Michael

Quick Facts

• Role: Real-life exemplar and friend of the author, Brant Hansen
• First appearance: Chapter 3, in the story of the AIDS research benefit and art exhibition
• Setting: Evangelical coffee-shop owner in a progressive, arts-focused neighborhood
• Core themes: The Choice to Be Unoffendable and Grace and Forgiveness, expressed through the love of Jesus
• Faith orientation: Confident trust in God
• Physical description: None given; he is defined by actions
• Key relationships: The local arts community; a Wiccan business owner; the author/narrator

Who They Are

On the page, Michael is less a portrait than a presence. We never learn what he looks like, only what he does—refusing to meet cultural tension with outrage, he chooses proactive, disarming hospitality. In a space primed for conflict (an evangelical running a shop in an arts district), Michael embodies the book’s thesis: offense is optional, and love can reframe the whole conversation. His quiet conviction turns potential battlegrounds into welcome mats, offering a lived picture of unoffendable faith that privileges people over winning arguments.

Personality & Traits

Michael’s character is steady, not performative. He doesn’t avoid provocative situations; he walks into them with generosity, trusting that kindness speaks more loudly than defensiveness. His traits show conviction in action, not mere sentiment.

• Radically hospitable: When told his new building had hosted an annual AIDS benefit, he not only kept the event there—he paid for the catering, bought the wine and hors d’oeuvres, and hosted like a maître d’.
• Unoffendable by choice: Rather than scrutinize the art or audience for offense, he dignified the event itself, signaling that people mattered more than policing boundaries—even when other Christians expected a fight.
• Loving and affectionate: He’s known for hugging everyone, including a nearby Wiccan shop owner openly disdainful of Christians; his affection is warm enough to disarm suspicion.
• Bridge-builder: He flips the community’s script—from expecting eviction to receiving a red-carpet welcome—breaking stereotypes and creating relational trust.
• Confident in his faith: He talks freely about the goodness of God, convinced that people are “yearning for a God like that,” so he doesn’t need outrage to prove his devotion.

Character Journey

Michael is a deliberately static figure: the person who’s already living the book’s challenge. The arc unfolds around him. In Chapter 3, the arts community anticipates rejection, bracing for the familiar cycle of offense and counteroffense. Michael interrupts that cycle—offering the venue, footing the bill, and serving guests himself. Suspicion melts into gratitude, and a would-be culture war becomes an evening of shared humanity. His consistency—public generosity matched by private warmth—catalyzes change in others: artists revise their assumptions about Christians, a Wiccan neighbor admits he’s different, and readers receive a practical blueprint for unoffendable love.

Key Relationships

The Local Arts Community Initially, organizers expect to lose their traditional venue under an evangelical owner, assuming conflict is inevitable. Michael reverses the expectation by hosting the event with extravagant, hands-on generosity, converting their guarded skepticism into surprised admiration. The relationship becomes a proof-of-concept: hospitality can do what argument rarely manages—build trust.

A Wiccan Business Owner She dislikes Christians, but Michael’s posture complicates her categories. He greets her with unembarrassed affection—hugs, kindness, no strings—so her disdain makes an exception for him. The dynamic shows how personal, nonjudgmental love can open doors that debate keeps closed.

The Narrator (Brant Hansen) To the author, Michael is both friend and living thesis. His story anchors the book’s claim that outrage is unnecessary and unhelpful; Michael’s steady presence gives the argument skin and bone. The narrator leverages Michael’s example to invite readers to exchange being “right” for being redemptive.

Defining Moments

Michael’s defining scenes aren’t speeches; they’re choices that cost him something—money, reputation, or the satisfaction of self-righteousness.

• Keeping the AIDS benefit in his building (Chapter 3): He refuses to evict the event, signaling welcome where rejection was expected. Why it matters: It dismantles the anticipated “us vs. them” narrative and reframes the church’s posture toward outsiders.
• Paying for the wine and hors d’oeuvres: He underwrites the celebration rather than merely tolerating it. Why it matters: Generosity turns permission into hospitality; he invests in the community’s good.
• Hosting in a tuxedo, serving strawberries: He and his wife greet guests at the door, embodying service over control. Why it matters: This visual flips power dynamics—Michael doesn’t dominate the space; he blesses it.
• Hugging the Wiccan shop owner: Daily affection, not event-night theatrics. Why it matters: Consistent, personal love proves his unoffendable stance is a habit, not a one-off performance.

Essential Quotes

“Michael said no, they wouldn’t need to do that. They could still have the event in his building. They were welcome... Michael told him that not only were they welcome, but he’d pay for all the catering. He’d buy the wine and hors d’oeuvres.” This moment rejects mere tolerance for costly hospitality. By absorbing the logistical and financial burden, Michael reframes the relationship as gift rather than grudging allowance, which invites genuine connection instead of transactional coexistence.

“Instead of being evicted, by Christians, from the best location for the exhibit, the artists were welcomed. Michael and his wife met everyone at the door. He dressed in a tuxedo and offered everyone chocolate-covered strawberries.” The tuxedo and strawberries are symbolic—lavish, unnecessary flourishes that communicate delight. Michael’s attention to human dignity, not doctrinal policing, becomes the most persuasive apologetic in the room.

“He told me he would just talk to people about the goodness of God, because he knew, deep down, that everyone is yearning for a God like that.” This line exposes Michael’s engine: confidence in God’s attractiveness. If people are already longing for goodness, then outrage is counterproductive; love clears the static so the signal can be heard.

“Christians in the community wanted Michael to be offended, to draw another line in the sand. You’re supposed to get angry, and maybe even picket those kinds of people. Michael fed them strawberries.” The contrast is stark: protest signs vs. strawberries. Michael’s response refuses the politics of offense and opts for the politics of grace, embodying the book’s thesis with a plate instead of a placard.