“So what do you think of Charlie?” That’s a question that’s been posed in person and over social media in recent days. To answer that question in a thoughtful way requires some reflection and the freedom to be honest. And of course, it all depends on the Charlie to which you are referring.

There have been a number of Charlies in my life. I had a great-uncle Charlie. I’ve had two cousins by that name. When I was a kid, I was introduced to the on-screen antics of Charlie Chaplin as well as the television comedy of Charlie McCarthy. When I became an adult, a man by the name of Charlie Jolly became a positive role model in my life. And then there is Charlie Kirk. Peace to be his memory!

Quite candidly, I was not familiar with Charlie Kirk until I heard he’d been shot at Utah Valley University during a student rally on campus. Because of my lack of knowledge about the man, I surfed the web to gather information. While I was doing my research, news of Charlie’s death was reported. I was stunned by what I read and what I saw. I grieved for his wife and young children.

In addition to learning details of the tragic circumstances surrounding Charlie’s fate, I discovered that we shared a similar faith background. I realized that I resonated with views Charlie Kirk held pertaining to traditional family values. But I also recognized that there were points of view he held that I do not.

What I most appreciated about Charlie Kirk was his desire for open dialogue among those who share differing opinions about important topics. I was pleased that Charlie championed free speech and the safe environment in which to debate difficult issues. Assuming the First Amendment protected his right to voice his values, he won the hearts of young conservatives by boldly speaking his mind. He refused to cave all the while being accused swimming upstream against the current of popular culture. In his remarks, he left little doubt about what he believed and held dear. And truth be told, that’s troubling to me.

I must confess that I have not always been willing to be as bold in vocalizing my views. Especially, if it means risking rejection. Looking back on my seven decades of life, I have often taken my cues from a couple of other Charlies who are less heroic than the slain conservative activist.

For example, in Charlie Chaplin there is a symbol of someone “penguining” back and forth reluctant to take a firm stand. In the signature wobbling of the silent screen hero, I see my tendency to waffle on what I believe for fear my feelings will not be affirmed. I don’t like that about myself.

And then there’s Charlie McCarthy. Remember him? He’s the puppet made famous by Edgar Bergen, the famed ventriloquist of the fifties. In this Charlie we see someone who couldn’t speak for himself, but relinquished that right to another who put words in his mouth. Like that dummy, I have too often voiced the opinions of others rather that speaking up for myself.

In contrast, there is that other Charlie in my life whose last name always brought a smile to my face. Like his name might suggest, Charlie Jolly had a positive attitude about most everything. In addition, he modeled for me the importance of knowing what you believe and being honest enough and courageous enough to let others know.

Charlie was a brilliant innovator in the early days of information technology. But that was not what I most respected. He approached his life and his faith thoughtfully. He loved Jesus and was committed to the authority of Scripture. He framed his worldview around the timeless truths of the Bible. As I observed Charlie teach adult Sunday school in our church, I was impressed with his boldness and willingness to “tell it” like he saw it.

Like Charlie Kirk, my friend Charlie Jolly died too soon. And like the political activist I never met, my Charlie died the way he lived…. Unashamed. He was willing to speak his mind while listening to those who saw things differently. Don’t you want to be like Charlie?

Guest columnist Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former chaplain at Covenant Living at the Shores in Mercer Island.