The hundreds of thousands of Americans who tuned into Charlie Kirk’s funeral could not help but notice the contrasting messages presented by speakers. “There could not have been a clearer presentation of the gospel” by some speakers, while “it was almost like a political gospel that was spoken” by others, said Family Research Council President Tony Perkins on “Washington Watch.” “And I really think it’s a picture of the current conservative movement, if you will.”
On one hand, Pastor Frank Turek affirmed the incarnation and explained penal substitutionary atonement:
“The only way to get grace from an infinitely just being is for him to punish an innocent substitute in our place. Where can he find an innocent substitute among us? He can’t. We’re all fallen. So, what does this infinitely just and infinitely loving God do? He adds humanity to his deity. He comes to earth. He allows the creatures that rebelled against him to torture and kill so he could place their punishment upon himself. And then, by trusting in him, every one of us can be forgiven and then given his righteousness.”
On the other hand, White House advisor Stephen Miller preached a message of political victory over the enemies of Western civilization. “Our lineage and our legacy hails back to Athens, to Rome, to Philadelphia, to Monticello. Our ancestors built the cities. They produced the art and architecture. They built the industry,” he proclaimed. “The light will defeat the dark. We will prevail over the forces of wickedness and evil. They cannot imagine what they have awakened. They cannot conceive of the army that they have [raised] in all of us. … To those trying to foment hatred against us, what do you have? You have nothing. You are nothing. You are wickedness. You are jealousy. You are envy. You are hatred. You are nothing.”
On one hand, Charlie’s widow, Erika Kirk announced through tears that she forgave his assassin. “On the cross, our Savior said, ‘Father forgive them, for they know not what they do’ [Luke 23:34],” she said, visibly contending with her emotions. “That young man — I forgive him. I forgive him because it was what Christ did and is what Charlie would do. The answer to hate is not hate. The answer we know from the gospel is love and always love, love for our enemies and love for those who persecute us [Matthew 5:44].”
On the other hand, President Donald Trump confessed that he found such forgiveness impossible, apart from a supernatural work of the Holy Spirit in his life. Kirk “did not hate his opponents; he wanted the best for them,” Trump began. “That’s where I disagree with Charlie. I hate my opponent. And I don’t want the best for them. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Erika. But now, maybe Erika can talk to me and the whole group, and maybe they can convince me that that’s not right. But I can’t stand my opponent.”
Perkins was “troubled” by the content of some of the speeches, concluding that they showed “the contrast between the Kingdom of God, which is countercultural, which is counterintuitive, to the world. I think we actually saw that on display in the conservative movement yesterday.”
Of course, these contrasting messages and visions cannot be reconciled. Jesus himself juxtaposed these views on enemies in the Sermon on the Mount. “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:43-45). And Jesus contrasted the political gospel with a spiritual gospel in his discussion with Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting” (John 18:36).
The way of Trump and Miller is earthly; the way of Erika Kirk and Turek is heavenly. One may be tempted to ask, which is the real legacy of Charlie Kirk? Which is the real pattern of conservatism?
Yet these questions presume that there is only one conservatism, one legacy of Charlie Kirk — one straw man at which leftist media quills can tilt. In reality, at least two distinct movements were jostling one another for position at Sunday’s memorial service, continue to jostle in the Trump administration, and have jostled around in Republican politics for some time.
Whether either movement — the Christian or non-Christian brands of conservatism — will succeed in claiming an undisputed right to Kirk’s legacy, or for control of Republican politics, remains an open question. Even the roster for Turning Point’s nationwide tour depicts a Kaleidoscopic study in contrast, with Tucker Carlson speaking six days before Allie Beth Stuckey, (Hindu) Vivek Ramaswamy, and (nondenominational) Montana Governor Greg Gianforte (R) sandwiched between two events with Mormon speakers, and Pastor Turek sharing the stage with comedian Rob Schneider.
The only point that seems settled (for now) is that the two movements will coexist as a confederation of rivals while the values of both remain under assault from the culturally dominant Left.
This is what leftist critics — who have already sounded the alarm over Kirk’s memorial service as a beacon of “Christian nationalism” — fail to understand. They notice Christians and nationalists sharing the same stage, notice some similarities between their ideas, and conclude that they represent a sinister cabal of “Christian nationalists.” This is like watching a professional bike race, noticing that the participants are all mounted on bicycles and all riding in a group and concluding that they are all on the same team.
This does not diminish the substantial overlap between the conservative Christian camp and the right-wing nationalist movement. Nor does it deny the reality that many Christians support the existence of nations, and that many nationalists see value in Christianity. The distinction lies in the location of a person’s ultimate hope and allegiance. Does the person ultimately rely on and believe in a political answer to life’s evils? Or a spiritual one? Is the person’s ultimate goal to restore a conservative, nationalist ideal of Western civilization, or to be counted among the citizens of the kingdom of heaven?
Some confusion among outsiders on this point is understandable. Both movements want marriages to prosper, families to increase, America to thrive, intermediate institutions to multiply, moral norms to endure, and freedom to ring. These overlapping objectives can foster much cooperation, especially in the face of a leftist movement that wants exactly the opposite. But their common goals do not make the movements into one.
Adding to the confusion is the fact that some people can move from one camp into the other, including Charlie Kirk. “Charlie’s journey was that he was a conservative who really grew in his faith,” posited Perkins. “As we’re confronted with some of these culturally crazy ideas [about] gender … there are many in the conservative movement that are coming to faith from that door.”
The danger is that the door is a two-way thoroughfare. As Perkins put it, “Some are coming to faith through their politics, while others are coming to politics because of their faith.” It’s fine for a Christian to reason their way into conservative principles by reading the Bible, as many people have done before them. But they should beware lest politics become an idol, stealing away their allegiance to Jesus Christ and their hope for eternal life, in exchange for the disappointing deliverables of a political agenda.
As much as “we want the gospel in that arena, we want the gospel impacting government,” said Perkins. “We don’t want to think that our future, the advancement of the kingdom of God, is going to be done by politics. We’re going to impact politics, but we don’t want politics impacting the gospel and the kingdom.” What this means is that Christians are motivated to engage in politics because of Jesus’s command to love their neighbors, and they should be free to seek their neighbor’s good with explicitly religious ideas. But that does not mean that they want to mingle the church with politics to the point that the church is subsumed and corrupted by a political agenda.
Given the high passions that politics stokes, Christians need to remain absolutely clear on their guiding principle if they hope to avoid pitfalls. “If we want to keep our peace and stay on course, we have to be rooted and grounded in the word,” insisted Perkins. “We need to keep the word of God, because that will give us a clear path forward.”
This philosophy is no creation of the modern “Religious Right.” The church father Augustine articulated this dual approach to politics in “The City of God” (written in the early 5th century). “Two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self,” he wrote.
“The one seeks glory from men; but the greatest glory of the other is God, the witness of conscience. The one lifts up its head in its own glory; the other says to its God, ‘Thou art my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.’ … The wise men of the one city, living according to man, have sought for profit to their own bodies or souls. … But in the other city there is no human wisdom, but only godliness, which offers due worship to the true God, and looks for its reward in the society of the saints, of holy angels as well as holy men, ‘that God may be all in all.’”
Those two cities still impel people to engage in politics for radically different reasons. Those two cities inspire two different visions for American conservatism, which were evident this Sunday at Charlie Kirk’s funeral.