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.
