Weakness

It’s been a rocky couple of seasons at the ballpark for Yeshiva University in New York City. More than a couple of seasons, actually. Until early evening on April 8, the Division III Y.U. Maccabees hadn’t won a game since Feb. 27, 2022. Now it was April 2025.

Instead they’d lost in every imaginable way—home games, road games, close games, blowouts, double-header sweeps, games they deserved to win and games they didn’t. The losses climbed into the low double-digits, then the mid-double digits, and finally, this season, into the thin air of the 90s.

Entering the front half of Tuesday’s double-header with Lehman College, Yeshiva had lost 99 in a row. Then they lost that game, too, making it triple digits.

Yeshiva had at 100 losses in a row—by far the longest active losing streak across college baseball. But nobody beats Yeshiva University baseball 101 times in a row. On April 9th, 2025, the magic Maccabees were triumphant in the back half of their double-header with Lehman, jumping out to an early 7-2 lead before prevailing 9-5.

Benedict Cumberbatch has played a superhero involved in some precarious situations, but it turns out the actor has also experienced an actual life-threatening situation in his past. He revealed that in 2004, he was with friends in South Africa when they were robbed and abducted by six men. Eventually, Cumberbatch and his friends were tied up and made to sit execution-style before the men finally fled.

Cumberbatch said of the experience, “It gave me a sense of time, but not necessarily a good one. It made me impatient to live a life less ordinary, and I’m still dealing with that impatience.”

He also explained how the harrowing encounter spurred him to try extreme things to get his adrenaline up. “The near-death stuff turbo-fueled all that,” he said. “It made me go, ‘Oh, right, yeah, I could die at any moment.’ I was throwing myself out of planes, taking all sorts of risks.”

“But apart from my parents, I didn’t have any real dependents at that point. Now that’s changed, and that sobers you,” he added, in reference to his wife and three sons. “I’ve looked over the edge; it’s made me comfortable with what lies beneath it. And I’ve accepted that that’s the end of all our stories.”

Research reveals that Gen Z employees aren't fooled by the "compliment sandwich" approach to feedback. While this technique aims to soften criticism with praise, it can often backfire. Young people are more concerned with whether they're perceived as competent than with receiving positive reinforcement. They crave genuine validation and respect, not patronizing compliments.

The compliment sandwich is meant to create an atmosphere of safety and security. But if the praise is for something seemingly unimportant, it won’t address a young person’s fears of unworthiness. Rather, it may be seen as condescending, which can confirm anxieties about being seen as a rube. Studies show that young people are especially hungry for signs of social status and respect, so they are especially insulted when they sense they are being talked down to.

There is, in fact, a simple but effective solution. Instead of the baloney sandwich, consider "wise feedback." This approach involves delivering honest, constructive criticism with an underlying belief in the individual's potential. By framing feedback as a tool for growth, you can help young people overcome their fears of inadequacy and strive for excellence.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The Apostle Paul is a great example of putting this principle into practice in the church. He was honest about both the strengths and weaknesses of the people he addressed without flattery. His criticism is always motivated by love for people. He always offered hope for the future, encouraging them to change and grow.

Paul Auster, a prolific novelist, memoirist, and screenwriter was described as a “literary superstar” and “one of America’s most spectacularly inventive writers.” But his life was haunted by tragedy and death. In 1961, a 14-year-old Paul Auster watched a friend die after being struck by lightning. Later, he lost one grandmother to a heart attack and another to A.L.S., a disease which Auster said left victims with “no hope, no remedy, nothing in front of you but a prolonged march towards disintegration.” Later there were the deaths of his mother and father; the passing of his 10-month-old granddaughter Ruby, and his son, Daniel, who overdosed in 2022.

Auster wrote that “the world was capricious and unstable, that the future can be stolen from us at any moment, that the sky is full of lightning bolts that can crash down and kill the young as well as the old, and always, always, the lightning strikes when we are least expecting it.”

Sadness permeated Auster’s work. After his death at the age of 77, his wife wrote, “Paul was extremely interested in the idea of the hero who is cast into a new world by grief. He used that device a lot: the stripped person. The person who has lost their most profound connections to the world.”

When talking about the harms of social media today, one of the first problems people mention is FOMO—fear of missing out. Scroll through Instagram and see your friends having fun at a party you weren’t invited to. Check Snapchat to find everyone’s Bitmojis together on Snap Map without you. This feeling of constantly missing out, we’re told, is a major cause of anxiety and depression for Gen Z.

