Addressing Charlie Kirk’s Death from the Pulpit

Addressing Charlie Kirk’s Death from the Pulpit

What should a preacher do with major, tragic events that dominate national headlines? Ignore them and simply preach the Word? Alter the sermon to address the hot topic? Or take some other option?

This challenge presented itself following the assassination of right-wing political activist Charlie Kirk. His tragic killing was widely covered. Since many church folks find it hard to escape the shadow of either social media or the mainstream media, their minds were undoubtedly transfixed by that major news story. What is the preacher to do in such a moment?

I once heard the late Fred Craddock speak at a seminar for preachers. Craddock was a beloved preacher, scholar, and teacher of homiletics. He shared about an occasion when he had been asked to deliver a sermon at an Oklahoma church. The worship service was going well enough when a girl, perhaps aged twelve, came up to play a solo on her violin. She only made it to the halfway point, however, when she suddenly burst into tears, laid down her instrument, and quickly exited the sanctuary.

Craddock had no idea what was happening but knew it was significant. The worship service continued, and he got up to preach. Guest preachers often like to begin with a short and often humorous remark to connect with the unknown congregation. Since the girl’s abrupt exit seemed to demand commentary, a part of Craddock wanted to soften it by making light of stage fright.

A voice inside his head cautioned him, however, so he ignored what they had witnessed. After the service, he was told the young girl’s mother had recently died. Her emotional exit had nothing to do with stage fright. A sense of relief swept over him because he had avoided what would have been an insensitive comment, revealing his ignorance about the dramatic scene.

The didactic point of this story is that preachers are often wise to disregard goings-on around them and just to deliver scriptural messages. The wisdom of such advice is clear. Often, when we step up to preach on a given Sunday—even in the midst of chaotic and depressing events—we don’t yet fully understand the context or trajectory of those circumstances. Craddock’s experience with the girl’s solo highlights the uncertainty of wading in without all the facts.

Yet most who deliver Sunday sermons are not guest preachers. They are not strangers unfamiliar with their congregations. They are pastors who guide, nourish, and teach their flocks. Failing to name the obvious is to act as if one does not belong to this group of people.

Andy Stanley, the well-known preacher at North Point Community Church in Atlanta, once shared about a mistake he feels he made following the election of Donald Trump in 2016. Stanley had thought it wise to avoid politics that Sunday, so he made no mention of the election. Following his Sunday sermon, however, a significant number of North Point members messaged Stanley to express their disappointment at his silence. While many in the church no doubt cheered the election of Trump, many others were in deep shock and mourning. They reached out to say that they had expected their minister or pastor to at least acknowledge and give space for their grief, even if they didn’t expect him to side for or against Trump.

In my estimation, this second anecdote provides a helpful corrective to the first one. A preacher may wish to stay above the fray and never broach sensitive or hot topics in contemporary society. To keep silent, however, is to ignore one’s role as pastor. The people sitting in church likely have their heads in these major stories. To overlook the obvious is to pretend you don’t know your church. For a guest preacher or even a new minister, this may be okay. But for those who have developed a sense of connection with their churches over many years, this feels like a calloused approach.

You may have a different opinion, but I believe that a lead minister would be wise to touch on these topics, not as a preacher with a prophetic voice but as a pastor with a compassionate heart. Don’t ignore the obvious.

But at the same time, don’t rewrite your sermon to address the latest scandal or tragedy. Don’t change your title as a marketing gimmick to address a contemporary issue. That’s the lesson of the Fred Craddock story. It’s not the preacher’s job to interpret everything for everyone, or to weigh in on every major event.

But to act as if nothing is happening is also risky. I think it wiser to acknowledge that your members may be disturbed or distracted by what’s happening. This is the voice of a minister who cares for their people.

Landmines abound in our polarized world. For many church-goers, our society today feels like a place of constant chaos and danger. Our Christian congregations ought to be places where they can feel their feelings, express their doubts, lay them before the throne of God, and leave with a renewed focus on the Rock of their salvation. A wise pastor ought to know how to guide them down a path of confession and submission before God. From my vantage point, that is the best way to address tragic events from the pulpit.

You Don’t Need Permission—You Need Skill

You Don’t Need Permission—You Need Skill