Unoffendable: How Just One Change Can Make All of Life Better (updated with two new chapters)

by Brant Hansen

It’s the taking of offense, and the very presumption that I’m somehow entitled to be angry with someone, that I’m talking about. Surely there’s got to be a place for “righteous anger” against someone, right? Surely there are times we are justified in our anger . . .

We humans are experts at casting ourselves as victims and rewriting narratives that put us in the center of injustices.

And yet, remarkably, in Jesus’ teaching, there is no allowance for “Okay, well, if someone really is a jerk, then yeah—you need to be offended.” We’re flat-out told to forgive, even—especially!—the very stuff that’s understandably maddening

Anger is extraordinarily easy. It’s our default setting. Love is very difficult. Love is a miracle.

Colossians 3:8: “But now also put these things out of your life: anger, bad temper, doing or saying things to hurt others, and using evil words when you talk” (NCV).

Whatever anyone’s done to me, or to anyone else, I stand just as guilty. People have lied to me, but I’ve lied too. People have been unfaithful to me, but

I’ve been unfaithful too. People have hurt me, and I’ve hurt them. I get angry toward murderers, and then here comes Jesus, telling me if I’ve ever hated someone—and I have—I am the murderer’s moral equal.

In other words: Everybody’s an idiot but me. I’m awesome.

The writer recognized that, yes, anger may visit us, but when it finds a residence, it’s “in the lap of fools” (Eccl. 7:9).

Being offended is a tiring business. Letting things go gives you energy.

Truth is—and you already know this—most of the time, whatever it was that we were taking personally, it really didn’t have to do with us. Some people are rude or selfish or whatever, and we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens. We can take it personally if we want . . . but why?

people—all people—thrive on being offended.

Jesus is, on the cross, saying, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

We have no idea what is in someone else’s heart. We don’t know the backstory. We don’t know what’s happening in his mind. We don’t know how her brain works. We think we do, sure, but we don’t.

God knows others’ private motives. We don’t. God knows our private motives. We don’t. We think we can judge others’ motives. We’re wrong.

We all think we’re good, moral people, but we need to humble ourselves and re-think.)

Oh yes, the heart is deceptive. And that calls for humility above all else, because my heart isn’t deceptive because it fools other people. It’s deceptive because it fools me.

Forgive in the big things and the small things. Don’t take offense.

He “calls those things which do not exist as though they did.”

“unoffendability” frees us to love people in risky but profound ways.

Jesus is this way with the most morally embarrassing people. You can’t find a single story in the Bible where He’s so disgusted, so scandalized by someone’s moral behavior, that He writes him off. It just doesn’t happen.

Jesus wouldn’t even let hypocrisy, betrayal, backstabbing, lying, and abandonment stop Him from loving Peter.

Yes, God sees things we don’t. We can risk loving people—incredibly difficult, insulting people—because He loves us.

That person you find so offensive? Somehow, God sees something there. Something you don’t. Ask Him what it is. Maybe He’ll show you. I bet He wants to.

Perhaps a big part of being less offendable is seeing the human heart for what it is: Untrustworthy. Unfaithful. Prone to selfishness.

And once again, it turns out, people are judgmental and self-righteous by default.

I’ve had to adjust

my expectations and stop being offended.

Look, you have free will, and you can be perpetually shocked and offended. But be honest: I...

Yes, the world is broken. But don’t be offended by it. Instead, thank God that He’s intervened in it, and He’s going to restore it.

When you see, in the midst of all this mess, beautiful glimpses of God’s kingdom, defined by love, breathe it in.

When He says to get rid of anger, to serve others, and to die to ourselves, it’s in our best interests to obey. He knows how we can thrive.

What about not just getting mail there, but actually living where you live?

Kids leave schools and change classes. People change churches and never see one another again. But where you live? Now, there’s a bit more there, there.

We have to actively choose a way to live, because otherwise, we’ll simply get swept along: hurried, stressed, status-driven, easily angered, and opting for madcap busyness without even knowing why.

You know what else requires a lot of energy and isn’t very restful? Quitting jobs. Ending relationships. Moving.

It’s tiring to have to work through difficulties with people.

I think God is really just looking for spiritual people. That’s what He’s always been looking for. He will handle the rest. He wants a people who long to know Him, rest in Him, and love Him.”

American church culture, generally speaking, does not encourage this sort of restfulness.

We have nothing to prove, and when we really believe that, we’ll hardly be quick to anger.

God wants us to drop our arms. No more defensiveness. No more taking things personally. He’ll handle it. Really.

Quit thinking it’s up to you to police people and that God needs you to “take a stand.”

Quit thinking you need to “discern” what others’ motives are. And quit rehearsing in your mind what that other person did to you.

I’ve tried resisting God’s clear command to forgive as He has forgiven me,

This gavel, the one I awarded myself—who knows why?—is really, really heavy.

gratitude and anger simply cannot coexist.

We struggle with trusting God to mete out justice. We’re afraid He won’t mete out justice, that people won’t get what they deserve.

Anger makes me think I have a right to hold the stone.

“That person I’m angry with? I’m worse.”

I was just doing what immature humans do, and that is thinking it’s my job to put people in their place.