The murder of Charlie Kirk, a 31-year-old right-wing activist, puts the spotlight on the kind of faith that Christians profess.

Is it a faith that insults or one that respects? A faith that excludes or one that includes? A faith that shackles the mind or one that makes us truly free?

While we must condemn the murder of another human being, we must acknowledge that Kirk contributed to anger and hate against minorities, all in the name of the Christian faith.

Kirk attributed "too many" mass shootings to transgender Americans, despite contrary findings by the fact-checking website PolitiFact, according to a Reuters report. He called transgender rights "a throbbing middle finger to God." He also believed in the "Great Replacement," a conspiracy theory "that non-white immigrants will replace white citizens," and claimed that Islam is incompatible with Western civilization.

If one's objective is to change the minds of Kirk's supporters, however, it is now futile and even counterproductive to debate his life and legacy.

The fountain of blood that spilled from his neck on Wednesday, September 10, was the game changer that made him a martyr in supporters' eyes. I cannot help but remember a quote from the second-century theologian Tertullian: "The blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians." Martyrdom, in any belief system, can only make convictions stronger. It can build a powerful church -- or a populist cult.

It was the way the Catholic Church grew, from a Jewish sect whose members were fed to the lions 2,000 years ago, to a church of 1.4 billion members that is now one of the most powerful institutions shaping the world.

It is also the way Donald Trump, mourning "the great, and even legendary, Charlie Kirk," wants to make his MAGA ideology eternal.

Denouncing a dead man on social media makes him look like a martyr all the more, "murdered" by critics a million times over. It only adds to his power beyond the grave. It also perpetuates an us-versus-them narrative -- to the profit of big tech which cashes in on anger, and to the delight of autocrats like Trump, who want to divide people so that they could rule the world.

How, then, should Christians respond to the murder of Kirk?

I propose reframing the conversation: Instead of making Kirk an endless topic of debate, why not plant the seeds for more open, more inclusive, and more liberating Christian churches?

The problem stems from a view that faith boils down to a set of rules, especially ones related to sex, and that the Church is exclusive to those who comply with the ABCs. Faith, in this paradigm, is a checklist of doctrinal purity. The goal, after enslavement to sin, is to make the chosen "great" again.

But what are truly the final questions of life?

The Gospel of Matthew (25: 31-46) narrates how the Son of Man, at the end of time, will gather the nations and "separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats." The Son of Man "will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left."

"Then the king will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.'"

The righteous will ask, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?"

"And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

Read that again: "whatever you did for one of these least brothers (and sisters) of mine."

Doctrine, of course, is important, but as the late Pope Francis said in Evangelii Gaudium, "reality is greater than ideas." And respect for the human person -- especially the poor and marginalized -- comes first and foremost.

Francis himself struck this balance, sticking to doctrine while maintaining respect for individual persons. In March 2024, he said that "today, the worst danger is gender ideology, which cancels out differences." But he was the same pope who received transgender Catholics in a 90-minute private audience, even posing for a photo that was later condemned by "pure" believers.

We then turn our eyes to the minorities, the victims of injustice: the LGBTQIA+ community, the indigenous peoples, the refugees, and anyone else sidelined by populist ideology.

The way we treat the oppressed, not merely the way we have sex, provides the ultimate meaning to our Christian faith.

Faith that does justice, in the model of the late Jesuit general Pedro Arrupe, is the antidote to the virulent strand of bigoted Christianity that is now weaponized by populist leaders for political objectives.

Here in the Philippines, I take comfort in the statements issued by Catholic educators to condemn the corruption of billions of pesos in flood control projects.

Adamson University, a Catholic school run by the Vincentians, encouraged students "to be vigilant and vocal" on the flood control mess. "Join mobilizations to demand justice and reject impunity," they said in a recent statement signed by their president, Father Daniel Franklin Pilario, and other university officials.

The University of Santo Tomas Arts and Letters Faculty Association (UST ALFA), led by its president Rene Tadle, called on students, fellow faculty members, and the university management "to stand in solidarity in condemning corruption and demanding accountability."

Citing the teachings of Saint Thomas Aquinas on justice, the UST ALFA said: "This is not only a moral duty but a collective task that requires concerted activity within our campus."

Christian institutions should go beyond teaching the faith in an abstract way, as if memorizing lines from the Bible is enough to make a good Christian. They need to situate the faith in social realities, interpreting the teachings of Christ in a way that respects, includes, and liberates the human person. They need to remember, following Francis, that doctrinal correctness can always be harmonized with pastoral care.

The Christian faith is no place for hate.

We need more people of faith to remind us, in Arrupe's words, "that love of God which does not issue in justice for others is a farce."

After the blood of Charlie Kirk was spilled, the work of planting new seed begins. - Rappler.com