Becoming Unoffendable

Share this post
S eems like there’s plenty to be upset about these days. You could choose from combative politics, overfishing the oceans, government waste, or the rise of radical Islam. The list of things we might consider offensive is a long one. Moreover, we’re also likely to be distressed when our personal world gets rocked by friction with those closest to us. Those offensive interchanges are especially painful and often confusing. And beyond that, it’s possible to be on the receiving end of disparaging remarks from a broader circle of people, some of whom we don’t even know. Put succinctly, it’s not that uncommon to be offended. Opportunities abound!
Writing for The Atlantic, Arthur Brooks observes,
Unless you inhabit a hermit cave with no internet access, you’ll know that we live in the Age of Offense. With high levels of polarization and innumerable ways to broadcast one’s every thought to strangers far and wide, it is easier than ever to lob insults and to denigrate ideological foes.
It’s not a matter of if but when we’ll wander into the crosshairs of abrasive comments or cruel intentions. After all, as Brooks notes, we live in the Age of Offense. That means there are those doing the offending and those being offended. And we’ve all done at least a little of both. But when we get offended, it’s impossible to control the offender, so we must instead pay careful attention to our own response as the offended party.
Offenses appear in many forms; careless words, hostile actions, and cruel intentions are just a few. When it comes to being the recipient of an offense, some people respond with resiliency while others seem to be offended by almost anything no matter how trivial.
Offenses appear in many forms; careless words, hostile actions, and cruel intentions are just a few. When it comes to being the recipient of an offense, some people respond with resiliency while others seem to be offended by almost anything no matter how trivial. The current derogatory word for one who withers under most offenses is snowflake—a slang term for a person who has an inflated sense of being special or unique, is easily offended, and melts under evaluation or criticism. While I lack the research data on this, my hunch is that a snowflake, when left unchallenged, may eventually morph into a Karen or a Kevin—individuals whose self-appointed right is to police the behavior of others through finger pointing and yelling to enforce conformity to their trifling eccentricities.
When we’re offended, pressure can build in us like the subterranean forces of a volcano. We’ve all felt those feelings. So, let’s start by being honest about those rumblings inside of us before they blow.
First, when offended, we’re likely to feel hurt. And those hurts are real, so real that they form deep gashes in the heart. Some of us, when recalling hurts from others, can remember the exact words of the offender, their facial expressions and gestures, and even the clothes they were wearing in the moment. And some hurts even open old wounds by ripping off the scab from previous offenses.
The old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” is meant to bolster confidence and create resilience. But let’s be honest; the sentiment is a lie. Of course words hurt. Verbal assaults against us are not always easy to shake. Those kinds of offenses often create a lasting impression.
But, in addition to feeling hurt when we’re offended, we can also resort to anger. Anger is a way of striking back when we feel attacked through an offense. With anger we can experience an emotional rush. We might even enjoy being angry since it reminds us we’re alive. Perhaps C. S. Lewis was onto something when, tongue-in-cheek, he observed, “Anger’s the anesthetic of the mind, it does men good, it fumes away their grief.”
Anger is epidemic in our culture. It broods and simmers and lies in wait, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Maybe we’ve grossly underestimated anger’s destructive influence.
Anger is epidemic in our culture. It broods and simmers and lies in wait, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Maybe we’ve grossly underestimated anger’s destructive influence. The words of Dallas Willard ring true when he says, “There is nothing that can be done with anger that cannot be done better without it.” No wonder God urges us never to let a day end without tending to our anger (Eph. 4:26).
If ignored, anger can degenerate into contempt which naturally results in a desire for revenge. Popular movies know how to play to our thirst for revenge. Moviemakers create a character we find distasteful, even repugnant. As the movie progresses so does our loathing for this individual. Then the tables turn on this evil antagonist. Sweet justice! I’ve been in a movie theater when the bad guy gets it, and the entire audience erupts in applause and cheering. What’s that all about? I’ll tell you what that’s about; we need counseling!
Jesus’ ways are different from our natural instincts. He didn’t come to coddle us in our sinfulness. And He didn’t come to give us moral tips for a better life. Instead, Jesus came to radically upend our way of life—to turn over the tables of respectable religion.
Jesus’ ways are different from our natural instincts. He didn’t come to coddle us in our sinfulness. And He didn’t come to give us moral tips for a better life. Instead, Jesus came to radically upend our way of life—to turn over the tables of respectable religion. Notice the revolutionary ideas in Jesus’ words when He says,
But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you. (Matt. 5:44)
When confronted with Jesus’ description of this aspirational ideal, we might wonder if this is what we signed up for. These are not pious platitudes, but a description of a radical life—a life turned upside down for the glory of God. Of all people, those of us who follow Jesus should be confidently and refreshingly unoffendable.
Proverbs 19:11 (NET) reminds us that,
A person’s wisdom makes him slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense.
Overlooking an offense is not only possible but also results in a kind of glory for the one putting God’s objectives into practice. I like the way Derek Kidner describes this power of overlooking an offense in this verse. Patience instead of anger, he says, “brings out here the glowing colours of a virtue which in practice may look drably unassertive.” Put another way, to respond like that seems passive. We’re so accustomed to a culture that retaliates. To overlook an offense appears strangely foreign to human nature. That’s because it is.
But overlooking an offense involves more than gritting our teeth and pretending nothing happened. Offenses are real. We need to name them as damaging, then move beyond them by extending grace and forgiveness to the offender. Grace is giving someone what they don’t deserve. And forgiveness is the choice to cancel the debt of one who has wronged us. With both grace and forgiveness, we need help from God.
Stripped naked, hanging on a cross, His hands and feet pierced with giant nails, and a thorny crown plunged into His scalp, Jesus hung on display for all who passed by to see, even taunt. Humiliation. Abandonment. The weight of the world’s sin. Yet Jesus, in that excruciating moment, utters an astounding prayer for His tormentors, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing” (Lk. 23:34).
Here’s my own short story: I have been offensive toward God and others. I have been given grace and forgiveness from God. Why would I withhold grace and forgiveness from one who has offended me? With miles to go, I’m still learning that extending grace and forgiveness helps me become unoffendable.
The church at Corinth was a messed-up church. Divisions, sexual immorality, lawsuits—a church where offenses were normal. Into that mess, the Apostle Paul introduced a remarkable alternative to these believers fighting for their own way. Paul suggested that sometimes it’s right to be wronged (1 Cor. 6:7). When we take it instead of retaliating, we may begin to more closely resemble Jesus. When we’re wronged, it’s not the end of the world. A willingness to sit in a wrong done to us, without insisting on revenge, can be a sign that we really do trust God. He has our backs, our reputations, our futures. And somewhere in the process, we grow to learn that we don’t have to defend ourselves—an exhausting and never-ending exercise any way you look at it.
As I began to learn more about what it means to be unoffendable, I wanted to write a declaration of my intent to lean into this preposterous idea. I wanted to articulate what my heart told me was true even though my behavior was lagging far behind. I titled the piece, Unoffendable. I share it here in the hope we can all grow in Christlikeness by becoming unoffendable.
I choose to be unoffendable. I’m free. Free to love. Free to show grace. Free to forgive.
I choose to be unoffendable. Secure in Jesus with nothing to prove. No reputation to defend. No reason for insecurity.
I choose to be unoffendable. Alive in God’s Spirit. Comforted, led, empowered.
I choose to be unoffendable. A life upended. Sensibilities offended. Yes, to this invitation to absurdity.
I choose to be unoffendable.


