Five days after I left my short stint heading news partnerships at X, a friend texted me with the details of Charlie Kirk’s assassination. Assuming I was cooling off after a long period of eating, breathing and sleeping Elon Musk’s social platform, this note was intended as a simple ICYMI to someone who didn’t miss much – one that I am grateful to have received.
I didn’t know Charlie Kirk, but every aspect of my recent job was influenced by his work. X is the home of countless communicators aiming to follow Kirk’s pattern of boldness, eloquence, and clarity. I haven’t done the math, but my guess is for every 100 aspiring Charlies, none manage to fill the mold.
Opening X on my phone Wednesday afternoon ushered me into a world I feared was becoming extinct. Post upon post was an appeal to pray. Pray for Charlie. Pray for Erika. Pray for the children. Pray for the hearts, the minds of young people. Pray for a nation divided. Yes, there was a lot of other noise on X – there always is – but the call for prayers was overwhelming.
This was a different call to action than the one I remember witnessing when my Twitter use was beginning to take flight. In 2012, with a 6-year-old, 2-year-old, and 2-day-old at home, I scrolled through post after post after the December 14 shooting at Sandy Hook, encouraging us to shelve the thoughts and prayers and focus on solutions instead of platitudes. As an editor in the Wall Street Journal’s newsroom at the time, I tended to agree the thoughts and prayers line was getting a little old.
I relived that nine years later when a 15-year-old shot up Oxford High School, a short drive from my house. Ethan Crumbley’s bullets killed and injured classmates, including one who had sat in the backseat of my car on road trips to gymnastics meets. Prayers seemed like a slice of the equation, but damn we needed to do something about guns.
In our world, there is an urgent need for prayerful petitions and also a need for action. But, there is a pecking order.
Utah County Sheriff Mike Smith explained that pecking order Friday during a press conference. After running through the predictable lists of shoutouts to law enforcement and public officials, he paused before saying, “Most of all, I would like to thank the public and specifically I would like to thank the public who turned to prayers and who turned to positiveness for us … we needed those prayers. That’s what we needed to get through this.”
If social media is, as Utah Governor Spencer Cox deemed it during the same event, “a cancer,” its rot lies in its stubborn insistence on trying to replace real life. These platforms can be a tool for good, enabling free speech and breaking down geographic, generational and socioeconomic barriers that limit or prevent physical relationships. However, these platforms – like most media – have little appetite for nuance and too often trick us into thinking that words only have meaning if they are shouted in a digital town hall.
This is delusional. And it is in delusion where evil most comfortably resides, camouflaging itself as anything it can to make its work feel less evil. Anyone who has been introduced to the advice C.S. Lewis’s senior devil Screwtape passes along to his nephew Wormwood, knows that evil is most content when it is considered banal and impotent.
Charlie Kirk’s assassination, specifically its aftermath, reminds us of two important things. One, even the best of us can’t always stand in the way of evil. And, the most effective way to confront evil is by doing the thing that feels most powerless in the fog of war: prayer.
While evil doesn’t walk around wearing a nametag saying “Hello, My Name is ____,” its influence and presence leaves an unmistakable mark in its wake. Cunning and relentless, evil tends to be as persistent as it is crafty. Evil will strike again and that strike will catch us by surprise like it did on 9/11 and nearly 24 years later on 9/10.
In this instance, we are wise to take advice ladled out on X in the wake of a martyr’s death. “Pray, fool, pray.” For our fight is not against flesh and blood but powers and principalities working to tear our union apart.
Imagine a world where social media, for all its ills, drives us to the increasingly unfamiliar spot of being on our knees in a relatively powerless position. That world gives us hope when we realize that being on our knees is actually the most powerful posture there is.
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John D. Stoll is a writer based in Rochester, Mich. He worked for 13 years at Wall Street Journal as a reporter, editor and columnist, leaving in 2020. He most recently ran news partnerships at X.
The views expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.