But that’s not true anymore. More often, it’s the opposite. We want to avoid the risk, the rejection, the awkwardness, the effort, and energy that the real world demands. Our major problem isn’t fear of missing out. It’s fear of taking part.

Look at how many young people are scared of doing everyday things. Not just fear of learning to drive, or getting a job—but scared to order in restaurants. Can’t walk into a cafe. Don’t want to open their door for a delivery. Under the hashtag #socialanxiety on TikTok, which has nearly 3 billion views, young people are sharing symptoms, describing debilitating anxiety, even recording their panic attacks in public.

One British TikToker hosts a series called “Doing Things You’re Afraid of To Show You It’s Okay.” In the series, she films herself facing challenges like getting in an elevator, asking for help in a supermarket, and asking for directions. It’s great to see someone working on their anxiety — but what’s alarming is how popular these videos are, and how many users say they have the same fears. Meanwhile forums like r/socialanxiety on Reddit–which has over 400,000 members–are filled with teenagers and young adults admitting that they are afraid of the real world. They feel much more comfortable online.

Many young people even fear making phone calls, and avoid it as much as possible. One study from last year found that 90% of Gen Z say they have “phone anxiety,” writing down scripts before they speak.

Across social media, there’s also a growing celebration of missing out. The phrase “JOMO” (Joy of Missing Out) is catching on, along with TikToks, tweets, and memes about the relief of cancelled plans. They say this is about wellness and self-care but that just sounds nicer than self-isolation. Missing out is good for our mental health, we tell ourselves. We’re better off inside.

Gen Z is the first generation who had a phone-based childhood, who spent their formative years in a pandemic, who have had less face-to-face interaction than any other in history. The only world they’ve ever known is one where they can get everything they need without interacting with another human: self-service checkouts, delivery apps, online porn, online lectures, and online communities.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The only thing scarier than the real world is never being brave enough to enter it. The life to be afraid of is the one unlived. Learn to trust God and live life. Discover the gifts and abilities that God has given to you. Get up. Get out. Give it all you’ve got. Fear missing out again. And then refuse to do it any longer.

A surefire way to never get hurt: Imagine a life free from heartache and disappointment, a world where you are impervious to the pain that comes with emotional vulnerability. Picture yourself gliding through your days without the sting of rejection or the ache of unfulfilled dreams. Sounds perfect, doesn't it?

After all, you've learned from an early age that vulnerability can lead to pain. A harsh word from a friend, an unreciprocated crush, a family argument, each instance teaches you to guard your heart. This foundational fear shapes your approach to relationships and life. You begin to understand that vulnerability is a double-edged sword, capable of bringing both joy and sorrow. Your instinct to protect yourself becomes the cornerstone of your emotional defenses.

As you grow older, you start constructing your fortress brick by brick. First, you hold back your feelings, and you certainly don't let anyone see your weaknesses. This way, you prevent others from having the power to hurt you. Next, you refrain from sharing your opinions. By keeping your thoughts to yourself, especially on controversial topics, you steer clear of potential conflicts and judgment. You begin to distance yourself from people and avoid deep connections that could lead to betrayal.

This isolation does protect you from immediate pain, but it slowly starts to build a barrier between you and the world. At this point, your defenses are at their peak. You've perfected the art of non-participation, and your emotional fortress is impenetrable.

You've built walls around your heart so high, that you've effectively isolated yourself. The fear of getting hurt has led you to a place where you're no longer living, but merely existing. Your fortress, meant to protect you, has now become a prison. As you reflect on your life within these walls, the consequences of your choices become painfully clear. You've successfully avoided heartbreak, but you've also missed out on love.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Choosing to be vulnerable in our interpersonal relationships requires true faith and humility. No one likes to get hurt and everyone wants to feel safe at all times. The consequences of building an emotional fortress around ourselves are very serious.

The longevity business is booming. People are flocking to longevity meetings and taking compounds they hope will extend their lives. Investors are backing scientists researching techniques to reprogram cells to a younger state. Longevity influencers argue that if they can live long enough, scientific breakthroughs will keep them going indefinitely. “We are going to start to understand how to rejuvenate and revitalize ourselves. This is what science does,” said Dr. Peter Diamandis, a 63-year-old entrepreneur who runs longevity trips for investors.

But S. Jay Olshansky, who studies the upper bounds of human longevity at the University of Illinois Chicago, believes people shouldn’t expect to live to 100. He contends most will reach between 65-90. Olshansky said, “It’s basic biology. As people grow older, their cells and tissues accumulate damage. Breakdowns of one kind or another happen more frequently and get increasingly difficult to repair.”

