Charlie, Me, and LGBT: Christ died for all of us.

Image: Benjamin Morse

Benjamin Morse reflects on Charlie Kirk’s approach to gay and transgender issues, recognising their differences but emphasising Kirk’s humanity, respect and willingness to dialogue.

At a funeral in Paris last week, a friend remembered his mother as a “meticulous dilettante”. In that phrase and in seeing how her creative passions mirrored my own, I recognised how much we had in common. Not in everything, for she was not a believer. But at her graveside, where she once buried a 4-year-old and a 2-month-old daughter, the Lord let me share her grief. 

Meticulous dilettante is a fitting euphemism to relieve my sense of inadequacy for being theologically so unsystematic. Despite my studies in Old Testament, I have had little training in actual Christian theology. I have dabbled in Barth and Bonhoeffer and covered significant chunks of Kierkegaard as well as some Catholic philosophers. How I think about God and the Word feels largely piecemeal, formed by sermons I heard, things my parents said, and just plain living.

Prior to 2021 I would have dismissed him as a fundamentalist who hated gay people.

I therefore hesitate to pick holes in Charlie Kirk’s traditional interpretation of Scripture, though he would have invited me to. Prior to 2021 I would have dismissed him as a fundamentalist who hated gay people (I don’t much believe in a gay or LGBT “community”). It took willingness to let go of prejudice, listen to him and, in the wake of online misrepresentations, write now in his defence.

In one clip from his latest campus tour, a “transgender male” student asks at what age children should be able to receive hormones. Kirk promptly thanks her and then says he is going to share an opinion others are not likely to offer: 

“I want you to be very cautious putting drugs into your system in the pursuit of changing your body. I instead encourage you to work on what is going on in your brain first. I think what you need first and foremost is just a diagnosis, someone that is going to listen to what you have gone through, what else is going on. My prayer for you [is] to see you be comfortable in how you were born.”

The young woman agrees and he continues, “With the right team and the right people, you don’t have to wage war on your body. You can learn to love your body.”

In another clip a man asks what Charlie would tell his child if they came out as trans. “No honey, you are a girl,” he would say. “I don’t affirm delusions. You do not affirm what is harmful or what is not true.” Which is one answer to the question “What would Jesus do?” 

In still another, a gay conservative asks how he should respond to classmates who chastise him for that apparently oxymoronic identity. The exchange goes as follows:

“First of all, welcome to the conservative movement. I don’t think you should introduce yourself based on your sexual attraction, because that’s not who you are.”

“Exactly. I like to be thought of as a person.”

“For sure. You are a complete human being and I’m sure you treat people well and you’re studying something. So I want to get away from this idea that you’re gay ‘anything’.” What someone does or doesn’t do in the bedroom, he adds, is just a part of who they are, not all of it.

As the kind of Christian Kirk was, he didn’t agree with my “lifestyle”. But in contrast to close friends who have gone no-contact or called me brainwashed, he would have broken bread with me.

This is the man whose death legions of schoolteachers, care workers, and BlueSky addicts have been celebrating, calling him every possible contemporary synonym for Nazi. As the kind of Christian Kirk was, he didn’t agree with my “lifestyle”. But in contrast to close friends who have gone no-contact or called me brainwashed, he would have broken bread with me. He supported and respected a rainbow of others, from black gay influencers and Jewish power lesbians to Asian politicians and single mothers.

He knew the Bible is multivocal rather than monolithic. He was an evangelical but attuned to the spirit over the letter of the Law.

As for the infamous soundbite about stoning gays, it helps as always to listen to the whole conversation rather than suck on the teat of hysteria. He referenced the Levitical verse to counter someone raising “Love thy neighbour” from the same book. His point was that anyone can select quotes to justify a political position, but we need to weigh all of Scripture to find a higher truth. He knew the Bible is multivocal rather than monolithic. He was an evangelical but attuned to the spirit over the letter of the Law.

When it comes to having the ability to quote the right verse at the right time, I am nowhere near Kirk’s league. More like an unmeticulous dilettante. Nevertheless, as a Christian who happens to be gay, I aspire to establish commonality rather than demonise those I disagree with. This is in fact what Kirk aimed for in his debates—that and to share the glory of God. 

Never could I have imagined weeping at the sight of a Liberty University vigil, but here I am. In the kingdom of heaven, Charlie is my brother.


Benjamin MorseBenjamin Morse
Read Benjamin’s first article for LGB Christians which includes his biography, Paradise Calling: Inclusive Church and the Masquerade of Good Intentions.  Read his subsequent pieces including an interview with Diarmaid McCulloch.

Listen to Benjamin speak about his journey from activism to Substack satirist in a full hour interview with Matt Osbourne of The Distance.  It includes encounters with trans activists, jailtime with BLM chauvinists, and unfiltered thoughts about living openly as a gay Christian.

Follow Benjamin on Substack