Who are you to judge who lives grace and who doesn’t? 
One of my closest friends died in Africa two years ago while serving as a missionary. Would you say that he “lived grace”?
You know, when someone who was a genuine criminal is spoken of as though he were some sort of St. Francis of Assisi, courageously standing up to the powers that be, a good reminder of who he really was and what he actually did can do no harm.
Especially when the prevailing narrative is so distorted that even in countries like ITALY (!!!), there are people who genuinely regard the waste of oxygen I mentioned earlier as a pious man courageously fighting against an evil, corrupt, and Pharisaical religious establishment.
The prevailing narrative is utterly skewed (but then again, Luke 6:26, so no surprise there), and a little reality check every now and then certainly does no harm.
Because watching an utter scoundrel and CRIMINAL being hailed as a veritable man of God becomes increasingly grating over time especially for someone who knows a thing or two about history.
One puts up with it, and puts up with it, and puts up with it—but eventually, there comes a point when enough is enough, and one simply has to point out that treating a pig as though he were a saint doesn’t make him any less of a pig. Because that’s what he was: A PIG.
That is precisely what he did when he called for the destruction of others, invoking the very name of Christ to justify the persecution of the Jews.
I can forgive him. Indeed, the fact that I still wish salvation even for someone I regard as such an utter waste of oxygen means that I wish salvation for everyone, because there are very (VERY) few people in the entire history of humanity whom I personally consider less deserving of it than him.
But forgiving someone does not mean condoning his actions, nor does it mean refusing to acknowledge their devastating consequences (consequences that, unfortunately, I believe will endure until the end of time, hopefully I will be proven wrong, but I don’t think I will unfortunately).
To love God and our neighbors. And to me, loving God also means respecting what He has left us. And what He has left us is far more than just a “book.
Well, alas, we can’t all aspire to the extraordinary heights of Christian love exemplified by those saintly Reformers, can we?
Luther, in particular, had such a heartwarming way of expressing his love for the Jews: burning their synagogues, demolishing their homes, confiscating their possessions, and driving them out of the country. Truly, a shining example of Christian charity.
I imagine Heinrich Himmler would have found much to admire in that particular interpretation of “love.”
And as for good old Martin and Reinhard Heydrich in Nazi-occupied Bohemia and Moravia—well, one can only imagine the fascinating theological conversations they might have had about the finer points of loving one’s neighbor.
Ah, those saintly Reformers. Such paragons of Christian charity! Unlike the paganized and evil Catholic Church.