Self-condemnation

We all carry the memories of unspoken words and missed opportunities. The quiet echoes of regret and the whispered reminder that perfection is elusive and regret is a constant companion. So, it’s no surprise that a new poll finds that most Americans are concerned about the road not taken in their lives. And when it comes to regrets, people are more likely to dwell on things they didn’t do than the things they have done.

A survey of 2,000 U.S. adults, which found that only 11% of Americans don’t have any regrets. Among the regrets the majority of us have are the following:

Not speaking up (40%)

Not visiting family or friends enough (36%)

Not pursuing our dreams (35%)

The missed chances to take a once-in-a-lifetime trip

On the other hand, the top actions Americans regret doing include:

Spending money or purchasing something they later regret (49%)

Fighting with friends or family (43%)

Making an unnecessary comment (36%)

32% of baby boomers have a regret that spans three decades and still crosses their minds an average of three times per month. While the oldest regret millennials’ is only about 11 years-old, they fret about it on average almost once per week, more than any other generation.

On the slope of a hill in Camp John Hay, you will find a rather unconventional attraction. Rather than tombs enclosing remains of dead humans, this cemetery is filled with cute tablets with inspiring inscriptions.

The Cemetery of Negativism was established by John Hightower in 1981. At that time he was the commanding general of Camp John Hay, about a 30-minute drive from Baguio City in the Philippines. The cemetery is a symbolic site for burying negativism—emotions, frustrations, attitudes, and thoughts that today we would call “bad vibes.”

At the entrance of the cemetery, a reminder reads, “Negativism is man’s greatest self-imposed infliction, his most limiting factor, his heaviest burden. No more, for here is buried the world’s negativism for all time. Those who rest here have died not in vain—but for you a stern reminder. As you leave this hill remember that the rest of your life. Be More Positive.”

Inscribed on one of the tombs is “Itz not possible. Conceived 11 Nov 1905. Still not Born.” Another tomb says “Why Dident I? Born???? Lived wondering why. Died for no reason.” There are dozens of different shapes and styles adorned with tiny sculptures of animals, flowers, and humans among others. The inscriptions are open to interpretations but the overall theme encourages visitors to open their minds, reflect, and leave the place in a better state than when they came in.

Camp John Hay is a popular tourist destination in Baguio City known for its tranquility, beautiful well-maintained park and gardens, luxurious mountain retreat, and shopping. The camp served as the summer refuge of the Americans from 1900 until 1991 when American bases were turned over to the Philippine government.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The weight of past mistakes can be a heavy burden to bear. Regret and negativity can consume us, leaving us feeling trapped in a cycle of self-blame and shame. However, the Bible offers a message of hope and redemption. Through faith in Jesus, we can experience a transformation of heart and mind. We are given the power to let go of the past and embrace a new life filled with hope and purpose. (Rom. 8:1; Psalm 103:12).

In a recent article in The Guardian, Oliver Burkeman describes how to be liberated from people-pleasing:

“Great news! I found the cure for my anxiety!!” the author Sarah Gailey once announced on social media. “All I need is for everyone I know to tell me definitively that they aren’t mad at me, once every 15 seconds, forever.”

I know how she feels. For years, I possessed a remarkable superpower: I could turn almost any work opportunity that came my way into an unpleasant emotional drama, simply by agreeing to do it.

Once I’d accepted a deadline or signed a contract, there was now another person in the world who might be growing impatient that I hadn’t finished yet, or who might end up disappointed in what I produced. And the thought that they might be harboring any negativity towards me felt hugely oppressive. This same overinvestment in other people’s emotions meant I was always saying yes to things I should really have declined, because I flinched internally at the thought of the other person feeling crestfallen.

It bears emphasizing that the people you’re worried might be angry with you, disappointed in you, or bored by you almost never actually are. The liberating truth is that they’ve got their own troubles to worry about…. As the novelist Leila Sales observes, poking fun at this tendency in herself: “It’s weird how when I don’t respond to someone’s email, it’s because I’m busy, but when other people don’t respond to my emails, it’s because they hate me.”

The liberating truth about life as a finite human is that…you’re never going to please everyone, or do everything, or accomplish anything perfectly. So, what would you like to do with your life instead?

