Charlie Kirk's assassination

I don't have a lot to say about this, but I'm just sick to my stomach that we seem to be living in a time that a person saying things you don't like is a reason to kill them, or even call for their death.  This country can't survive if we can't get back to a point of being able to disagree without hating each other.  My soul hurts today.

I too was shocked when I read about it last night. Charlie promoted discussing ideas in a civil manner, even when you disagree. It is simply evil when someone kills another for their beliefs.

I do not know this person although I very much agree killing for any reason is wrong and a tragedy.
That gut wrenching feeling is all too frequent...when I hear about another school shooting, the assassinations in their homes of political leaders in Minnesota...those killed for the color of their skin, their country of origin, their religion and beliefs....the list is long.

are there solutions to rampant gun violence in the US?

Trace Oswald wrote: I'm just sick to my stomach that we seem to be living in a time that a person saying things you don't like is a reason to kill them, or even call for their death

His pastor made the following statement:

“My friend Charlie Kirk was murdered today by a coward. His life will be remembered for many wonderful things. He built it all with the power of the spoken word. He never used violence but was threatened every day with violence by those who couldn’t contend with logic and truth and now they have done to my friend what evil always does; it takes away life.

Charlie did not die however but instead he has begun to truly live. His life was secured eternally by His Savior Jesus Christ. This truth allowed Charlie to face every threat with courage because he didn’t fear death. All evil knows is death and they derive power from death. Charlie lived for life and will be remembered for this. My heart is broken for his family; His wife Erika and his two precious children. Evil has not prevailed and it will not win.”

Rob McCoy
He called me his pastor but I prefer to be known as his friend and biggest fan.

In many cases it is far too easy to blame the gun when what really needs to be taken by the horns is mental health. A sane person wouldn't automatically go for a gun a sociopath does. It is so hard to identify one that is on a mental precipice. A car, an explosive, a knife all instruments used in recent memory, mental health needs to be addressed and how does a society monitor its populace for that?

I agree that a fully sane person wouldn’t kill—but, almost anyone, when pushed to the brink, might.

I might not agree with Kirk’s views and activities but I think that it is healing to take a pause and grieve what we have come to, not offering any solutions. When we are able to accept, tearfully, things as they are, simply, then it is possible to turn away from the spiral, the cycle of violence, of hatred, of greed—turn away and turn to life, to the nourishing of life, to the good of ourselves and our ancestors, the good of the land, the good of future generations—to turn towards goodness and renewal, knowing, “There is this”, and, turning back, again and again, to life, to the present, to the dreaming, to the growing up from good earth, from lovely earth the abundance blossoming, the little weeds of the field, lovely medicine-herbs, the great oaks of the hills, lovely they stand, showering acorns, food up from the black earth, black mountain earth, plopping well upon the leaves, well upon the sedges and upon the loam; to the sound of beavers as wood they chew, chew to build their palaces and royal irrigation canals and make the earth deep and moist and whole again, the bears up high in the mountain-woods as they roam, deer as on light feet they stride and gallop and leap, spotted, graceful; to the good fruit; to the neighbors; to the cutting and slicing, the laying and drying; the slicing and boiling into sweet porridge, the apples of the hills, sweet the multitudes as they ripen, laden the excellent boughs, excellent their gifts, their sweetness good to drink from excellent boughs, from laden boughs; and the grapes as they ripen in the chill air; the turkeys in the meadow, morning’s bright mead, as they roam, as they peck and cluck, as they go, one by one, into their forested abodes, up by the jutting stones, up by the black earth, dark hemlock-earth, lovely, ancient; these places, all whole within us, all whole with us within!—how wonderful?

We go on churning stories but the rivers are churning fish; we go on sowing hatred and anger, but the chipmunks are sowing sweet fruit. One who sits down long enough forgets what they were thinking and remembers something else, something more whole and lovely than the other thing. Sit down, afraid; rise up, hopeful again, and again and again until hope and fear give way to that-which-is—it is more beautiful, more terrifying, than either of those. Vast, the mountains look so big from up here; cramped, the houses and cars so big from the road. Tiny creatures, like ants, move hither and thither; we are only those ants. To remember is to remember the mountain; it is splendid, and we are beautiful, seeing everything in our original mind, our original manner.