Last night I went to see the movie Guns and Moses. It’s in town for only one more day (at Apple Cinemas in Hooksett), and I think you should see it before it’s gone.
Here’s the teaser from IMDB: “A beloved small town rabbi in the high desert becomes an unlikely gunslinger after his community is violently attacked.”
Don’t see it because it’s topical, or timely, or important, or because you have an opinion one way or another about anti-semitism, or guns. See it because it’s good. Even the gun handling is solid. Apart from finding a role for Gal Gadot in there somewhere, I can’t think of a single thing I would change about it. I don’t remember the last time I felt that way about a movie.
So what does this have to do with Charlie Kirk? Without giving too much away, a leader in the local Jewish community gets shot. People are confused and angry about what happened, and why, and what the response should be. And in the midst of all that, what you think is going to be an outraged call for revenge turns into something quite different — a plea from the rabbi for everyone to go out and honor the victim by doing the kinds of good deeds that he will no longer be around to do.
On the way to the movie, I learned that Charlie Kirk had been killed. I was confused and angry about what had happened, and why, and what the response should be. And in that moment, I thought, the rabbi nailed it: We should honor Charlie by doing the kinds of things that Charlie isn’t around to do anymore. Namely, making a point of listening to the people who disagree with us, taking what they say seriously, and remaining cheerful and polite while using facts and logic to explore our differences.
As Thomas Jefferson said of Ben Franklin when taking over as ambassador to France: “No one can replace him. I merely succeed him.”
No one can replace Charlie Kirk. But we can all succeed him.
Movie Trailer
