How should a Christian feel after a war criminal dies?

Henry Kissinger was complicit in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. Lovers of peace are right to have complicated feelings in response to his own death last week.

When I got news that Henry Kissinger had died, I have to admit, I laughed. That felt wrong because mirth in the face of any death seems wrong. But I could not forget that Kissinger’s actions directly led to the illegal bombing and the deaths of 150,000 Cambodians, and over the course of his foreign policy career, to three to four million other deaths. Kissinger’s legacy led to more indiscriminate bombing of nations and rationalized other war crimes in both administrations like Reagan and Bush’s. Despite this sordid footprint, he is celebrated among the U.S. ruling elite as a war criminal who was awarded the Nobel Peace prize. He lived a long and comfortable 100 years, and I’m apt to forgive myself a chuckle.

Reflecting on his death, and my gut response, I recalled the words of King David in Psalm 37:

Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
 do not fret—it leads only to evil.
For those who are evil will be destroyed,
 but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land.
A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
 though you look for them, they will not be found.
But the meek will inherit the land
 and enjoy peace and prosperity.

David puts the death of the wicked in the hands of God, and does not encourage anger or wrath–which  only leads to evil. His psalm is an indictment of war criminals like Kissinger who, instead of not fretting and being patient, take justice in their own hands and cause tremendous harm. David’s psalm is one of peace–one that assures the meek of their fortune. It also contains a message not to let my anger eclipse my hope, as I reflected on the death of Kissinger.

As I balanced my moment of elation at the death of Kissinger with the awful recollection of the deaths and legacy of deaths he was responsible for, I felt conflicted. As much as I have written about the importance of telling the whole truths of someone’s legacy as we remember their deaths, I still wonder if finding any joy in the death of someone else is laudable or righteous.

Kissinger may have died with a guilty conscience, but no action or words of his suggest any spirit of repentance. Not only does that make me angry, it saddens me as well. The hardest part about a person who did such evil dying is when they offer no remorse for their actions, no attempt to reconcile, or no effort toward reparations. The grief that accompanies the death of a man with such a wicked legacy is about his inability to change and grow. Hope in my tradition is found in transformation, and it is tragic when someone doesn’t choose to change. In the age to come, when the fires of purification complete us all, we will be transformed, enjoying oneness with God. Kissinger will eventually be transformed by the grace of God, though it would have been better for him to move with the Holy Spirit in this life. And it would have been better for the legions of people he heartlessly slaughtered.

But when someone who is unrepentant dies, as sad as it is, I think it is normal to feel some relief. I don’t think that’s a typical Christian response and certainly not one for a pastor. Nonetheless, it’s well known that awareness of our feelings–especially the unflattering ones–can help us control them, rather than the reverse. The Christian commitment to forgiveness and love is central to our faith, but sometimes skipping the step of recognizing emotions can make us more bitter and resentful. If we have no enemies, no enemity, no complications after a war criminal dies, are we truly experiencing the power of grace and forgiveness? What does forgiveness cost us if we never allow ourselves to feel hurt, wronged, or enraged?

I won’t be made to feel bad about holding complicated feelings after Kissinger’s death. And I won’t offer Kissinger more sympathy for his death than I did his hundreds of thousands, nay, millions of deaths. The reason that it feels complicated for a lover of peace after a war criminal dies is that we have a greater commitment to life and its preservation. I am a better peace activist when I allow myself to feel my feelings after a war criminal dies. We can’t love our enemies if we don’t condemn and protest when our country is killing its enemies. Kissinger did that with impunity and systematically, with no remorse, and with an amorality that echoed into the future.

I don’t think there is a “right way” to feel after someone like Kissinger dies. But I do think it is important to feel the feelings we have, and not to spiritually bypass them. The psalmist gives us permission to feel joy, anger, and sadness even after someone like Kissinger dies. We can both hope for transformation and find relief when an unrepentant person can no longer cause harm. We can trust God to bring about repentance and transformation, even if it is between our death and the age to come. As for me, my chuckle at Kissinger’s death reminds me that I want to live and help others live a life that can be mourned. May God’s peace prevail. May the meek inherit the earth.