The actor Paul Newman was nominated for 10 Academy Awards and won for The Color of Money in 1987. He also received an honorary Oscar in 1986 and the Academy’s Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award in 1994.

But his life was hardly free of disappointment and tragedy. He wrestled with his drinking, a habit he knew was self-destructive but says “unlocked a lot of things I couldn’t have done without it.” And he was shattered when his son, Scott, who had led a drifting life in his father’s shadow and was receiving psychiatric treatment, died in 1978 at the age of 28.

Decades into his singularly successful career as an actor, Paul Newman offered a frank admission. “I am faced with the appalling fact that I don’t know anything,” he said.

Newman was also dogged by self-doubt, perpetually questioning his choices and plagued by past mistakes. “I’m always anxious about admitting to failure,” he said. “To not being good enough, to not being right.” Newman’s lifelong insecurity is one of the more striking themes to emerge from a posthumous memoir by the actor, titled The Extraordinary Life of an Ordinary Man.

According to Daniel Pink, writing in the Wall Street Journal, regret is the second most common emotion felt among human beings. Pink argues that regret isn’t just common, it’s actually beneficial:

For all its intuitive appeal, the “No Regrets” approach is an unsustainable blueprint for living. At a time like ours—when teenagers are battling unprecedented mental-health challenges, adults are gripped by doubt over their financial future, and the cloud of an enduring pandemic casts uncertainty over all of our decisions—it is especially counterproductive.

I have collected and analyzed more than 16,000 individual descriptions of regret from people in 105 countries. One of them was Abby Henderson, a 30-year-old, who wrote: “I regret not taking advantage of spending time with my grandparents as a child. I resented their presence in my home and their desire to connect with me, and now I’d do anything to get that time back.” Rather than shut out this regret or be hobbled by it, she altered her approach to her aging mother and father and began recording and compiling stories from their lives. “I don’t want to feel the way when my parents die that I felt about my grandparents of ‘What did I miss?’”

Regret feels awful. It is the stomach-churning sensation that the present would be better and the future brighter if only you hadn’t chosen so poorly, decided so wrongly or acted so stupidly in the past. Regret hurts.

Regret is not … abnormal. It is healthy and universal, an integral part of being human. Equally important, regret is valuable. It clarifies. It instructs. Done right, it needn’t drag us down; it can lift us up.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Pink observes that love and regret are the two most common human emotions. Addressing loves and regrets by preaching a cruciform sermon will hit the lived experience of every person in the room, even if their hearts haven’t yet been broken open to a regretless salvation. When regret brings us to repentance and salvation, it is part of being forgiving and being set free from our past through God’s grace.

In his novel Remembering, Wendell Berry tells the story of a Kentucky farmer named Andy Catlett. One warm summer evening, Andy and a group of neighbors are helping a younger farmer bring in a harvest of corn. Andy himself mans the corn harvesting machine.

At one point, the machine jams up and ends up drawing Andy’s right hand into its gears. In the confusion of the moment, Andy describes how he felt that he also had given his right hand to the corn harvester. Later, his wife asks him “What have you done to yourself?” With deep shame he replied: “I’ve ruined my hand.” Andy feels defective, and pushes away the very people that could help him heal and rebuild his life.

Andy Catlett eventually shared the shame of his hand injury with his fellow farmer Danny Branch. Berry's novel describes their relationship: “They learned how to work together, the one-handed old man and the two-handed. They know as one what the next move needs to be. They are not swift, but they don’t fumble. 'Between us,' says Danny Branch, 'we’ve got three hands. Everybody needs at least three. Nobody ever needed more.'"

Possible Preaching Angle:

In one way or another, many of us can relate with Andy’s battle with shame. We have our own version of the phrase “I’ve ruined my hand,” our own way of feeling defective, and our own community to hide from.

Genesis 3 tells us that Adam and Eve, after eating the forbidden fruit, “knew that they were naked.” As a result, they hid behind fig leaves to avoid the God who could heal them. But in his grace, God calls them out from their hiding, covers their shame with custom-made clothes, and restores them to community.

In Christ, our shame can be covered by Christ’s glory. We no longer need to keep up appearances, and therefore, no longer need to hide from our community. In fact, our vulnerability becomes a blessing to others.

