RIP, “Hulk” Hogan: A Word on Mourning, Mercy, and the High Road of Grace

The world recently lost a man who lived life in capital letters—“HULK” HOGAN—a name that, for many, defined childhood cheers and larger-than-life battles. He was many people’s first experience with professional wrestling. But now, the red and yellow is folded, the music faded, and the man behind the persona—Terry Bollea—has passed on. As with many public figures, reactions to his death have been mixed. There are those who honor his legacy, and there are those who relish the scandals. There are those who grieve, and those who critique. There’s a difference between a public persona and a private man. But for us, the people of God, this is a moment not to shout, but to mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15)—and to speak truth seasoned with grace.

I won’t routinely comment on current events, but this blog has lots of wrestling references, and there is behavior going on connected with the Hulkster’s passing that warrants admonition. I won’t rehash Hogan’s public misdeeds, his place in (highly polarizing) U.S. politics, etc. (To anyone adversely affected by things the deceased said, particularly a certain word, we are called to forgive as Christians. No one said forgiveness is easy.) Anyone who has ever had someone close to them leave to be with the Lord knows that a person’s family is hurting, and that no one needs to read mean-spirited comments about the departed. My earthly father worked in education, and his role gave him his share of enemies over the years. I have been blessed that since his passing, everyone who has chosen to share something about him online (that I have seen) has been nice. No one needs to be reminded, in the hour of grief, of the worst moments of someone they loved. Death is not the time for internet righteousness. I only bring it up because, tragically, the top comment on a People magazine article about him is (and I ask the Hogan family to skip ahead past this): “Good riddance. The world will be a slightly better place.” 

Some people have the misfortune of having the worst thing they ever did broadcast to the world, and that should sober us all because the Bible says the Last Judgment may as well be just like that for the unbeliever. Proverbs 5:21 is clear that He misses nothing:

“For your ways are in full view of the LORD, and he examines all your paths.”

Attempts to make yourself feel better by belittling a disgraced public figure, or that weird kid in the corner, etc., are what the Accuser does, not what we are called to do.

Jesus doesn’t just forgive us to make us feel better. He saves us from the terrifying reality of standing alone before a holy God with the whole reel playing behind us. And as John 3:18 says:

“Whoever believes in Him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already.”

The gospel is not about measuring how much better one man is than another. It’s not our job to speculate about the eternal state of the dead. It’s not about what we’ve done (because we would all fail miserably), but about what a perfect job Jesus did when He saved us (See Hebrews 10:14 as often as it takes). So, let’s be careful not to speculate about someone’s eternal destination. Paul warned us:

 “Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend into heaven?’ (that is, to bring Christ down) or ‘Who will descend into the deep?’ (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead).” — Romans 10:6-7

That’s not our lane. We leave eternal judgment in the hands of the only One that judges justly. People speculate whether a believer seen stumbling publicly is really a believer, but here’s the truth: All believers mess up—often. James 3:2 says, “We all stumble in many ways.” 

However, there is no trailer for the movie of our sins in the coming attractions. We took the deal. Our judgment was already taken by Christ. We were beaten down, helpless, and selling our expressions of pain and agony to the audience like Ricky Morton, but we reached out for the hot tag to the Alpha and the Omega (not Kenny), the King of Kings, and He cleaned house. The Accuser has no evidence of our past or future sins; the ledger that could have stored them is gone.

“He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code… He took it away, nailing it to the cross.” — Colossians 2:13–14

“I will remember their sins no more.” — Hebrews 8:12

“Whoever hears My word and believes Him who sent Me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life.” — John 5:24

If we are blameless in the sight of God (Colossians 1:22), then we know He will never blame us. It’s simple logic. We don’t really know what happened between Hogan and God, just like we don’t really know about anyone else’s relationship with God, so I’d like to see the public speculation stop, especially from those who claim to be believers. When people who knew him, like Sting and Mick Foley, speak with grace and affection, letting old water pass under the bridge, we would do well to listen. We don’t do this to dismiss the past, but to recognize that a life is always more than its headlines and that we are all hopelessly in need of God’s grace.

An example that I find commendable is a send-off from a former co-worker of Hogan’s, AEW commentator Tony Schiavone. Schiavone (who delivered the fictional line “Hulk Hogan, you can go to Hell!” as a part of a show in 1996) said that Hogan was the man who brought professional wrestling to the mainstream in the 1980s, before stating that he was the man who not only put WCW on the cable television map, but also lit the fire under WCW that would ultimately catapult them to their success during the Monday Night Wars. Notice that he never mentioned the competing organization where Hogan used to work (nor did he take this opportunity to air grievances about current issues like alleged contract tampering, etc.); he kept his comments limited to shows which aired on the same networks that AEW does today. Schiavone went on to say that for as big and larger than life as many wrestlers are, they are still human, and have family and friends who care about them very much. He sent his condolences to Hogan's family, his two children Brooke and Nick, and his wife Sky, on behalf of All Elite Wrestling (where Hogan never worked, but kindness costs nothing). Schiavone was a reasonable human; he said that if you have ever lost a family member of your own, you will know the pain that Hogan’s family are currently experiencing. Schiavone concluded by saying on behalf of everyone in AEW, "RIP Brother." He was positive where he could be, given his current role, and he was silent otherwise.

So what do we do, as born-again children of God, with our new hearts, new spirits, and the Holy Spirit living in us? Deep down, we want what God wants, and we don’t want what God doesn’t want. What do we do when the world mourns someone complicated? When a larger-than-life figure passes and his legacy prompts both praise and pain?

We take the high road.

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” — James 1:19

We mourn with those who mourn, even if we didn’t cheer for them in life. We don’t defend sin, but we also don’t make a sport of judgment. And if anyone questions why we won’t pile on, we point them not to Hogan—but to Jesus—the only name that can deal with sin, scandal, shame, and eternity.

In the end, every knee will bow. And the mercy we show now might be the glimpse of Jesus someone else needs; it may point to the road someone else takes to salvation.

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