Nobel laureate Venki Ramakrishnan explained the many reasons in his book, Why We Die. He doesn’t believe current interventions will dramatically extend lifespan. Techniques to reverse aging would have to help every system in the body, including the brain, over a long period.

Trinity Evangelical Divinty School professor Kevin Vanhoozer writes about caring for his aging mother in an issue of CT magazine:

For nine years now, I have been watching my mother’s identity slowly fade as memories and capacities switch off, one after another, like lights of a house shutting down for the night. Marriage may be a school of sanctification, as Luther said, but caring for aging parents is its grad school, especially when he or she lives with you and suffers from dementia.

It’s been said that as we become older, we become caricatures of ourselves. Dementia speeds the process. It’s easy to see why: With loss of executive cognitive functioning, we’re less prone to monitor what we say and do. We begin to fly on auto-pilot, re-tracing again and again well-trod paths.

What lies under … the social masks we have carefully constructed? What lies under my mother’s happy face? (“I’m fine,” she’d say, even after a fall). I recently discovered the answer.

Years into the dementia, she lost her last line of defense and began to voice her inmost thoughts aloud. “Father, don’t let me fall” accompanied her every shuffling step behind her walker. Initially I thought this terribly sad—clearly, she wasn’t fine but anxious—yet I eventually found it comforting. The Bible depicts life as a walk: Shouldn’t we all be praying to the Lord to help us avoid missteps? Though she had forgotten former friends and neighbors, and large swaths of her own life, she remembered the fatherhood of God.

Actress and former Seinfeld star (as Elaine) Julia Louis-Dreyfus has had moments when tragedy and comedy get put in a blender. Monday, September 18, 2017, was one of them. Louis-Dreyfus and the hit TV show Veep had triumphed at the Emmys the night before. By morning, her doctor was on the phone telling her she had cancer. The first thing she did after hanging up was double over with laughter.

She said, “I mean, it felt like it was written. It felt like it was a horrible black comedy. And then it sort of morphed into crying hysterically.” [But she was also] terrified. “You just simply don’t consider it for yourself, you know, that’s sort of the arrogance of human beings. But of course, at some point, we’re all going to bite it.”

Pastor John Yates III once worked for the British scholar and Bible teacher John Stott. Yates reflected on the time when Stott’s aging and disability started to slow Stott down. Yates says:

Stott spent the last 15 years of his life going completely blind. It began with a small stroke that knocked out the peripheral vision in his left eye, forcing him to surrender his driver’s license. And over the years that followed, this man who wrote more books during his lifetime than most of us will read in an average decade became unable to see the pages in front of him. But that wasn't all. His body grew increasingly weak. He needed more sleep. He was eventually confined to his bedroom.

I spent three years working closely with John when he was in his early 70s. I was in my mid-20s. It was absolutely exhausting. I've never been around another person with a capacity for work as fast as his. He was the most disciplined and efficient man I've ever known. But there he was, years later, now in his 80s and into his early 90s, with his mind as sharp as ever. But then he was unable to do much of anything, except to sleep, eat, and listen out his bedroom window for the call of a familiar bird.

Now I found this personally incredibly difficult to understand. Why would God allow a man like John to suffer the loss of precisely those faculties that made his life so meaningful and has worked so successful, if it just seemed cruel? It would have been better, I thought, for him to die or to suffer from Alzheimer's, because at least then he wouldn't have known what he was missing.

But then I finally begin to understand why John never seemed to complain. That's because God was giving him the gift of absolute dependence. God was showing him that he delighted to offer Stott a dependence on him.

Brookdale Senior Living is one of the industry's leading providers of senior adult care, with over 600 facilities across the United States. But employees have been complaining that the chain’s centralized computer system, which prioritizes efficiency, misses some of the nuance involving caring for seniors. As a result, they say, its staffing algorithms consistently understaff facilities, and the quality of care suffers.

Patricia McNeal spent six years overseeing facilities in Ohio and Florida, but was forced out after complaining to her superiors about the substandard staffing recommendations. She said, “Brookdale is handing you this thing that says, ‘This is what it says you need, hire for that.’ My eyes told me that we weren’t getting enough.”

And she’s not alone. At a facility in Florida, Brookdale recommended fewer employees than buildings on campus, making it impossible for staff to always monitor all residents. And at a facility in Texas, caregivers were given only 20 minutes to help residents undress, shower, and get dressed again, a standard they could not meet.