Some of the most insightful secular writers of our time have pointed out that a lot of our drive in life, and a lot of our angst and dysfunction, goes back to a fear that we are not accepted.

The famous playwright Arthur Miller (who wrote Death of a Salesman) stopped believing in God as a teenager. But, decades later, he said this:

I feel like I've carried around this sense of judgment. I could not escape it. I still felt like I needed to prove myself to others: to have somebody tell me that I was okay, that I was acceptable, that I was approved of.

He had replaced the God of Christmas with the "god" of audience approval. He was still looking for someone to tell him that he was accepted, and not under judgment. He never quite found it.

Madonna said this in Vanity Fair magazine:

All of my will has always been to conquer some horrible feeling of inadequacy. I'm always struggling with that fear ... My drive in life is from this horrible fear of being mediocre. And that's always pushing me, pushing me. Because even though I've become somebody, I still have to prove that I'm Somebody. My struggle has never ended and it probably never will.

Novelist Erica Jong supports abortion but is candid about its emotional toll. The author of provocative, sexual novels writes that abortion, for her, was too high a price to pay:

As a seventeen-year-old freshman at Barnard, I got my first diaphragm from Planned Parenthood (a college tradition). I never got pregnant accidentally because I knew that an abortion would make me terribly sad. I loved children, dogs, cats and other living things, and I understood that terminating a pregnancy would be extremely hard for me emotionally.

Willie Carson, the famous British jockey, was racing one day at Pontefract. He was happily leading on the rails. A furlong and a half from home he thought he heard something at his back and, glancing round, he saw the shadow of a horse coming up behind. Determined that he should not be beaten, he spurred on and was first at the finish line. He looked round again and saw that the nearest horse was fifteen lengths behind--he had been racing his own shadow for the last part of the race.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Sometimes we are haunted by the memory of a mistake, a regret from our past. It is as if there is a shadow looming over us, preventing us from going forward. God has forgiven our past and calls us to move forward into his future (Phillipians 3:13).

A study in the British Journal of Psychiatry reviewed data from 22 published studies and found a link between abortion and mental health difficulties. The meta-analysis of studies looked at 877,181 participants, of whom 163,831 had undergone an abortion. The study reported, “Women who had undergone an abortion experienced an 81 percent increased risk of mental health problems.”

The study found increased risks of the following separate mental health effects for women who had abortions:

-anxiety disorders (34 percent)

-depression (37 percent)

-alcohol use/abuse (110 percent)

-marijuana use/abuse (220 percent)

-suicide behaviors (155 percent)

In addition, post-abortion effects researcher Dr. David Reardon reports that at least 21 studies show a link between abortion and substance abuse. A study from Reardon’s Elliot Institute found that women having abortions were 160 percent more likely to seek psychiatric care in the 90 days afterwards than were women who had delivered their children. The study also found that the frequency of psychiatric treatment was significantly higher for at least four years following abortion.

The brilliant American writer David Foster Wallace committed suicide on September 12th, 2008. He was only 46-years-old. For many months prior to his death, Wallace had been in a deep depression. About ten years after Wallace’s death, Dr. David Kessler M.D. wrote an article in Psychology Today reflecting on what may have caused Wallace’s tragic end:

Wallace’s 2008 suicide at the age of 46 devastated the literary community. He was, at that time, acclaimed as the boldest, most innovative writer of his generation ... Despite Wallace’s frustration with his inability to complete the book [The Pale King], in some ways his life had never been better. He had married four years earlier and was comfortably settled in California, with a teaching job he loved. Why then did he take his own life?

Wallace’s life offers an example of what can happen when … striving perfectionism, which evolves into relentless self-criticism and becomes coupled with an uncanny ability to analyze the flaws in one’s own analysis … Wallace was caught up by this very loop, which resulted in a despair that ultimately he could not conceive of ever escaping. Yet, swimming upstream through his own torrent of disapproval, Wallace always hoped for more: more achievement, more recognition, more love.

Singer and pop star Billy Joel's early albums were massive hits. But according to an interview with New York magazine Joel has always been unsatisfied with his music. "I never felt as good as I wanted to be," Joel said. "My bar was Beethoven." Although Joel performed a show at Madison Square Garden in July of 2024, it's been 32 years since he released a new album (as of 2025).

