One year ago, on September 10th, 2025, Charlie Kirk was assassinated. Twenty-five years ago, the United States was attacked by terrorists on 9/11.
I will not attempt to wax eloquently about what these events mean for us today and what civic life is like in America in the wake of these evil atrocities. While these events stand out on their anniversaries, there are many other horrific events that could be mentioned. These events cause us, not only to mourn, but for some reason, draw out some of humanity’s most glib and transgressive comments, as well as irreverent speculation.
This kind of speculation pays little mind to whether a theory is really true, or if the supposed conspirators will ever be brought to justice. It revels in unfalsifiable claims, assertions that can never be tested or disproven with evidence.
Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that, even in the midst of actual evidence that Islamic extremists hijacked the planes on 9/11 and that Tyler Robinson was the lone shooter in Kirk’s assassination, this kind of speculation abounds around these events.
It’s one thing to speculate about Area 51 and ancient mysteries, but it is quite another to gleefully entertain theories about people being involved in the assassination of their spouses and tens of thousands of Americans plotting the deaths of their fellow citizens.
To entertain this kind of speculation is to cheapen and trivialize reality—something entirely antithetical to the Christian faith and biblical Scriptures.
1 Corinthians 15:12–19 is often used as a classic case for apologetics, as it should be. But recently, it struck me that Paul’s logic, which he painfully makes clear in this passage, can serve as a useful guide around speculative theories.
For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.
If Christ is raised, it is such good news that we can—and should—weather distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, and sword, because nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:37–39). If Christ is not raised, our sufferings in his name are worse than meaningless, they’re pitiful.
Throughout Scripture, when historical events are being discussed, they are of tantamount importance. Unlike pagan myths that often focus on the universal principles of a story, there is a weightiness to Scripture’s treatment of history. The validity of our very faith depends wholly on God’s particular actions in time. We are not people of speculation.
It’s not a leap, then, to say that when we encounter speculation about historical events, it’s not something Christians should take lightly.
This doesn’t mean people can’t question “established narratives,” but it does mean that glib comments suggesting innocent parties are guilty or that guilty parties are innocent have devastating consequences, not only on the fabric of society, but in the callusing of one’s soul.
But this is an uphill battle for Christians today. The proliferation of social media, AI slop, the memeification of everything, has made reality cheap. It has made us believe that there are no consequences to our irreverent speculation, let alone for our actions.
When you see videos of men being murdered, hundreds of people jumping out of the windows of the Twin Towers and falling to their deaths, news of people on trial for murder—mediated by videos that you can scroll past on your way to find a recipe for dinner or a funny skit—what you tell yourself about these things matters. It’s more than ok for finite creatures not to know the ins and outs and facts of every tragedy in the world. But when we give our minds and affections over to speculative comments, even ones with millions of views and thousands of likes, we are at risk of devoting ourselves to teachings that “promote speculations rather than stewardship” (1 Tim. 1:4).
We might not believe there are consequences to entertaining these kinds of theories, but Paul does. He clearly sees irreverent speculation about unfalsifiable theories as antithetical to the pursuit of godliness. Christianity is a public religion that shows deference to eyewitness testimony. It knows nothing of secret revelations. It warns against false teachers that “promote speculations.” It warns against these teachers because, “The aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith. Certain persons, by swerving from these, have wandered away into vain discussion, desiring to be teachers of the law, without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make confident assertions” (1 Tim. 1:5–6).
Just as “irreverent, silly myths,” have nothing to do with training oneself for godliness (1 Tim. 4:7), the historicity and truth of the events of Christ’s resurrection has everything to do with training oneself for godliness. Indeed, when Paul says to “train yourself for godliness,” he encourages us to cling to the saying that is “trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance. For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe” (1 Tim. 4:9–10).
If the aim of Christian teaching and doctrine is “love,” the consequence of irreverent speculation is indifference, indifference not only to the fact that behind the speculation and theories are real people with real lives in real life and death tragedies, but indifference to the magnitude of the gospel. That news that is “trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance.”
And if our faith is grounded on this trustworthy news, we should, along with Paul, shirk at the sayings of talebearers, and all of the “irreverent, silly myths” that distract us from “a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.”
