Many of us are grieving the assassination of TPUSA founder, 31-year-old Charlie Kirk. Its unimaginable to me that in this day and age, a person debating students at an outdoor rally in Utah would be murdered.
The assassin has been named as 22-year-old Tyler. He drove 300 miles to climb a building rooftop, prepare his 30-6 rifle and scope, and fired a single bullet from 150 yards away that killed Kirk instantly.
I’m not here to debate whether Kirk was an American hero or not, however through this tragedy I couldn’t help think of the courageous deed the assassin’s father committed by during his own son into the police.
On the surface, it seems unimaginable. Parents are wired to protect. From the time our children are born, we do everything in our power to keep them safe. But there comes a time, in rare and tragic situations, when love takes a different shape. This father faced one of those moments. Faced with the knowledge that his son had committed a grave crime; he made the most painful decision a parent can make: he turned him over to the authorities.
Some will say this was betrayal. Others will say it’s proof that today’s world has gone cold. But here in our community, we ought to see it for what it truly is: an act of honor, integrity, and faith in something bigger than ourselves.
The Bible tells us in Proverbs that “the Lord delights in those who are truthful.” Truth, even when it cuts to the bone, is the foundation of justice. By refusing to cover for his son, this father placed truth and justice above personal comfort. He showed that blind loyalty is not the same as love. Real love means guiding someone—even your own child—back toward accountability and, hopefully, redemption.
We should also remember what this means for the community. Too often, crimes are hidden because family or friends stay silent. “It’s not my place,” they say, or, “blood is thicker than water.” But silence in the face of wrongdoing doesn’t protect anyone, it allows hurt to spread, and it denies victims and their families the justice they deserve. This father’s courage shows us another way. He set an example not only for his family, but for all of us.
And perhaps most importantly, he set an example for our young people. In an age where shortcuts and excuses are easy to find, this choice reminds us all that doing the right thing often comes at a cost. Honor isn’t about comfort. Integrity isn’t about convenience. These values are about standing firm in the truth, even when your heart is breaking. Our kids need to hear that message, and they need to see adults living it out.
Here in our community, we know the importance of accountability. We teach it in our churches, in our schools, and in our homes. And while none of us prays to face the choice this father did, his example calls us higher. It reminds us that justice is not just the job of courts and police officers—it starts with ordinary people making hard, honest choices.
This father did not betray his son. He gave him the only chance left—to face what he had done, to accept the consequences, and perhaps to find forgiveness. In doing so, he also gave his community, and the rest of us, a lesson in what true integrity looks like.
May we learn from it. And may we have the same courage, if ever we are called upon to place truth above comfort and justice above silence.
And may we learn from this tragedy, that violence is not the answer for disagreements. Kirk always provided those with opposing views a forum, a debate. That is what are founding fathers wanted when they shaped America, certainly not killing those with opposing views.
