“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.” —Isaac Asimov, Foundation
Yesterday in the US, Charlie Kirk was killed—a movement leader within the conservative political landscape. For some, this will be mourned as a national tragedy. For others, it may be met with indifference or even a sense of grim satisfaction. But no matter our political convictions, this much must be said with clarity and conviction: the murder of a political leader is not just an act of personal violence—it is a collective alarm bell. It echoes with the brokenness of our time.
Whenever violence erupts in public life, the impulse is to turn quickly to the actors: who did it, why, what did they believe? But to stop there is to miss deeper wisdom. The truth is that violence, especially political violence, is a flare sent up from the depths of our collective soil. It reveals something toxic growing beneath us—something about who we’ve become and what we’re allowing to fester.
Yesterday’s violence did not emerge from a vacuum. We are living in a time of profound alienation and deepening identity fracture. The dominant cultural imagination offers few alternatives beyond the binary: us or them, saved or damned, patriots or enemies of the state. Under that weight, disagreement becomes existential. In a world where identity is weaponized, conflict becomes not just about ideas—it becomes about survival. From there, the threshold from speech to violence thins to a thread.
Layered on top of this is the normalization of spectacle. Violence is no longer surprising—it’s expected. In the past year alone, we’ve witnessed assassination attempts, arson at political residences, violent mobs, and death threats hurled at teachers, governors, and public servants. Rather than shaking us awake, these acts numb us further. Each act of brutality lands with diminished shock, until even murder is processed like just another post in the feed.
But perhaps the most devastating loss is our refusal to grieve together. We do not metabolize violence. We exploit it, as we saw the President do last night. We turn it into political leverage, content fodder, a narrative to control. We do not pause to feel the rupture. We punt it to the next cycle. What we refuse to grieve, we cannot heal. A people who cannot mourn cannot transform.
Even in his final moments, Charlie Kirk was responding to a question—not rallying or screaming, but engaging in dialogue. He had just been asked about mass shootings in the United States. It was a moment of political exchange. And still, it flared into bloodshed. This is the world we’ve built—where public discourse is so fragile, and violence so accessible, that even a question can trigger catastrophe. Where nuance has evaporated, and the human body is no longer a vessel of meaning but a target of ideology. In such a world, the stakes of existence become unbearable.
And yet, we must not meet this moment with more hatred. We must resist the seduction of becoming what we hate in the name of what we love. This is not a call to softness, but to strength of a different kind: to prophetic clarity, moral courage, and the sacred refusal to answer violence with more violence.
Let us be clear: Now is the time for those with spiritual and moral courage to rise—not in revenge, but in resolve. To name what is broken. To imagine what could be. To live as if we remember that another world is still possible.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
What does this act of political violence reveal about the condition of our public life?
Where have I become numb to brutality because it feels “normal” now?
How can I practice interrupting patterns of dehumanization—even in my own thinking?
A Prayer for the Day
When the Body Politic Bleeds
Holy One, We are in pain. Our public life is splintered, And the blood on the floor is our own. A man has been killed. And no matter what he stood for, He was still a son, Still a neighbor, Still a human being. May we never become so numb that we cannot cry. May we never become so bitter that we cannot pray. May we never become so certain that we cannot see. Steady us in the storm. Unravel our addiction to vengeance. Remind us that we belong to each other still. Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Refuse the Reflex
In the coming days, you’ll likely hear arguments justifying today’s violence. Or perhaps you’ll feel a flicker of relief or satisfaction. Pause. Breathe. Refuse the reflex. In that space, do something countercultural:
Grieve.
Pray.
Extend compassion—not to excuse, but to remember.
This week, find one way to interrupt the cycle of dehumanization in your conversations or media habits. Offer mercy where you want to mock. Ask a question where you want to shout. Take one step back toward the sacredness of human life.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
October 18, 2025 - No Kings 2.0 Protest - Scholars of authoritarianism teach us that we need 3.5% of the population rising up to disrupt the rise of authoritarians. The last protest had over 6 million people in the streets in the US (more around the world) which was one of the largest protest in US history. We need to double that number. So here we go again. The movement builds. See you on the streets.
October 20-24, 2025 - FREE Online 5-Day Summit on “Made for These Times: Spiritual Leadership for a World in Crisis.” Political extremism. Climate collapse. Cultural fragmentation. People of faith across the globe are asking: How do we lead with clarity, courage, and compassion in a time like this? REGISTER HERE.
October 23, 30, November 13, 20 2025, 7pm ET - In Search of a New Story: Reimagining What Comes Next, A 4-Part Online Series with Dr. Matthew Fox, Cameron Trimble, Ilia Delio, Diana Butler Bass, Caroline Myss and Luther Smith. We are living through the unraveling of many old stories—about who we are, why we’re here, and how we are meant to live together on this Earth. As these inherited narratives collapse under the weight of climate crisis, social fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection, the question becomes clear: What story will guide us now? REGISTRATION NOW OPEN!
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
I love what you write, but when you say he was "engaging in dialogue", I find myself shaking my head. Yes, he may not have been yelling and screaming (I didn't see the video, so I'll assume that's correct), but "engaging in dialogue" implies a mutual respect. He was spreading hatred and bigotry. While I cannot defend or condone violence, I also don't want to candycoat or misrepresent the bigotry and hatred he spread over the years and continued to spread.
Thank you for your deep wisdom and capacity to articulate what many are feeling -