They Hate You Because You Didn’t Climb: The Offense of Being Raised by Grace.

Don’t hate on me, go get you some. 

There’s something deeply offensive to the self-righteous about someone who got lifted without using their ladder. Religion is built on ladders—manmade steps, performance-based holiness, external image maintenance. It thrives on spiritual hierarchy. But when someone shows up who was raised by grace, not by the system, not by their effort, not by affiliation, it insults the very scaffolding that others spent their lives building. And the scandal isn’t that you’re higher. The scandal is that they were never elevated to begin with. They never left the ground.

Jesus wasn’t too high to come down to the prostitutes, the broken, the rejected. He didn’t flinch at their presence—He embraced them. He dined with tax collectors. He touched the untouchable. He talked with the discarded. And here’s the thing: the only people who ever thought Jesus was “too high” were the ones who thought they were already high enough themselves. That’s what offended them. He came low to meet the lowly, and they couldn’t stand it because they had spent their entire lives climbing a ladder made of laws, titles, and appearances. And yet, He didn’t validate a single one of their steps. He simply bypassed the whole thing. That kind of grace is always a threat to those addicted to spiritual achievement.

I’ve realized that about myself and what I’m doing now. The moment you accept the transfusion of Christ—the blood, the cure, the transformation—you stop being a project of religion and become a product of resurrection. And people hate that. Not the sinners. Not the addicts. Not the ones the world discarded. I’ve always gotten along with the ones labeled as “too far gone.” They’re not offended by the truth. They’re hungry for it. It’s the ones who think they’ve already found it that want to shut your mouth. It’s the ones who’ve confused their indoctrination with elevation who try to drag you back down into the dirt of their delusion. Because when you speak from heaven, it reveals that they never left earth.

It’s not that my words put them down—it’s that my position exposes they were never raised. And they can’t accept that. So they accuse me. They say, “You think you’re better than us.” But no—I never claimed that. I’m not better. I’m just resurrected. I was raised into a new creation by the blood of Jesus Christ. I didn’t climb here—I died to get here. And now I sit where the sons of God sit: in heavenly places. If you’re still on the ground, still performing, still pretending, still defending manmade righteousness, then don’t accuse me of being better—just admit you never rose.

This is the core offense of grace. It reveals that all the work you did to appear holy was always an act. That you were always on the ground. That the robe you wore was self-stitched and not heaven-issued. That the prayers you performed were echoes, not communion. And so when someone shows up who carries actual truth, actual power, actual anointing—without the endorsement of the system—you hate them for it. But what you really hate is the evidence that resurrection doesn’t require your permission.

The truth is simple: Jesus comes low so He can lift. But He doesn’t lift those who pretend they’re already standing. He raises the dead, not the proud. He fills the empty, not the full. He heals the infected, not the masked. And if that insults your pride, then your pride was your god all along.

So when people say, “You think you’re better?”

My answer is this:

I don’t think I’m better. I know where I am.

I’m up here with God. You’re still trying to build your own tower.

Which do you think is better?