There, I said it; and in a way I’m sorry, though, in another, I’m not, because I can’t be. Let me explain.
Charlie Kirk’s death was widely proclaimed a martyrdom.
“From a supernatural perspective, [Kirk] died not as the victim of a political assassination, but as a martyr for Jesus Christ,” said German Catholic Cardinal Gerhard Muller in an interview published Sept. 17. So, too, did Father Dwight Longenecker, when he said on his website on Sept. 11, “Charlie lived and died witnessing to his faith in Jesus Christ, so in that sense, he is a true martyr.”
But what does it really mean to be a martyr?
This question haunted me in the days following Kirk’s death. What should we make of martyrdom? How should we react to it? With sadness? Sublimity? In short, Kirk’s assassination brought, at least for me, more questions than answers, questions of a deep, existential sort – the type not easily answered.
In his interview, Muller highlighted the Greek origin of the word, which is martyros, meaning “one who bore witness.” The Oxford English Dictionary explains it this way:
A person who chooses to suffer death rather than renounce faith in Christ or obedience to his teachings, a Christian way of life, or adherence to a law or tenet of the Church; (also) a person who chooses to suffer death rather than renounce the beliefs or tenets of a particular Christian denomination, sect, etc.
Still, these definitions seemed lacking, for, as clear and thorough as they are, they appeared void of essence, and, once again, I was left with that old gnawing, the unfulfilled need that I was simply unable to escape.
This wanting was to be fulfilled by none other than Kirk himself.
I found the first glimpses of it in the videos I saw of him, which emerged numerous and relentless in the days following his death. For there, right in the middle of his interviews, debates and speeches seemed to be the essence – not only of martyrdom – but of Kirk himself.
“You guys should be here [in school] to read really old, good books,” he told a crowd of students in a Hillsdale College video published in his honor on Sept. 20, “understand ancient philosophy, to become a well-rounded citizen of what is good, true and beautiful...”
“Ahhhh,” I thought. “Beauty. Now there is a word we don’t hear much anymore.”
But with Kirk, I heard it repeatedly. Good, true and beautiful…good, true and beautiful. Those words echoed in my head, so much so that I had to contend with them. And contend with them, I did.
In subsequent research, I was reminded that, for centuries, the concept of beauty has been a central part of Western philosophy, particularly as explored by Aristotle. In “Metaphysics,” the Philosopher describes the “chief forms” of the term as “order, symmetry, and definiteness,” while in Rhetoric, he says that “to be beautiful, a living creature, and every whole made up of parts, must not only present a certain order in its arrangement of parts, but also be of a certain definite magnitude.” Finally, in the Nichomachean Ethics, he says that virtue is beautiful.
In one of the videos, Kirk himself defined beauty as that which has been perfected, going on to tell the student with whom he was debating:
There’s an ultimate perfection. The ultimate perfection would be that there’s a Creator who loves you, who made you in his image, and loved you so much to come down and take the broken flesh form, live a perfect life, die and rise from the dead, that you might live forever. There is nothing more perfect, good, true or beautiful than that.
“That’s it,” I thought. “The essence of martyrdom is … beauty.”
I told my wife about this on the way to church last Sunday.
“Charlie Kirk’s death was beautiful,” I said as we crossed the railroad tracks near our house.
This is why there’s been such an outpouring of emotion, even from people who we wouldn’t expect. Our world is so dark, so beauty-starved, that people saw what happened and were moved by it in the deepest ways imaginable. I know it sounds morbid, but it’s the truth. In the end, beauty is self-sacrifice of the deepest kind. Why, it probably explains why the crucifixion is likely the most painted artistic image in the history of the West, for within that single image is conveyed all of the Divine paradox, all the meaning imaginable in a single, solitary act … don’t you see?
She leaned over and took my hand. “Sweetie,” she said. “I do see. But you know, some people are going to take this the wrong way. Please be careful.”
I patted her back as we picked up speed and sailed on toward mass. “Yes, being careful,” I said. “I don’t think I can do that anymore.”
Along with his father, Allen Keller runs a lumber business in Stevenson, Alabama. He has a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from Florida State University and an MBA from University of Virginia. He can be reached for comment at [email protected].
The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of 1819 News. To comment, please send an email with your name and contact information to [email protected].
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