The Last Word Belongs to Jesus
Reflections on 9/11, Charlie Kirk, and walking like Jesus in a world of anger
Yesterday brought the shocking news of Charlie Kirk’s murder. Today we remember 9/11.
Two moments, different in scale, but both reminders of how fragile life is—and how quickly the headlines define people.
This morning, I spoke with a school leader I respect. His shoulders were squared as he walked with purpose, but his eyes told another story. He carried the weight of both tragedies: the loss of life and the sobering reality that countless young people had already seen what should never be seen.
Charlie’s words were sharp—arrows that pierced marrow. He had intentions for truth, even though it was often provocative.
His life and his passing reminded me of Dallas Willard. He had a rule: he would never debate in public. But once, in a rare Q&A session, an audience member fired off a question—sharp, angry, dripping with oppression. Dallas paused, then gently closed the session: “I think this is where we will stop.”
Dallas knew what we often forget: the battle is not against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6). Sometimes what confronts us is evil itself—darkness, hatred, destructive pride. Our role is to call it what it is, and then refuse to join it.
Jesus modeled this. He never cowered, but He moved in step with the Spirit—knowing when to speak, and when to walk away.
My four-year-old echoed this wisdom last week. Out of nowhere, she said, “You can ignore someone when they say something bad.” Her words were simple but true. As her dad, I added, “Sometimes walking away is obedience, but most times standing up means saying, 'Stop, please,' and then finding help.
My wife lived this out on the road. A man in a truck, with tattoos up his arms, screamed at her and hurled a vile name. His pride was bruised over a lane change. She was alone with our three daughters. She didn’t roll down the window. She didn’t shout back. She drove on. Later, she even wrote a letter—sharing the gospel with him—and asked if she should deliver it. I said, “I’ll drop it off for you.”
What if she had shouted back? What if she had matched his anger? The moment could have escalated into danger. Her restraint was protection.
Yes, we must defend the helpless. Yes, if someone breaks into your home to harm your family, you take the gloves off and fight with everything in you. But in intellectual battles, in prideful arguments, in the craving to have the last word—it’s better to let Jesus have the last word. Because He does. Death has no sting. Christ is victorious.
We must be light carriers and truth bearers. My alma mater declared, “Teach truth, love well.” A teacher from the same school corrected me: “Love well, teach truth.” Both matter. The order matters too.
So today I’m asking myself:
What good is it to answer a fool? Proverbs says to answer, and also not to answer (Proverbs 26:4-5). Wisdom, which can only come from God, is knowing which is which.
What will I be known for? What will the headline say? I pray my life leaves no doubt: I loved Jesus, and I loved others.
Who can I point to Jesus today?
How do we guard the younger generation from images and conversations their souls are not yet ready for?
Psalm 101 says, “I will walk with integrity of heart within my house… I will not set before my eyes anything that is worthless.” That’s a word for today.
Because in the end, it isn’t about winning arguments. It’s about walking in the Spirit. 9/11 reminds us, and the daily news confirms, that this world is marked by evil. But it also reminds us to guard our homes, our hearts, and our children, and to love like Jesus.
The mission is simple, though never easy: that every word, every silence, and every headline would point back to Him.