Spider-Man Needs Friends. So Do You.

Spider-Man: Brand New Day is shattering ticket sales records on its way to the biggest domestic opening in film history. It’s obvious, movie-goers love them some Spider-Man, even if everything in his world is going off the rails.

The last time we saw Spidey in his own movie, 2021’s No Way Home, some multiverse shenanigans involving Doctor Strange resulted in Peter’s secret identity being broadcast to the world. To save his anonymity, and to protect the people he loves, Peter asks Doctor Strange cast a spell making everyone forget Peter Parker—including his best friend, Ned, and his girlfriend, MJ.

As the new movie opens, Peter Parker is alone, in a world that doesn’t know who he is. Sound familiar?

It’s not far off from how many of us feel. We’re more digitally connected than ever, but personal connection—knowing other people, and being known by them—is in the gutter. Rates of loneliness are at an all-time high, mental health issues are skyrocketing, anxiety is rampant. I’m no stranger to any of those feelings (my counselor agrees, and not just because I pay him).

We can’t do this alone. In fact, we shouldn’t even try.

In a scene near the end of Brand New Day, Peter says something powerful that stopped me in my tracks. He’s talking to a superhero he’s spent half the movie chasing (but who will remain nameless because nobody likes spoilers).

Peter: “Just because we've lost someone... It doesn't mean we have to do this alone. I mean, we can't. Trust me, I've been trying. It doesn't work.”

Other Character: “Even if that’s true…I have no one.”

Peter: “You have me.”

It hits me in my feels, even now. (You get weepy at movies when you become a dad, right? Asking for a friend.)

Turns out, the God of the universe agrees with Spider-Man. He was actually the first to say so.

Way back on page one of the Bible, we find God on a making-spree, creating the entire universe. He brings to life the sea, land, skies, stars, animals, nature, and calls it all good. Then, God creates something that causes him, for the first time in existence, to say…“not good.”

He makes a man. And then says, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

The God of everything, who just plopped the first human down in the middle of paradise on Earth, said the only thing in all of creation that didn’t meet his standards was loneliness.

You probably know the story, and maybe you’ve even heard it at a wedding. In response to this isolation, God creates a woman, bringing the two humans together and establishing the first family.

But I actually don’t believe the text is teaching that marriage is the one-and-done solution to loneliness—mostly because some of the most important heroes of the faith never married. For starters, there’s Jesus, who spent his entire life single. God commanded the prophet Jeremiah to not marry, and we don’t see any record of people like Daniel, John the Baptist, or Elijah ever tying the knot either. Paul, an early missionary and church planter, writes about singleness with such strength that it almost makes you question whether someone broke his heart.

Marriage is not a prerequisite for a good life, but friendship might be. Jesus spent much of his life surrounded by friends, from the disciples to siblings, to Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Jeremiah’s life was saved multiple times by friends who were looking out for him. Daniel stood strong in the face of a hostile empire alongside friends; John the Baptist pointed all his friends toward Jesus; and Elijah invested all his spiritual wisdom in a mentee, Elisha.

Our lives get better when other people are included. This truth is littered throughout Scripture (places like here, here, here, and here). Living life with other people is part of how we experience grace and love, receive wisdom and counsel, and are built up and encouraged.

Science is catching up with what God said first. Studies have linked having strong friendships to a 50% chance of living longer, decreased blood pressure and cortisol stress levels, and a decreased risk of depression and mental health issues. One study even found that people described hills as less steep when they were walking them with friends.

Life is a team sport. We were not designed to do it alone. Whether it’s friendship, marriage, or a combination of the two, God clearly says, from the beginning, that life on our own is not good.

It’s a truth I avoided for years—believing lie after lie as to why my life was better alone, or how I could possibly manage it all independent of anyone else.

“No one really wants to know me, anyway.”

“I can’t show anyone my weaknesses or failures, or they will judge or leave me.”

“It’s just easier this way.”

That’s not to say I didn’t try. I did. And if, like me, you’ve faced rejection, condemnation, or dislike from people you’d hoped to call friends, the lies pushing you to isolation can be even more powerful.

The isolation lies are insidious because they’re half-true. In many ways, it is easier to go about life alone. No one around to tell me something I don’t want to hear? No one to call me on my B.S.? No one to have to be truly vulnerable with, showing parts of myself I’d rather keep hidden? Sign me up for one solo ticket, please.

Life alone started easier, but the longer I stayed disconnected from others, the darker everything became—my mood, attitude, and outlook.

Loneliness was strangely comforting. It couldn’t let me down or hurt me—because it was predictable. But it also didn’t lift me up—or add anything positive to my days. And the predictability was incredibly…predictable—life alone was really freaking boring.

Isolation may have saved me from having to test the waters of being known and seen and showing all my warts, failures, and insecurities, but life got very stale, and very empty, very fast. This coming from a lifelong introvert who loves his quality time by himself, and still does: the truth of the matter is that while breaks from people are nice, they make for terrible lifestyles.

I knew God wasn’t about me having a predictable, comfortable, safe life where I never get hurt or take relational risks. He made me to be known by him and others, and to engage deeply in community and relationships. Even the fact that He exists as the Trinity (a fancy word for his identity as the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit all at once) proves that God values relationships. God Himself is a friendship. Insert mind-blown emoji.

Realizing I had nowhere else to go, and with my isolated life becoming a drag of endless repeating days, I finally decided to put God to the test. I’d had friendships in the past, but they had either grown distant or become completely surface-level (turns out talking about fantasy football and nothing else doesn’t do it for ya). So, I made the first moves. I asked coworkers to grab some food or coffee. I texted friends from high school and college I’d lost contact with. I chose to take conversations to deeper places. I tried out some groups and special events at my church. I asked an older guy I admire to mentor me. I practiced sharing more vulnerable parts of my life with those I was growing closer to.

And a crazy thing happened. The more I pressed into other people—watching sports, going to Marvel movies, grabbing drinks, playing Xbox (my wife envies that guys have such an easy relational starting point like that), or opening up about the challenges of my life—I noticed drastic improvements and greater connection and joy, not only in my relationship with people, but with God as well.

That’s not to say it’s all been easy. As I’ve gotten older and more priorities are introduced, it’s been easy to let my “busyness” get in the way of making time for friends. I’ve also been hurt by friends when they haven’t shown up when I needed them to or seem to not make me a priority. And, hard as it is to say, I’ve been that bad friend at times, too. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth pressing in all the more.

Just by putting in intentional effort, I’ve seen so many of my friendships grow to incredible heights. Like Spider-Man before me, I had to hit an isolated rock bottom to realize just how important other people are. In the words of Miles Morales, maybe my actual favorite web-slinging hero: “And when I feel alone, like no one understands what I’m going through, I remember my friends who get it.”

If you’re living in a world where you feel alone—like everyone else has forgotten you even exist—even the smallest movement toward connection can bring unprecedented results. I’ve been there. I know.

Make the phone call. Send the text. Ask to grab lunch. Buy the movie tickets. Isolation begins to die when we make the first move.

And if all else fails, you can just tell them Spider-Man sent you. No one will argue with that.