven, and you begin ten feet to the right aiming elsewhere, our paths may cross for a moment, but we are not headed to the same place. That momentary agreement is fragile, because it is circumstantial. But when we agree that Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6), when we submit to the authority of God’s Word, then we have true unity.
That is the unity Christ prayed for (John 17:21). That is the unity Paul preached, calling us to be of “one mind and one judgment” (1 Corinthians 1:10). That is the unity the prophets demanded of Israel. Anything else is lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—and Revelation warns that the Lord will spew the lukewarm out of His mouth (Revelation 3:16).
Many mourn Charlie’s passing today, but only those who mourn as fellow disciples share his destination. Others are like the crowds at Stephen’s death—holding the coats while the stones fly, mourning the violence yet unmoved to faith.
The Vindication of Truth
But as always, the wicked and the shallow rejoice too soon. The rulers rejoiced at the cross, but on the third day Christ rose. The world threw a party at the death of the two witnesses, but after three and a half days, “the Spirit of life from God entered into them, and they stood upon their feet” (Revelation 11:11). Even Paul could write from prison: “The things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel” (Philippians 1:12).
So even now, though Charlie’s voice is silenced on earth, his testimony is louder than ever. The celebration of his enemies is itself proof of the truth he proclaimed. The shallow grief of those who only agreed outwardly exposes the difference between cultural conservatism and biblical Christianity. And the steadfast mourning of the saints testifies that his labor was not in vain in the Lord (1 Corinthians 15:58).
Our Call in the Face of Scorn
We should not be surprised when the world mocks the death of the righteous. Jesus said: “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven” (Matthew 5:11–12).
Charlie’s death has become a dividing line: to the wicked, an excuse for mockery; to the shallow, a moment of confused mourning; but to the church, a reminder that our fellowship is not with the world, but with Christ in His sufferings (Philippians 3:10). The rejoicing of sinners only proves the surety of judgment. The unstable grief of the half-committed shows the danger of lukewarm faith. And the hope of saints proves the surety of resurrection.
The Eternal Irony
Just imagine it. You lived your life believing the right things for the wrong reasons—politics, social conformity, a form of godliness but denying the power thereof (2 Timothy 3:5). You stood “against abortion,” “for family,” “for morality,” but only because your party, your church leader, or your circle expected it. It was lip service, not faith.
And then there are others, who believed all the wrong things for the “right” reason—because they hated Christ and His Word. They loved darkness rather than light (John 3:19). Their rebellion was open, their hatred unmasked.
And death comes, as it always will. And you open your eyes, side by side in hellfire. One from hypocrisy, the other from hatred. You look up, and afar off you see a man you both despised for different reasons—Charlie, not because he was perfect, but because he pointed to Christ. And between you a great gulf is fixed (Luke 16:26). He cannot hear you. He cannot remember you. For the glory of heaven has swallowed up every earthly grief, and “the former things are passed away” (Revelation 21:4).
And the irony crushes you—you traded a life of lip service, or of mockery, for the gnashing of teeth. The witness you once brushed aside is now branded on your memory forever.
But friend, it does not have to end this way. The Word of God still pleads: “Today if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts, as in the provocation” (Hebrews 3:15). Don’t listen only to the man; listen to the message. For the message is about the Man—the Son of God, who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29). That includes your sin.
Turn to Him, while it is still called today.
The Saints’ Tears
The saints know that mourning is not a mark of unbelief but of love. Scripture does not forbid grief—it sanctifies it. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). Even Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus (John 11:35). The women who followed Him to Calvary wept (Luke 23:27). Peter, after denying the Lord three times, went out and wept bitterly (Matthew 26:75). David poured out his tears in the Psalms (Psalm 6:6).
Weeping is expected—but not all weeping is the same. Some tears spring from faith, from hearts that love Christ and grieve the loss of a brother while clinging to the hope of resurrection. Other tears flow from confusion, from those who shared conclusions but not convictions. Still others weep as the world weeps—sorrow without hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13).
The difference is not in the eyes that cry but in the heart that believes. The saint’s tears are mingled with hope; the world’s tears are steeped in despair; the shallow mourner’s tears are unstable, shifting with the winds of circumstance. But all are seen by God, who promises: “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).
Closing Prayer
Lord, let us not be shaken by the laughter of the wicked or the instability of the lukewarm. Root us in Your Word. Teach us to discern the difference between momentary agreement and true unity in Christ. Let us take courage in the truth that, as the world rejoices for a moment, heaven records an eternal witness. Help us to stand faithful, knowing that even in death, the testimony of Your saints still shines. Amen.