On Sunday, Oct. 5, about 250 people gathered at the gazebo in my hometown to pray for America and honor Charlie Kirk, who was assassinated on Sept. 10. Pastors and youth ministers addressed the crowd, leading them through invocations directed mainly at the country and government, with a praise and worship band leading attendees in song between the prayers.

Other than declarations like, “Our real enemies are the powers of darkness,” the prayers and the music ringing out in this tiny park celebrated God while asking for blessings and wisdom for government bodies like Congress, the Supreme Court, and our armed forces. Young and old joined together in these petitions that grace and blessing be shed on the country, and that wounds might be healed.

One young woman, Noelle Beachy, a barista and sometime manager at a local coffee shop, told me that she had come to support her church and her faith. When asked about her prayers for the country, she replied: “To find God and to find peace. We all need peace these days.”

William Eckert, a 31-year-old – the same age as Kirk – was there with his two young children and wife, who was carrying their third child. “I saw him as a spiritual figure,” Eckert said of Kirk. “His first and true mission was spreading the Gospel.” Eckert’s prayers for the country were that “we find repentance and come back to the Word of God.”

Like Eckert, one woman who came to the microphone praised Kirk – “You declared boldly your Gospel” – and then, speaking of Divine Power, said, “You are the only one who can take ashes and turn them into some beautiful … He gives beauty for ashes.”

Just three days earlier, vandals had ripped apart a memorial to Kirk in a nearby town, tearing up a banner and spray painting “Burn in Hell” across a large picture of Kirk. Yet the event at my local gazebo proceeded without incident or protesters, watched over by an officer on foot and police cars occasionally slipping past the park.

This day brought me three gifts of comfort and hope.

First, the people who coming together to pray belonged to that class so often forgotten or deplored by D.C. politicos, the hardworking folks who love God, their families, and their country. They worshipped with songs and prayers of hope, and without rancor at Kirk’s murderer or those who reveled in his death. These mechanics, secretaries, moms and dads, grandparents and teens, are the salt and light of the world found in Matthew 5:13-14.

Moreover, they represented only a small portion of the millions who in the past three weeks had joined hands across the country through worship to honor Kirk’s faith and to find in his murder the inspiration and courage to become more like him. Citing Colossians 4:2, one minister prayed that Kirk’s death and the Christian faith of those assembled “would open a door for our message,” enabling others to see the light of Christ and change their hearts.

A final moment of hope came not at the prayer rally, but in my home later that evening. While washing dishes and straightening my books and papers, I listened to a podcast, “The Left is collapsing,” by Sydney Watson, whose work was unfamiliar to me.

Though I’d listened to clips of crazies celebrating Kirk’s assassination, observing them pour hatred and obscene bile on him, his family, and his followers, for the first time I saw Democrats expressing disgust with these vicious attacks. Beginning at about 8:20 on the time track, voters, young and old, expressed revulsion with the leftist kooks who are leading them to abandon the party altogether. These are sane Democrats, and I suspect there are millions more, few of whom make the news. “The left has gone so far to the left that people have become right by standing still,” Watson says.

In “Why Calling Charlie Kirk A Martyr Matters,” James Preus points us to the words of that early church father, Tertullian: “The blood of Christians is seed.”

Good hearts for prayer coming together across the country, a blossoming of faith and patriotism, and minds capable of change: these are seeds of hope and revival in our nation.

Unlikely as it may be, springtime this year arrived in September.

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The republication of this article is made possible by The Fred & Rheta Skelton Center for Cultural Renewal.

Image Credit: Picryl