Broken Friends

On New Year’s Eve 2018, I discovered a new band, Lovelytheband. They played their smash hit “Broken” during the New York City Times Square celebration. Immediately attracted to the tune, I looked it up on the Internet and found the official music video.  It exhibits an amusing story about a guy, lead singer Mitchy Collins, who tries to meet a girl while living insecurely in his surroundings. He is at a party with people that are not his friends, perhaps living a fake life. WARNING – the video is a bit risqué; however, we have posted it here for those interested in taking a peek into our culture’s view of brokenness through the lens of lovelytheband.

“I met you late night, at a party, Some trust fund baby’s Brooklyn loft …”

“These aren’t my people, These aren’t my friends.”

More so in the lyrics of the song than the video, Collins and the girl connect by admitting they are both broken. This ideology raises hesitations. How many of us can admit to ourselves, let alone others, that we are broken? We all carry baggage from past wounds and habitually incarnate methods through which we dodge uncomfortable questions. Would this be considered sin? 

How many of us can admit to ourselves, let alone others, that we are broken?

Maybe we live fake lives with people who are not our friends. Are we trying to impress people with our behavior, clothes, cars, houses, money, or lifestyles? Does our social media driven society force us to paint (or post!) an unrealistic picture of ourselves? Perhaps quality of life would improve if we began conveying authenticity.

After watching “Broken,” I discovered the visual recording “These are my Friends.” This video requires no WARNING! It displays a colorful, lively interaction between the band playing the song and an ethnically diverse group of background actor and dancer friends. As possibly the opposite of “Broken,” the song is about being real with your friends with no pretenses. These verses really struck me.

“These are my friends, these are my friends

I love them

And they don’t care who you are

They don’t care what you do, no.”

Again, these lyrics make us ponder. Are we truly open and transparent with our friends? Do we even have friends with which we can be this way? Unlike the lyrics, we should certainly care who they are and what they do. It’s not clear if the band wants us to not care about who our friends are or not care about what they do. The song seems particular about accepting people how they are, with all their imperfections. – loving people despite what they do.

The song seems particular about accepting people how they are, with all their imperfections. – loving people despite what they do.

The three members of Lovelytheband might not even be on their faith journeys. Regardless of their religion or worldview, the message seems to have a clear association with the Christian gospel.

Admit we are broken.

“For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard” (Romans 3:23, The Message).

Let’s also admit to repent, seek forgiveness from the people we have hurt, and desire reconciliation with God.

“Yet God, in his grace, freely makes us right in his sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins. For God presented Jesus as the sacrifice for sin” (Romans 3:24-5, The Message).

Love people for who they are.

Jesus tells us to love our neighbors as ourselves in both Mark 12 and Luke 10. In the Luke account of the story of the Good Samaritan, Jesus ups the ante by showing that we should love those not like us (Samaritans loving Jews). Then in Matthew 5, Jesus says we should even love our enemies!  

We are all broken. Let’s admit this in ourselves and others. Then let’s not judge people’s brokenness, but love them as they are. Jesus tells us to do this. If we can do this, people might better begin to embrace our genuineness. The best part is that when they are ready and open to hearing, we can share the good news of Jesus Christ!