At Charlie Kirk’s memorial service, Vice President JD Vance made a striking confession: “I was telling somebody backstage that I always felt a little uncomfortable talking about my faith in public as much as I love the Lord, and as much as it was an important part of my life. I have talked more about Jesus Christ in the past two weeks than I have my entire time in public life.” Later that evening, Jesse Watters responded on his program: “I am the same way. And that was a beautiful thing.”

Both men were sincere—and their honesty hit me hard. Because in their words, I hear the same struggle that has gripped the church at large. We believe. We love the Lord. But we hesitate to speak His name. And this raises the piercing question: why would we refrain from sharing Jesus? Are we ashamed of Him? Most Christians would answer, “Of course not!” And yet, silence tells another story. We fear awkwardness, rejection, or judgment. We tell ourselves faith is “personal” or “private.” But Jesus never called us to a hidden faith. In Mark 8:38, He said plainly, “Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him will the Son of Man also be ashamed when He comes in the glory of His Father with the holy angels.” That’s not optional. That’s eternal.

James 1:22 reminds us to “be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.” Doing the Word means living and speaking it openly. Jesus’ Great Commission in Matthew 28:19 is not passive—it’s a command to “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” When Christians muzzle themselves, the world fills the silence with lies. That’s why society feels so lost and confused—because the voice of truth has been replaced with noise. Outreach isn’t a program, and it isn’t an occasional event. It’s the very definition of Christianity lived out. Paul wrote in Romans 1:16, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” If the gospel is power, then silence is surrender.

The early church spread because believers spoke the name of Jesus everywhere—at markets, in homes, before rulers, and even in chains. They didn’t have to be eloquent. They simply had to be faithful. Talking about Jesus should be as natural as talking about the weather, your children, or last night’s ballgame. The problem isn’t that the world has changed too much—it’s that the church has changed too little. We’ve learned to whisper Christ while the world shouts sin.

But this is not the time to retreat. This is the time to live what we claim to believe. If Christ is King, then His name belongs on our lips as much as in our hearts. Charlie Kirk’s death shook many, but JD Vance’s words gave us a mirror. If men in power feel uncomfortable saying the name of Jesus, then the church must lead the way in boldness. Outreach begins not with events, but with everyday conversations—with neighbors, coworkers, and family members. It begins when we decide we will not be ashamed.

The world is desperate for truth. People are drowning in confusion, brokenness, and despair. If we won’t speak Christ, who will? So let’s stop hiding. Let’s go. Let’s do. Let’s make His name normal again. Because silence isn’t humility. Silence isn’t wisdom. Silence is surrender. And surrender is not what Jesus died for.