What Grace Really Means

Saying that we all gods, that all our sins, past, present, and future are forgiven may feel offensive to many because we like to think we’re better than the next person, and we certainly don't see ourselves as gods even though Jesus Himself said it. How can we be placed in the same category as a thief, a murderer, or a prostitute when we’ve kept ourselves ‘holy’ for decades?

That’s the ego speaking, not the real you—the inner identity, your true self. It’s like a rich person saying, “How can I sit next to a beggar or a homeless person? I'm way too important and successful to share a table with a beggar." Sitting next to a beggar won’t take away your wealth; it won’t erase your millions in the bank or make you a beggar.

Knowing that a murderer is forgiven doesn’t make you any less holy or forgiven of your own sins. Besides, there is no minor or major sin. That’s why Scriptures say, ‘All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God’. But by grace, we are justified from all our sins.

Grace is a hard truth for the self-righteous to accept. The part of the ego that tells us we’re better than others tries to analyse and dissect it to fit in its mould, complicating it when it's in reality very simple. It is a free gift—not for the good or righteous, the successful, the hard-working or the well-behaved, but for everyone.

Grace is the best thing that could ever happen to humanity.

The ego thrives on comparison—on being holier, richer, or more deserving. But grace isn't about deserving. It shatters those illusions, reminding us that no one stands above another in the eyes of divine love.

Paul said in the scriptures that he was ‘crucified with Christ.' Some people have labelled him a narcissist because of some of the things he said. This could be one of them. He went on to say, 'It's no longer I who lives but Christ...'

Not long ago, I had a dream that reminded me of those very words. I was in a hospital ward when I saw an elderly woman lying in bed, trying to lift herself up. She looked so frail, my first instinct was to rush over and help her.

I asked my son to find a nurse for assistance. As I stood watching and waiting for assistance, the woman straightened up, sat up, and then stood tall and strong. I was amazed. Was she pretending to be frail, or had a miracle just happened? She didn't look anything like the woman I had seen a minute ago.

Looking closer, I realised the woman was me, an older version of myself. She walked towards me, and suddenly I was her. When the staff arrived, we went for a stroll in the garden. The garden was vast, filled with tall trees that seemed to stretch for miles. On the trees were swings swaying in the wind, but they were too high to see clearly. As soon as I wondered what they were, my vision zoomed in, and I saw babies in them.

I wondered who would put babies in swings so high up in the trees. Were they even breathing? It didn’t look like they were. A wave of sadness swept through me, but before I could speak, one of the people walking beside us said, “They’re dead.”

I asked why we were being shown dead babies and the person replied, “They’re not babies, they’re your egos.” I stood there in silence, trying to understand, and then I woke up.

The image stayed with me. Though I knew they weren’t real babies, the dream bothered me. The ‘babies’ were in little car seats tied to the trees like swings. They looked as though they had been crucified in their car seats. Later, the message became clear: it was about crucifying the ego. It reminded me of Paul’s words in Galatians 2:20.

 ‘I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.’

This is the thing about the ego, it clings to control. It defines itself by what it achieves or defends. It resists anything that threatens its sense of identity. To the ego, letting go, even of an idea or a belief feels like dying because its strength depends on effort, performance, comparison and competition.

Grace, on the other hand, requires none of these. It simply says, You are already loved. You are already forgiven. You're enough and complete. That truth dismantles the ego’s entire foundation, which is why grace feels so uncomfortable until you’ve learned to trust it.

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