A weathered wooden fence receding into soft focus across a quiet yard, with warm golden light on one side and cool shadow on the other.
Faith

Why Offense Is the Enemy's Most Effective Trap Against Your Faith

Faith Promise Church
·
October 20, 2026

One in eight American families have stopped speaking to each other over politics. Not over abuse, not over betrayal, but over disagreement about people most of those families will never meet. That statistic is a small window into something larger. Offense works like a fence. Once it goes up, you are cut off from the people on the other side, and over time you are cut off from almost everyone.

Think of the word picture. You get offended by someone, so you put up a barrier between yourself and them. But that barrier also stands between you and God, because the same posture that refuses one person refuses the One who commands you to love that person. Then God tries to reach you from a different angle, and you put up another fence. And another. Eventually the only people who still fit inside your walls are the ones who are offended by the same things you are. You wake up lonely and angry and cannot figure out why.

How offense quietly dismantles the two greatest commandments

When a religious lawyer tried to trap Jesus, he asked which commandment was greatest. Jesus answered with two. Love God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:37-39). Everything else in scripture, he said, hangs on those two hooks.

If you were an enemy of that kind of love, where would you attack? You would not argue theology. You would simply get people offended. An offended heart cannot love God well, because resentment crowds out worship. An offended heart cannot love its neighbor well, because every neighbor is now a suspect. Offense is efficient. It takes out both commandments with a single move, and it rarely feels like sin while it is happening. It feels like being right.

That is why living unoffendable is a spiritual discipline and not a personality trait. Some people are naturally easygoing, and that is a gift, but it is not the same thing. The discipline is a trained refusal to let what other people say and do decide the state of your heart.

A modern condition that makes offense feel like a virtue

Our anger feels like it is evolving. We are quick to speak and quick to burn, and the platforms we live on reward exactly that. The attention economy runs on outrage because outrage holds your eyes, and a screen that holds your eyes is a screen that sells more ads. This is the kind of liturgical formation James K.A. Smith writes about, the way repeated habits quietly shape what we love and hate. Scroll long enough and your reflexes get trained. You learn to read every post for the thing to be offended by, because that is the thing the feed keeps handing you.

So when you feel perpetually irritated, you are not simply failing at patience. You have been formed by a machine built to keep you agitated. Naming that is the first step toward refusing it.

Jesus's own brother diagnosed the problem long before social media. "Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry," James wrote, "because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires" (James 1:19-20). Read that last line slowly. The anger you are carrying, even the anger that feels most justified, does not produce what God wants. It does not make your marriage warmer or your kids easier to disciple or your neighbor more likely to see Jesus in you. If it does not produce what God wants, it has no business living in you rent-free.

Here is a sobering detail from the Gospels. Across Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, people asked Jesus roughly 183 questions, and he answered only a handful directly. He asked far more questions than he was ever asked. The Son of God spent most of his conversations listening. Listening is what tears a fence down before it gets built. You cannot stay offended at someone whose story you are genuinely trying to hear.

What to do with the fence you already built

Pick one person you have quietly fenced off. The relative you stopped calling, the coworker you avoid, the friend who said something years ago that you still replay. This week, go to that person and do the one thing offense forbids. Ask them a real question about their life and then listen all the way to the end of their answer without preparing your rebuttal. You are not conceding the argument. You are refusing to let the argument stand between you.

Unoffendable people are the only ones free enough to love their neighbor as themselves. That freedom starts with a single fence coming down.

Watch the original message

From this sermon

Watch on YouTube →
← Back to Blog