His reluctance to write new songs stems largely from his critics, who have often savaged his music as sappy and shallow. Joel said, "Because I studied music I was suspect to critics. To them you're supposed to be a diamond in the rough and polish yourself." Apparently Joel's inability to overcome his internal and external critics have frozen his creativity.

Perfectionism can affect people of all ages and lifestyles, but it is increasingly prevalent among students. Research involving 40,000 students at universities in the UK, the US, and Canada found a 33 percent increase since 1989 in those who feel they must display perfection to secure approval. The report's lead author, Thomas Curran of the University of Bath, fears a "hidden epidemic of perfectionism."

Perfectionism is a personality trait rather than a mental health condition. There is no World Health Organization diagnosis code for perfectionism and it is not listed in the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. It can fly under the radar and masquerade as the pursuit of high standards, yet it overlaps with a plethora of disorders from eating to obsessive-compulsive disorder, anxiety, body dysmorphia, depression and suicide. As one struggling perfectionist said, "My brain feels like it's been punched."

A scan through the statements of President Abraham Lincoln reveals a man who underwent some very dark days. Consider, at the start of the War Between the States, Lincoln was resolute and visionary. "The mystic chords of memory," he announced in his inaugural address on March 4, 1861, "stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union." A little over a year into the war, on June 28, 1862, his rhetoric was tempered but still firm and uncompromising: "I expect to maintain this contest until successful, or till I die, or am conquered."

And then the true darkness began to fall. After a devastating defeat at Manassas in Virginia, Lincoln began first to worry, and then to doubt his cause: "Well, we are whipped again, I am afraid," he moaned. "What shall we do? The bottom is out of the tub, the bottom is out of the tub!" (August 1862). The next months and years for Lincoln were lived in near-constant, faith-shaking darkness and despair: "If there is a worse place than Hell, I am in it" (December1862, after defeat at Fredericksburg). "My God! My God! What will the country say?" (May 1863, after defeat at Chancellorsville). "This war is eating my life out. I have a strong impression that I shall not live to see the end" (1864).

And then, in the darkness a flicker of hope burst into flame. Union victories began turning the tide of the Civil War, and we can see Lincoln's spirits lift. Once again his rhetoric begins to soar, to reach resolutely toward his vision of one United States of America. In March 1865, about a month before Lee's surrender, Lincoln is able to regather his faith and speak, "With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right [as God gives], let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds … " (Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865). And finally, less than two weeks before his death, President Lincoln proclaimed the end of his trials: "Thank God I have lived to see this. It seems to me that I have been dreaming a horrid dream for four years, and now the nightmare is gone" (April 3, 1865).

Mark Twain held a wide range of views on Christianity and the Bible at different times in his life. His theological beliefs changed many times as he dealt with the tragic deaths of family and friends, as well as considerations of his own mortality. His misconceptions of sin and guilt may have contributed to his rejection of the gospel. In his book, Huck Finn's America: Mark Twain and the Era that Shaped His Masterpiece, Butler University's Andrew Levy wrote about Twain's faith:

He spent his Sundays in a church where the preachers were very clear about hell and the odds of a wayward child going there. He wept to his mother that he had "ceased to be a Christian," but his "trained Presbyterian conscience," as he later called it, swallowed guilt like air. There was no death in his family or among his friends he did not blame himself for: "I took all the tragedies to myself, and tallied them off in turn as they happened, saying to myself in each case, with a sigh, 'Another one gone—and on my account.'" Later there would be no economic or social injustice in which he regarded his hands as clean.

The city of Ann Arbor, Michigan, is home to one of the most fascinating museums on the planet. The facility run by GfK Custom Research goes under the informal name of the "Museum of Failed Products." At first sight, the shelves and aisles look just like a supermarket—except there's only one of each item. And you won't find these items in a real supermarket anyway: they are failures, products withdrawn from sale after a few weeks or months, because almost nobody wanted to buy them.

