The Cost of Free Speech and the Cost of Discipleship

The shocking assassination of Charlie Kirk while speaking at a public event is a sobering reminder that words are not free. We often talk about “free speech” as a protected right, but history shows again and again that exercising that right can carry enormous personal cost. Whether we agree or disagree with Kirk’s politics, his death highlights the dangers of living publicly by conviction.

This tragedy brings to mind another voice from the past: Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian who wrote The Cost of Discipleship. Bonhoeffer challenged Christians not to settle for “cheap grace”—a watered-down faith that demands nothing and risks nothing—but instead to embrace “costly grace,” the kind that requires obedience, sacrifice, and even suffering. For Bonhoeffer, true discipleship meant following Jesus to the cross, whatever the price.

We know at first glance itself Kirk’s assassination and Bonhoeffer’s execution are the same. Both challenged the existing arena of politics and culture, the theological conviction and faith under Nazism, and post post-Christian framework. At their core, both reflect the same mission: the courage to live and speak out of deep conviction, no matter the cost. Whether through public debate or prophetic witness, both remind us that truth-telling is costly, and standing firm against opposition is the shared path of those who refuse to be silent. Charlie Kirk paid with his life for his willingness to speak publicly in a polarized world. Bonhoeffer paid with his life for resisting Hitler and remaining faithful to Christ. Both defended free speech in the public square and defended costly grace in the kingdom of God. The contexts differ, but the principle is the same: convictions are never cheap.

Bonhoeffer reminds us that discipleship is not an add-on to life’s comforts. He wrote, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die.” That death may not always be literal, but it will cost us something—comfort, reputation, acceptance, or even safety. Similarly, Kirk’s story shows us that even in societies that prize freedom, there are risks when we step into the arena of public discourse. Legal protections do not shield us from hatred, violence, or rejection.

So what does this mean for us today? It means we must take seriously the weight of both our speech and our discipleship. If we speak truth, we must do so with courage and humility, knowing it may cost us dearly. If we follow Jesus, we must do so with our eyes open, understanding that He asks for all, not just the convenient parts of our lives.

Free speech without responsibility is reckless. Discipleship without cost is hollow. But when we combine courage with conviction, truth with grace, and boldness with humility, our lives become salty—flavorful, preserving, and impactful in a world desperate for both meaning and hope.

The question is not whether following convictions will cost us. It is whether we will be willing to pay the price. Charlie Kirk’s death and Bonhoeffer’s life are a grim reminder, and both show us the eternal perspective: what we lose for Christ or for truth, we gain a hundredfold in the life to come.

Charlie Kirk once said that he wanted to “find and encourage 1,000 Dietrich Bonhoeffers.” He knew that following Christ comes with a cost—but he also believed that legacy outlives death. You die twice, he said: once when you pass, and once when your name is no longer spoken. By that measure, Charlie’s life will echo for generations.