Look at these clowns.
Look at the procession of the envious. They parade through the streets. They shuffle through the corridors of power with their clipboards and petitions, their algorithms and diversity statements.
They do not build. They occupy what others built. They do not cultivate. They consume. They do not plant orchards whose fruit they will never taste. They inherit, redistribute, regulate, and dismantle.
Their genius is not creation but acquisition.
And you wonder why they hate your life.
The leftist is not a reformer and, despite his claims, is not a seeker after justice. Those are just the masks they wear, the costumes they pull from the rack when the cameras are rolling. Strip away the jargon, the academic scaffolding, the endless appeals to compassion, and what remains is something far older and far darker than politics. It is the ancient sin that looked upon another man’s blessing and whispered:
“Why should he have what I do not?”
It is envy—the corrosive, soul-devouring vice Scripture condemns because it cannot rejoice in what is good until that good has first been destroyed.
They look at the father who works his hands raw to put food on the table. They look at the mother who rises before dawn to pack lunches, read Scripture to her children, and quietly order her home. They look at a family gathered around the supper table, bowing their heads in gratitude before they eat.
They look upon a household ordered by love rather than appetite—a father carrying responsibility without complaint, a mother pouring herself into the quiet work that never trends on social media, children who know both affection and discipline.
Something curdles within them.
It is not admiration. It is not aspiration. It is resentment.
They resent the stability they never built. Marriage was declared oppressive until someone else had one worth preserving. Children were dismissed as burdens until another family’s grandchildren became the picture of a flourishing life.
Faith was mocked as weakness until it became obvious that it alone could sustain a civilization through suffering, sacrifice, and time.
The problem is not that they cannot recognize goodness.
The problem is that goodness accuses them.
Because the existence of ordered, joyful, grateful lives raises a question they cannot bear to answer. Why does this flourish while everything we promised has produced loneliness, confusion, dependency, and despair?
Rather than examine themselves, they attack the standard by which they are measured.
That is the engine of the modern left. Not the pursuit of justice, but the refusal to tolerate the existence of anything that stands as a living rebuke to its worldview. It is not a vision of a better world. It is a scorched-earth campaign against the one they already resent.
They look upon a man who provides, a woman who nurtures, children who honor their parents, churches filled with imperfect people singing truths that have outlived kingdoms, and instead of asking what kind of soil produces such fruit, they reach for the axe.
Let me name what so many refuse to name.
The left covets what it cannot produce.
It looks upon institutions patiently built across generations—marriages that endured hardship, churches that faithfully proclaimed the gospel, businesses built through sacrifice, families bound together by covenant—and because it cannot recreate the conditions that gave them life, it seeks to dismantle them.
This is why every enduring institution must be recast as oppressive. Marriage becomes patriarchy. Fatherhood becomes toxic. Motherhood becomes servitude. Christianity becomes colonialism. Patriotism becomes extremism. Gratitude becomes privilege.
The names change.
The resentment never does.
So they write their think pieces. They file their lawsuits. They train their children—if they have them—to despise their own inheritance. And they indoctrinate yours whenever they can.
They march beneath banners demanding liberation while chaining themselves ever more tightly to the state that promises to deliver it.
Not because destruction satisfies. But because, for a fleeting moment, destruction distracts.
Do not mistake the leftist revolutionary for an idealist.
The idealist builds cathedrals whose completion he will never live to see. He plants oak trees whose shade belongs to his great-grandchildren. He lays foundations knowing others will inhabit what he began.
The revolutionary cannot tolerate such patience.
If he cannot possess the inheritance, neither shall anyone else.
Better ashes than another man’s harvest.
Every piece of legislation that punishes productive families to reward dependency, every curriculum that teaches children to despise the civilization that gave them life, every bureaucratic mandate that strangles the small business while expanding the administrative state, every assault on the authority of parents and the integrity of the church springs from the same poisoned root.
Envy.
Not merely wanting what belongs to another, but refusing to rest until no one possesses it.
They hate rootedness because they have severed themselves from every root. They hate permanence because they have embraced perpetual revolution. They hate authority because they have enthroned autonomy. They hate gratitude because gratitude requires acknowledging a giver.
And above all, they hate the God who refuses to change.
Because His law does not bend to polling data, His righteousness does not evolve with cultural fashions, His judgment cannot be canceled, and His blessings cannot be confiscated by political decree.
The tragedy is that many have become so captive to this way of thinking that they sincerely believe themselves to be virtuous. They imagine they fight for the oppressed while feeding the machinery that reduces people to demographic categories.
They speak endlessly of inclusion while demanding the exclusion of anyone unwilling to affirm their dogmas. They celebrate tolerance until confronted by convictions they cannot tolerate.
You do not have to speculate about motives to see the pattern.
You see it whenever ordinary goodness becomes an object of suspicion. When faithful marriage is treated as a political statement. When fatherhood becomes controversial. When motherhood is pitied instead of honored.
When church attendance is recast as extremism. When family dinners are replaced with government programs. When dependence is praised while responsibility is quietly mocked.
Resentment always follows the same path. First it mocks, then it redefines, then it regulates.
Finally, it destroys.
The leftist is, at bottom, a creature animated by resentment. Resentment becomes his inheritance, his identity, his creed. It is the lens through which he interprets every success, every blessing, every hierarchy, every institution older than himself.
Scripture knew this long before political theorists gave it new vocabulary. Envy is among the works of the flesh because envy cannot create. It cannot love. It cannot rejoice. It feeds only by consuming what someone else has built.
Hold the line.
Build.
Plant.
Marry.
Raise your children in the fear of the Lord.
Worship openly.
Give thanks without apology.
Live the kind of life resentment cannot imitate.
The leftist cannot bear the sight of gratitude because gratitude exposes what envy has spent a lifetime denying—that joy cannot be legislated into existence, confiscated from another man, or manufactured by the state.
So they rage. Let them.
Rage has always been the final confession of envy.
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