According to a report in The Washington Post, the problem stems from decades old research bankrolled by corporate executives looking to cut costs and maximize revenue. They timed a set of caregivers performing various tasks, then fed that data into their programming, erroneously assuming that all adults have the same needs and that those trends would never evolve over time. What resulted is a standard of low-skilled laborers performing rote tasks, treating human beings like widgets on an assembly line.

This labor model fails to account for the complexities of dealing with adults who may be facing cognitive decline. When any one task takes longer than anticipated, it subtracts time from the entire pool of available hours, which prevents some residents from receiving essential care.

In an email to her superiors, Brenda Jarmer, a director of operations in Florida, pleaded for intervention, “I cannot stress to you how bad it is … I am asking for help.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

Being a wise steward of resources is important, but we should never be so concerned with efficiency and conformity that we fail to care for the weakest among us.

The Silver Bridge, officially named the Point Pleasant Bridge but known for its silver aluminum paint, opened on May 30, 1928, with great anticipation. Advertised as a groundbreaking cantilever design demanding “worldwide attention.” On its inaugural day, an estimated 10,000 people crossed the bridge, eager to be part of history.

But on December 15, 1967, the bridge collapsed. Eyewitnesses described the collapse as a slithering, buckling chain reaction, claiming dozens of cars and at least three trucks, resulting in the loss of 46 lives.

Unlike traditional suspension bridges like San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge, which use woven-wire cables, the Silver Bridge was suspended from heat-treated steel eyebar chains resembling elongated links of a bicycle chain. A Popular Mechanics article summarizes the design flaw and its consequences:

When National Transportation Safety Board investigators recovered the wreckage, much of what they found was covered in rust. But they homed in on one small piece where the rust ran much deeper, the metal far more corroded: a single eyebar had snapped in two. It was as though a crack had developed over time, a slow corrosive fissure. The initial crack was barely one-quarter-inch long. But once it formed, all it could do was grow. Investigators came to understand that this single, tiny flaw destroyed the entire bridge.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The same is true in the spiritual life of the Christian. One small flaw, a little yielding to temptation, over time can cause the downfall of a person or a ministry.

Author Brené Brown was at a book signing where a woman and her husband approached her with books to get autographed. After Brown signed the books, the wife turned to leave and said, “Come on, hon” to her husband. “No,” he replied, “I want to talk with her for a second.”

Uncomfortable, Brown just waited. The man then looked at her and said, “I really love all this stuff you're talking about, this shame, and being perfect, and having to be someone we're not, and having to reach out. It is really powerful. But I never heard you mention anything about men.”

She felt relieved and said: “I don't study men.” He immediately responded, “That's convenient.” Nervously, she asked, “Why convenient?”

“It's convenient you don't talk about men,” he said, “Because when we reach out, when we tell our stories, when we share our shame experiences, we get the emotional s____ beat out of us.”

Brown was about to reply when he added, “Before you say anything about those dads, and those coaches, or about those bosses and mean bully friends, let me explain this to you. My wife and my three daughters, you just signed books for, they would rather see me die on top of my White Horse than see me fall off.” And then he just left.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This story reveals the stresses men face today—the pressure to stay on your “white horse,” to maintain your image of strength and invulnerability, rather than to trust in God’s grace and be vulnerable in Christian community.

His pronouncements could hardly sound more drastic. In interviews and public appearances, Yusuke Narita, an assistant professor of economics at Yale, has taken on the question of how to deal with the burdens of Japan’s rapidly aging society.

During an interview in late 2012 he said, “I feel like the only solution is pretty clear. In the end, isn’t it mass suicide and mass ‘seppuku’ of the elderly?” Seppuku is an act of ritual disembowelment that was a code among dishonored samurai in the 19th century.

When asked by a school-age boy to elaborate on his mass seppuku theories, Dr. Narita graphically described to a group of assembled students a scene from “Midsommar.” This is a 2019 horror film in which a Swedish cult sends one of its oldest members to commit suicide by jumping off a cliff. Dr. Narita said, “Whether that’s a good thing or not, that’s a more difficult question to answer. So, if you think that’s good, then maybe you can work hard toward creating a society like that.”

