Death and the Blogger

 

                It’s rude to wish for anyone’s death or to rejoice at the incident of said death.  Most Americans believe this.  I hope all Christians believe this.  But it is difficult to dodge those happy thoughts when the person in question was a particularly evil person.  Somehow, it just seems right to be happy that person is gone.

                I began mulling over this topic while listening to our pastor speak about Judas Iscariot.  He offered his opinion that Jesus may have been giving Judas one last chance to change his mind when he warned all the disciples that the one who betrayed him would have been better off never being born.  Kind of a reversal of the It’s A Wonderful Life idea.  I’ve never heard anyone even hint at a kind word for Mr. Iscariot before, so this caught my attention.  I must give him his due.  He was one of the twelve, so he must have had potential.  He must have had some good intentions.  He must have started out as the others, caring about the things of which Jesus spoke.  We have some indication he was concerned about the less fortunate of the world.  And truthfully, what was his motive for turning against Jesus?  I think he considered Jesus a good man, but harmful for the cause of violently breaking the Roman stranglehold on Israel.  His heart was with the downtrodden, but he wanted to do things his own way.

                It came to me that there are some historic figures who I have never mourned.  Obviously, Adolf Hitler was the first to come to mind.  Is there some reason I shouldn’t be pleased, if not happy, at the demise of such an evil life?  How that of Idi Amin?  Or maybe Pol Pot?  I checked the Internet for various Top Ten Most Evil People In History lists and found many duplicates, most of them Hitler’s Nazis, and several so-called doctors who conducted unspeakable experiments on prisoners of war.  I know there are always people who don’t see these obvious examples as evil, but instead revere them.  I am confident, however, they are a very small, insignificant number. 

                But I did observe on these Top Ten lists, names that would be contested by many people around the world and from different generations.  Josef Stalin came up several times.  Osama bin Laden, George Bush, Oliver Cromwell, and Mao Tse-tung were on some of the lists.  Even Justin Beiber made one list.  Yet, there are literally millions of people who see each of these men as heroes, not villians.  Trying to maintain an open, objective mind, I can understand why there is so much disagreement concerning names like these.  We are all bent toward various political, social, economic and religious points of view.  We use different filters on our moral microscopes, resulting in seeing people quite differently.  So, how does one decide who is evil and who is a hero?  Who should be mourned, and whose death should be celebrated?

                Some solve this dilemma by seeking the lowest common denominator of human existence.  There has to be some good in everyone.  We are all just products of our societies, our cultures, our families, and our chemistries.  There is no evil, just misguided good intentions.

                That doesn’t really work for me.  I know from my own life that the millions of choices I had to make were completely mine.  I knew, from as far back as I can remember, there was right and wrong, and what constituted right and wrong, even if I didn’t see it lived out in my family or whatever subculture I was in.  When I finally paused long enough to ponder the big questions about good and evil, I found that Jesus explained what I had long known inherently.  The apostle Paul wrote, “For since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities…have been clearly seen…so that men are without excuse.”  That certainly applied to me, an un-churched kid from a dysfunctional family. Evil isn't an excuse, it's a choice.

                So, this week I began reading about people who were thrilled to hear of the death of Hugo Chavez.  Many were Venezuelans  who had left the country, claiming Chavez was a horrible despot. Their filter was an accumulation of personal experiences.  Others were politicians who, predictably using political filters, expressed their glee more subtly.  I’ll admit, I wasn’t sorry to hear of his passing.  Upon reflection, I suppose that was because of my filter, which is heavily influenced by what I hear and read.  I didn’t have any particular animosity toward him either, just a general belief that he was not a good guy.  Then I became aware of some people who spoke kindly of the man.  I certainly expect that from people of the same political, religious or economic viewpoints, but coupled with ponderings about Judas and the rest, I gave this more attention than I probably would have otherwise.

                The arguments I heard mostly focused on Chavez’ pure intentions and observable behavior where the underprivileged were concerned.  Neither of these are without controversy, since nobody can know another’s secret motives, and there is much anecdotal information from eyewitnesses who saw two different men in Chavez, a evil dictator and a benevolent champion of the poor.  I don’t know that I care enough to spend much effort or time trying to find the real Hugo Chavez.  I’m sure some Hollywood producer will soon be happy to lay claim to that knowledge.  What interests me is people’s reactions to his death.  In particular, my reaction.  Should I be glad?  Should I mourn?

                At the risk of being trite, I believe I should be sorrowful about every loss of life.  For some, because I will miss them on a personal level. For others, because I don’t know for sure where they will spend eternity.  For others, because I am afraid I do have a pretty good idea where they are headed.  Even Judas’ death ought to at least be acknowledged as a sad end to the life of one of God’s creation.

                Chavez’ death falls into that category of a vast pool of people who are only names to me.  Okay, maybe a little more than just a name, but certainly not someone who has occupied my mind or has earned my affections.  But I am a little sad, as Hugo was a creation of the Almighty God, and he doesn’t make mistakes.  We supply those for him.

                What a dark blog!  I promise to be slightly more upbeat next time.