One with the Sun -- FPC sermon excerpt

Dancers, singers, actors, and artists. They all want one thing.

Fame.

Back in 1980, there was an Oscar-winning movie called “Fame,” a film that followed a group of talented students through four years at the New York City High School of Performing Arts. This September, a new version of this film will be released, starring Kelsey Grammer and Debbie Allen. You might remember that Debbie Allen played a dance instructor in the original movie, but now, after 29 years, she has been cast as the school’s principal.

The headlines are reading: “Allen Returns To Fame.”

The environment is incredibly competitive in this high school, and each student’s talents, passions, and determination are put to the test. In addition, the students face all of the other struggles of high school — schoolwork, friendships, romances, and the rocky road of self-discovery. The drama of this film lies in its depiction of teenagers growing up, while also discovering whether they have the talent and discipline to become true stars.

One of the many stirring songs from the movie includes the lyrics,

I sing the body electric, I celebrate the new year to come,
I toast to my own reunion when I become one with the sun.
And I’ll look back on Venus, I’ll look back on Mars, and I’ll burn with the fire of ten million suns;
And in time, and in time, we will all be stars.

That’s the dream of each of these young people: To become one with the sun, to burn brightly in the heavens, to become a star.

Some achieve this goal, of course, and go on to great artistic success. But most blow up, burn out, or just fade away. “Everybody else here is colorful, or eccentric, or charismatic,” laments one of the students, “and I’m perfectly normal.” You can just hear the sadness in her voice.

Being normal is not necessarily an advantage when your goal is to achieve fame. Just ask Michael Jackson. Fame comes from possessing enormous talent, and a burning desire to become one with the sun. But sometimes fame can destroy you.

Jesus encounters this very same longing for glory when, in the ninth chapter of Mark, he is passing through the region of Galilee with his disciples. Not that he feels it himself — he sees it in his followers. Jesus is avoiding the spotlight in a way that would be unthinkable to the students of the New York City High School of Performing Arts. Instead of seeking attention, he lies low, and uses his undercover time to teach his disciples that “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again” (Mark 9:30-31).

The disciples don’t get it. They do not understand what he is saying, and they are afraid to ask him (v. 32). This talk of betrayal and death and rising again does not fit their idea of a good career plan.

It’s important to remember that this chapter of Mark begins with the Transfiguration, that glorious mountaintop experience in which Jesus is revealed to be the Son of God. Mark tells us that his clothes become “dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them” (v. 3), and Matthew adds that “his face shone like the sun” (17:2). He enters into a conversation with Elijah and Moses, the two superstars of the Old Testament, and the voice of God booms out of a cloud, “This is my Son, the Beloved, listen to him!” (Mark 9:4-7). Jesus appears to be a rising star, one who will burn with the fire of ten million suns.

At least that’s what the disciples think.

But Jesus has another idea. “The Son of Man is to be betrayed … killed ... [and] rise again,” he says (v. 31). He predicts that his fire will be snuffed out completely before it is rekindled by God.

The disciples continue to follow Jesus along the road to the town of Capernaum, and when they reach their destination he asks them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” They are silent, because they had been sparring with one another about who was the greatest. They had been singing another song from the movie “Fame”:

I’m gonna live forever, I’m gonna learn how to fly!
I feel it coming together, People will see me and cry!
I’m gonna make it to heaven, Light up the sky like a flame!
I’m gonna live forever, Baby remember my name!

The disciples love the idea of being famous, but at the same time they know that there is something deeply wrong with this approach. They sense that it is somehow opposed to the agenda of a Messiah who keeps quiet about his accomplishments (vv. 33-34). So they stand around in the house in Capernaum, looking at their feet in shame.

That’s right: Shame. Not fame.

Then Jesus sits down in his teacher’s seat, calls the twelve disciples, and says to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” To be first you must be last, he insists; to be a star you must be a servant (v. 35).