
We live in an age when evil is not merely tolerated but celebrated. Our nation staggers under the weight of lawlessness, and each fresh tragedy reminds us of what happens when justice is delayed, hidden, or excused. In recent days, two murders stand out as chilling testaments to this crisis—the assassination of Charlie Kirk at Utah Valley University and the brutal slaying of Iryna Zarutska. Though different in circumstance, both cases share a common thread: innocent life was cut down, wickedness was emboldened, and the magistrate’s God-ordained duty of justice has once again been called into question.
Charlie Kirk was no stranger to controversy. His boldness in confronting cultural lies, particularly the ideology of transgenderism, made him a target of hostility. And it was there, in what should have been a setting for peaceful dialogue with students, that the hostility boiled over into violence. Reports are clear enough to say this much: his killer was at the very least a trans activist bent on silencing dissent. The attack was not random. It was ideological, calculated, and carried out with the intent to extinguish a voice that dared stand against the rising tide of cultural rebellion. To say this was a crime is obvious; to recognize it as a manifestation of spiritual war is essential. When truth is opposed, when dissent from lies is punished with death, we are seeing not just a clash of politics but the eruption of enmity between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent (Genesis 3:15).
The case of Iryna Zarutska reveals another dimension of the same rot. Iryna was slain senselessly by a man who had no business being free. His mocking cry—“I got that white girl!” repeated as if to glory in his hatred—was captured on recording. His criminal record was not a secret; he had been arrested multiple times before. Yet the system, whether through negligence, cowardice, or ideological blindness, had allowed him to walk free until he found another victim. Iryna’s blood was spilled not only by the hands of a murderer but by the failures of magistrates who refused to wield the sword as God commands. Her killer should never have been in a position to take her life. Yet our society, intoxicated with the false compassion of leniency, tolerated his presence until her death exposed the folly.
When we look at these tragedies side by side, we see the different faces of the same rebellion against God. Charlie’s murder reveals how ideological fanaticism, when unchecked, leads to bloodshed. Iryna’s murder shows how criminal recidivism thrives when magistrates neglect their charge. In one case, evil was emboldened by cultural lies that cast truth-tellers as villains. In the other, evil was emboldened by a justice system that treats crime as inconvenience rather than treason against the image of God. Both victims now lie silent, but their blood cries out, as Abel’s did, from the ground (Genesis 4:10).
And what does that blood cry for? It cries for justice. From the covenant with Noah onward, God has established that murder must not be tolerated. Genesis 9:6 states plainly: “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image.” Murder is not simply the unlawful taking of life; it is a direct assault on the God who gave life and who stamped His image upon man. To wink at murder is to mock God Himself. To delay justice is to allow blood guilt to fester in the land. Israel was warned repeatedly that if blood were not avenged, the land itself would be defiled (Numbers 35:33). And yet here we are, a land dripping with innocent blood, shrugging at the cries of the slain.
Romans 13 tells us that the magistrate is the servant of God, the avenger who bears the sword not in vain. That sword is not given for ornament. It is given to punish the evildoer and to protect the righteous. Yet in our age, the sword is often dulled, sheathed, or replaced with soft words about rehabilitation and systemic oppression. We have traded the sharp edge of justice for the rubber blade of bureaucracy. And the result is predictable: ideologues with guns feel free to silence their enemies, and predators with rap sheets feel free to hunt their prey. Without the fear of justice, lawlessness multiplies.
Our nation’s cowardice toward evil is cloaked in the language of compassion. We are told that we must “understand” the murderer’s broken childhood. We are told that repeat offenders must be given yet another chance to reform. We are told that ideological violence is the product of oppression, not rebellion. But true compassion does not excuse evil; it confronts it. True compassion does not release wolves among sheep; it restrains the wolves with the sword. To pity the murderer while neglecting the victim is not mercy—it is cruelty dressed in the garb of kindness.
Consider again the killer of Iryna Zarutska. His prior arrests were no mystery. His violent tendencies were known. Yet the magistrates, whether through incompetence or ideological blindness, loosed him again and again. And when he finally shouted his racial hatred and struck her down, the cowardice of a system that refuses to purge evil was exposed. Her death was not only his crime but theirs. They bore the sword in vain, and the land is stained with her blood.
Consider again Charlie Kirk’s assassin. The ideology of transgenderism is not content to coexist with dissent. It demands affirmation. It demands silence from critics. It demands compliance at all costs. And when Kirk refused to bow, he was marked as an enemy. The assassin’s gun was merely the last tool in a long chain of cultural coercion. The blood that was shed testifies not only to the wickedness of one man but to the godlessness of an entire movement that deifies rebellion and despises truth. To call this anything less than ideological violence is to miss the point.
These are not isolated tragedies. They are symptoms of a deeper disease: our nation’s abandonment of public, righteous justice. We have hidden justice behind closed doors. We have delayed it until its teeth are gone. We have excused crime in the name of compassion and silenced truth in the name of tolerance. And now we are reaping what we have sown. Innocent blood runs in our streets, and we wonder why wickedness grows bold.
But God has not left us without remedy. The Scriptures are plain: justice must be done swiftly, publicly, and righteously. Deuteronomy 19:20 explains that justice must be seen so that others “hear and fear.” Public sin demands public reckoning. To hide punishment from sight is to teach society that evil is negotiable. To carry it out openly is to remind society that God is not mocked. This is why, historically, communities carried out justice in the public square—not as bloodlust, but as solemn recognition that evil must be purged visibly to protect the innocent and to honor God.
We recoil at such ideas today because our culture has been discipled by sentimentality rather than Scripture. We confuse vengeance with justice. We imagine that to execute a murderer is to hate him. Yet Scripture shows the opposite. Justice is not hatred but love. Love for the victim, whose worth is upheld. Love for the community, which is safeguarded. Love for righteousness itself, which mirrors the character of God. To ignore justice is to despise love. To carry it out faithfully is to love in truth.
So what must we do? As the church, we must first pray. We must pray for the families of Charlie Kirk and Iryna Zarutska, that the God of all comfort would be near. We must pray for repentance even for the murderers, for God’s mercy is not beyond reach even for those who have committed the vilest of crimes. But our prayers cannot end there. We must also raise our voices to proclaim the truth. We must remind a cowardly culture that justice is not optional. We must call upon the magistrates to fulfill their charge—to wield the sword not in vain, to act not in rage but in righteousness, and to act publicly so that others may learn to fear.
The blood of Charlie Kirk and Iryna Zarutska cries from the ground. It cries not for speculation, not for excuses, not for politics, but for justice. If we are silent, then their blood will testify against us. If magistrates refuse their duty, then their blood will condemn the land. Only by public, righteous justice can the cries of the slain be answered. Anything less is an abdication of responsibility and an invitation for further bloodshed.
The hour is late, and the land is stained. Yet God’s Word still speaks with clarity. The magistrate bears the sword for such a time as this. And the church must not falter in calling the culture back to the righteousness of public justice. If justice is not restored, then the blood will continue to flow. If justice is carried out, then others may hear and fear, and perhaps by God’s mercy, the tide of lawlessness may be restrained.
The stories of Charlie Kirk and Iryna Zarutska are tragedies, but they are also warnings. They remind us that evil is real, that it grows when unchecked, and that only God’s standard of justice can hold it at bay. The blood cries from the ground. May the magistrate hear it. May the church proclaim it. And may God Himself bring righteous judgment upon the evildoer, until the day when Christ returns to set all things right.
Leave a comment