At other times, he has broached the topic of euthanasia. He said in one interview, “The possibility of making it mandatory in the future … will come up in discussion.” Dr. Narita, 37, said that his statements had been “taken out of context,” and that he was mainly addressing a growing effort to push the most senior people out of leadership positions in business and politics—to make room for younger generations. Nevertheless, with his comments on euthanasia and social security, which appear clear enough, he has pushed the hottest button in Japan.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This is not a pleasant or positive illustration, but it does highlight the dangers of losing the biblical doctrine of the Imago Dei and the sanctity of every human life.

Nadia Bolz Weber, shared some thoughts on grace, failures, and the soul feeling its worth in her Christmas newsletter:

When Mary sings of God in the Magnificat, she didn’t say that God looked with favor on her virtue. She didn’t say that God looked with favor upon her activism. She didn’t say that God looked with favor on the fact that she had tried so hard that she finally had become the ideal version of herself.

No. God looked with favor on her lowliness.

And yet then what do I do but constantly curse my own lowliness. Obsess about my flaws and shortcomings. Berate myself for my failings and defects of character; for not trying hard enough to become my ideal self.

But our failings and weakness and mistakes are God’s perfect entry points. It is our lowliness and our humility, not our strength and our so-called virtues where God does God’s very best work. Which makes me wonder if perhaps our obsession with self-improvement is really just a form of atheism disguised as spirituality.

Editor’s Note: Warning: The original article by Nadia Bolz Weber contains some R-rated language.

Mike Huddleston was traveling for a training. He had flown from Maryland to San Francisco and needed to get to a rental car agency. But because of a degenerative neuromuscular condition that weakens his muscles, he wouldn't be able to climb the stairs of the shuttle bus. Instead, the car agency sent someone to pick him up.

But as he was walking outside to meet them, he fell. And due to his condition, he couldn't get up. "I remember sitting there in the middle of the sidewalk in front of San Francisco Airport, thinking, 'What in the world am I going to do?'"

"[Then] out of nowhere I heard, 'What can I do to help?'" Huddleston turned his head to see a man in his late thirties standing behind him. "I said, 'Are you kidding?' He said, 'No. What can I do to help you, man?'"

Huddleston described what the man could do to help him get off the ground. Once he got him up, the man fetched Huddleston's baggage, which had rolled a few feet away when he fell. "He asked me if I was good and I said, 'I am because of you. So, thank you very much.' He just said, 'No problem,' and turned and walked away."

This encounter struck Huddleston. Not just because of the man's kindness, but also because of the way he offered that kindness. His unsung hero didn't step in and start helping when he saw Huddleston on the ground. He took a moment to ask Huddleston how he could help.

Different people who need assistance may need it in different ways. So, asking them how you can help them is amazingly helpful. It allows the individual who's in need of assistance to maintain a sense of self, to maybe feel a little less helpless, and maybe even a little less vulnerable.

It's been more than 20 years since Huddleston was helped up, but he continues to think about it to this day. "His willingness to help me — and the compassion he showed in a very challenging situation — for me is something I will never forget."

Editor’s Note: This story is part of the “My Unsung Hero” series on NPR, from the Hidden Brain team, about people whose kindness left a lasting impression on someone else.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This story sheds new light on the question that Jesus often asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Matt. 20:32; Mark 10:51; Luke 18:41). On reading the accounts, it might seem obvious what the person needed, but now we have better insight into why Jesus would ask this question. It is not only to allow the person to express faith, but to give them a “sense of self.”

In an episode of NBC’s sitcom, The Office, Michael Scott offers a humorously self-serving accounting of his weaknesses as a boss: “I work too hard, I care too much, and sometimes I can be too invested in my job.” Asked to list his strengths, he replies, “Well, my weaknesses are actually strengths.”

Call it the Michael Scott paradox. In telling stories about our lives, we have a habit of casting ourselves as the hero. Every day is a new chapter confirming that we alone are truly empathetic, courageous, and reasonable. Our strengths are obvious (or at least they should be). And our weaknesses are really strengths.

This penchant for valorizing our choices and motivations speaks to the fundamental fallenness of our nature. It tempts us to misremember, misconstrue, and misunderstand not only ourselves but those around us.

Possible Preaching Angles:

There are at least two possible ways to approach this illustration. 1) Ego; Pride; Self-Deception - The obvious lesson is that ego, pride, and a fallen nature can lead a person to overlook their weaknesses and fail to humble themselves and grow; 2) Humility; Identity in Christ; Power, spiritual - We might actually agree with Michael Scott if we realize that in Christ, our weaknesses are really our strengths “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses” when his “power is perfected in weakness” (1 Cor. 1:26-31; 2 Cor. 12:5-10).