Stop Judging Grief: A Reflection on the Attacks Against a Grieving Widow

+JMJ+ In the days since Charlie Kirk’s tragic passing, something deeply disturbing has unfolded, not just the loss itself, but the viciousness directed toward his wife, Erika. The very people who claim to love Charlie, claim to honor his legacy, claim to be devoted to Christ, are spending an astonishing amount of time doing the opposite.

If people care so much about Charlie and his family, they’re doing a remarkable job of proving otherwise. Some people are behaving horribly. They’re tearing his wife apart, spreading gossip, and nitpicking every breath she takes. They are showing the exact opposite of love, loyalty, or respect.

If these same people love Jesus so much, claim to be his disciples, and claim they want to be the light in this world… they sure are showing otherwise.

Grief Is Not a Straight Line

If there is one truth we seem to forget over and over, it’s this:

Everyone grieves differently.

Everyone copes differently.

Everyone survives differently.

Grief is not clean. It is not predictable. It is not logical. One minute you feel steady enough to stand, to speak, to function, and the next minute you feel like you are falling apart. That is normal. That is human.

And when someone is thrust into tragedy publicly? When the world is watching? When millions of strangers are examining your every facial expression, outfit, comment, and breath? That is not grief in an “average” sense. That is grief under a microscope.

Few of us will ever know what it is like to mourn the loss of a spouse whose face, name, and voice were recognized by millions. In a very real way, Erika has had to “share” her husband with the world, and now she must share her grief, too.

Nothing can prepare you for that. 

The Devil Wants This

Let’s be honest: the devil delights in this kind of chaos.

He delights in division. He delights in turning Christians against Christians. He delights in suspicion, gossip, slander, cruelty, and the destruction of someone’s character.

The devil does not need to tempt us with dramatic sins when he can lure us into pride, judgment, jealousy, and cruelty. He thrives when people sit behind a screen and tear someone apart under the illusion of righteousness.

Sadly, Christians (who should be the first to extend compassion) are often the quickest to judge.

Grief Takes Many Forms 

Grief is unpredictable. It doesn’t follow rules, and it doesn’t look the same from one person to the next.

Some people grow quiet. Some stay busy.

Some talk. Some withdraw. Some look strong on the outside while breaking on the inside. Some seem to fall apart immediately, and others fall apart months later.

There is no correct sequence. There is no “right way” to mourn or a universal blueprint.

The truth is, not everyone copes in healthy ways. Some people shut down emotionally. Some try to drown the pain with distractions, overworking themselves, or anything that might quiet the ache for a moment. Grief can make even the most grounded people behave in ways they never imagined.

But here’s the point: if Erika were falling apart, people would criticize her. If she’s holding herself together, they criticize that too. If she speaks, she’s judged. If she stayed silent, she’d be judged.

It doesn’t matter what she chooses right now because it seems there is always someone who tries to twist it into something ugly.

That is the cruelty of public grief.

I Have Lived It

People love to act like they’re experts on someone else’s suffering. However, unless you’ve walked through real, life-shattering trauma, you simply cannot know what another person’s grief looks like from the inside.

And even if you have walked a similar road, you still cannot assume you understand another person’s heart. We’re all different. We all respond differently. We all survive differently. Grief is personal, intimate, and messy. When the world is watching, it becomes even more complicated.

I remember standing in the choir loft at church at my brother’s funeral only days after he died, playing Ave Maria on the violin. By the grace of God, I pulled myself together and gave it my all. I can’t even begin to describe how difficult and painful that was, but I did it to honor my brother. That was my gift to him. 

I remember giving interviews after the trial of my rapist. All I wanted was to hide from the world, but I made the decision to go public because I didn’t want other survivors to think they were alone. I was numb and grieving. I did it while begging God for strength to get through each sentence.

And I still asked for privacy. Being public about one thing doesn’t mean your whole life is up for inspection.

Who Are You to Judge?

So again, I ask: who are you to judge someone who is grieving?

Who are you to declare:

“She doesn’t look sad enough.”

“She looks too put together.”

“She’s not mothering correctly.”

“She’s not honoring him correctly.”

“She must not have really loved him.”

Who are you to assume motives? Who are you to spread gossip as if it were truth? Who are you to paint a grieving mother as manipulative or insincere?

It is not Christian. It is not charitable, and it certainly isn’t reflective of anything that honors Charlie’s life.

This Is Not a Normal Situation

Charlie was not an anonymous man living an anonymous life. Whether people loved him or hated him, he was known by millions.

That means millions have opinions about his death. Millions have opinions about his family.

Millions imagine they have a right to comment.

There is nothing normal about grieving in the public square. There is nothing normal about having strangers watch your pain and decide whether it meets their expectations. There is nothing normal, or humane, about what Erika Kirk is enduring. There is nothing normal about the fact that her husband was murdered in cold blood.

A Tragedy Is Still a Tragedy

In times of shock and sorrow, human beings scramble to make sense of the senseless. So they:

• gossip

• speculate

• create conspiracy

• fill in blanks

• invent motives

• project their fears

• cling to narratives that give them a false sense of control

We need to remember that tragedy doesn’t follow logic. Loss (especially sudden loss) rarely makes sense.

Choose Kindness Instead

For now, there is only one truly Christian response:

Stop judging.

Stop gossiping.

Stop attacking.

Stop assuming you know more than you do.

Try kindness. Try prayer. Try silence. Try compassion. Try practicing some discipline and show a little self-restraint both on social media and in your everyday conversations.

Whether you have walked someone’s tragic path or not, you are never justified in tearing apart a grieving heart.

If you truly loved Charlie Kirk or if you claim to love God, start acting like it. The light of Christ does not look like cruelty. It does not look like judgment. It does not look like gossip, speculation, or tearing someone down who is already carrying a cross that none of us would ever want.

A Christian who mocks or slanders a suffering person isn’t shining the light of Christ. They’re casting shadows. If the loudest voices “in Jesus’ name” are voices of condemnation toward the brokenhearted, we have profoundly misunderstood the gospel we claim to believe.

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Lord,

In a world filled with noise, division, and cruelty, teach us to be people of compassion. Calm our hearts when we are tempted to judge. Purify our intentions when we speak. Guard us from the traps of gossip, suspicion, and the distortions of the media.

Bring comfort to all who are grieving especially those who mourn under public scrutiny, where every expression and decision is examined and criticized. Give them strength for today, and hope for tomorrow.

Heal what is broken in our culture, in our families, and in our own hearts. Make us instruments of your peace in a world that is hungry for truth, for justice, and for kindness.

Amen.