This is consumer capitalism's graveyard. It's the only place on the planet where you'll find Clairol's A Touch of Yogurt shampoo alongside Gillette's equally unpopular For Oily Hair Only, a few feet from a now-empty bottle of Pepsi AM Breakfast Cola (born 1989; died 1990). The museum is home to discontinued brands of caffeinated beer; to TV dinners branded with the logo of the toothpaste manufacturer Colgate; to Fortune Snookies, a short-lived line of fortune cookies for dogs; to self-heating soup cans that had a tendency to explode in customers' faces; and to packets of breath mints that had to be withdrawn from sale because they looked like tiny packages of crack cocaine. It is where microwaveable scrambled eggs—pre-scrambled and sold in a cardboard tube with a pop-up mechanism for easier consumption in the car—go to die.

If the museum has a central message, it's that failure isn't a rarity; it's the norm. For every insanely successful product such as the iPhone or the Big Mac, there's a whole host of ideas that only a mother could truly love. According to some estimates, the failure rate for new products is as high as 90 percent.

Given the ubiquity of failure, business expert Matt Symonds advises that we should help people "fail, fail again, fail better" rather than "filling [people's] heads with the unrealistic notions of winning every time."

Max Lucado tells the following story:

A Chinese man named Li Fuyan had tried every treatment imaginable to ease his throbbing headaches. Nothing helped. An X-ray finally revealed the culprit. A rusty four-inch knife blade had been lodged in his skull for four years. In an attack by a robber, Fuyan had suffered lacerations on the right side of his jaw. He didn't know the blade had broken off inside his head. No wonder he suffered from such stabbing pain.

Lucado comments:

We can't live with foreign objects buried in our bodies. Or our souls. What would an X-ray of your interior reveal? Regrets over an [earlier] relationship? Remorse over a poor choice? Shame about the marriage that didn't work, the habit you couldn't quit, the temptation you didn't resist, or the courage you couldn't find? Guilt lies hidden beneath the surface, festering, irritating. Sometimes so deeply embedded you don't know the cause.

Treadmills are fun if you want to get a little exercise. Unfortunately, for many people, religion feels like running on a treadmill: they're working hard but getting nowhere. That's a good image for one way to approach the Christian life, especially if you consider the history behind the treadmill. Elyse Fitzpatrick writes:

In Victorian England, treadmills weren't found in air-conditioned health clubs—they were found in prisons. Treadmills, or treadwheels, as they were called, were used in penal servitude as a form of punishment. Some treadwheels were productive, grinding wheat or transporting water, but others were purely punitive in nature. Prisoners were punished by spending the bulk of their day walking up an inclined plane, knowing that all their hard labor was for nothing. The only hope the prisoner had was that, at some day in the future, he would have "paid his debt" to society and would be set free. He couldn't even look on his labor at the end of the day and know that, if nothing else, he'd been productive.

As you struggle with [sin in your life], remember that [Christ] has set you free indeed and that you're no longer sentenced to be chained to the treadmill of sin and failure. He has paid the ransom demanded for your release from sin, and you're now walking in the freedom of the glory of the sons and daughters of God.

Matt Chandler tells the following story about what happened after speaking at a conference near his hometown:

When I was done preaching, I decided to hop in my car, drive twenty minutes to the town in which I grew up, and look at the houses that I remembered from back then. As I drove into town, I passed a field where I once got into a fistfight with a kid named Sean. It was not a fair fight, and I did some shady, dark things in that fight. I completely humiliated him in front of a large crowd of people …. Then I drove past my first house, and I thought of all the wicked things I had done in that house. I passed a friend's house where once, at a party, I did some of the most shameful, horrific things that I have ever done.

Afterward, on the drive back to the conference, I was overwhelmed with the guilt and shame of the wickedness that I had done in that city prior to knowing Jesus Christ …. I could hear the whispers in my heart: "You call yourself a man of God? Are you going to stand in front of these guys and tell them to be men of God? After all you've done?"

In the middle of all that guilt and shame, I began to be reminded by the Scriptures that the old Matt Chandler is dead. The Matt Chandler who did those things, the Matt Chandler who sinned in those ways, was nailed to that cross with Jesus Christ, and all of his sins—past, present, and future—were paid for in full on the cross of Jesus Christ. I have been sanctified "once and for all" …. He remembers my sins no more …. And I no longer need to feel shame for those things, because those things have been completely atoned for.