215. Rock Goes The Gospel - Bryan Adams "Everything I Do I Do It For You"

"(Everything I Do) I Do It for You" by Bryan Adams. Written by Adams, Michael Kamen and Robert John "Mutt" Lange, featured on two albums simultaneously on its release, the soundtrack album from the 1991 film Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and on Adams' sixth studio solo album Waking Up the Neighbours (1992).

This song is featured in the Kevin Costner movie Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves, where it plays over the credits. It was written to order for the movie, initially by American film composer Michael Kamen, with the middle eight, break, outro and arrangement added by Adams and producer Mutt Lange. Adams used a line in the movie, "I do it for you..." as the basis for the song, and they had it written in about an hour. Adams has said that initially, this song didn't meet with Hollywood approval, as the film company wanted the song to have instrumentation in line with the films' era - lutes, mandolins, and the like. The film company relented, but still buried the song midway through the credits, apparently unaware of the huge hit they had on their hands. This is one of the most successful singles of all time, selling over 3 million copies. It was #1 for 16 weeks in the UK (from 13th July to 26th October 1991) and 7 weeks in the US.

Look into my eyes – you will see
What you mean to me.
Search your heart, search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more.

Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for.
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for.
You know it's true:
Everything I do, I do it for you.

Look into your heart – you will find
There's nothin' there to hide.
Take me as I am, take my life.
I would give it all, I would sacrifice.

Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more
You know it's true:
Everything I do, I do it for you, oh, yeah.

There's no love like your love
And no other could give more love.
There's nowhere unless you're there
All the time, all the way, yeah.

Look into your heart, baby...

Oh, you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for.
I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more.

Yeah, I would fight for you, I'd lie for you,
Walk the wire for you, yeah, I'd die for you.

You know it's true:
Everything I do, oh, I do it for you.

Everything I do, darling.
You will see it's true.
You will see it's true.
Yeah!
Search your heart and your soul
You can't tell it's not worth dying for
I'll be there
I'd walk the fire for you
I'd die for you
Oh, yeah.
I'm going all the time, all the way.

The song is about Love. We remember the Costner film "Prince of Thieves" and we remember the love between Loxley and Marion. This song is the pinnacle of that love between two people. Saying that, this song is being sung about a particular rare attribute in love. In the song we find the lines "Take me as I am, take my life. I would give it all, I would sacrifice" The song is about being servant hearted. Sing or read the lyrics and you will see what I mean. Today's scripture passage in Philippians 2 is about the servant heartedness of Jesus and our servant heartedness too, 

There is something about music that is able to speak to a variety of life circumstances. You may have a song of your own that, when it comes on the radio or pops up on itunes shuffle, you declare, that's my song or that's our song. You identify with it. You may even feel as though it is your life's or a particular relationship's soundtrack. A song can resurface the emotions associated with moments of celebration, seasons of grief, and eras of anxiety. When these songs play we sing along as if we were the original composers or artists.  We come to Paul's letter to the Philippians and stumble across a song, an ancient hymn. The words of today's devotional text, Philippians 2:1-11, are often referred to as the "Christ hymn," as they are believed to have been familiar lyrics to both Paul and those who "shared in the gospel" while situated in the small coastal community of Philippi. Paul is crouched in the corner of his prison cell, has just praised and thanked his brothers and sisters for their partnership, hums the well-known words, and then embeds them as an ancient hyperlink within this epistle:

Paul can write all he wants to encourage and goad the people of Philippi to continue in "the good work" of the gospel (1:6); his words are surely poignant and effective. Yet when Paul draws attention to the song they had used for corporate worship time and time again, they are invited to remember that their identity and vocation generates not from who Paul is, but from the person and work of Jesus. They are the people of God, "in Christ" citizens of a different sort of kingdom, who move in rhythm with the Way of Jesus. They are to share the mind of the Messiah, who calls them to live not for themselves but for the sake of the whole world. Paul says it this way, "look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others" (1:4). After all, that is who Jesus is; that is what Jesus did. Jesus "emptied himself" and became one of us for the sake of the whole world- to include you and me.  That is the main lyric of the Christ hymn. This is the refrain of the people of God who live into the humility and service of Jesus.

We live in a world where image is everything and social status is vital. The same was true then. The first-century world, which was the reality of the Philippian community, was drenched in assumed roles and social identities. You were male or female; rich or poor; citizen or foreigner; free person or owned slave. There was not much you could do about these identities; for the most part you were born into them. Even more, all your interactions, relationships, and travels reinforced these imposed identities and class affiliations. You would also be sure to do whatever it took to protect and preserve your inherited status.  Again, we do much of the same. Yet, unlike the first-century world, there is an added anxiety about social status and personal image. That is, we can choose and even purchase our status and identity. We carefully consider our lunch table communities, Friday night hangouts, music preferences, cell phone models, clothing apparels, sports team affiliations, favorite t.v. shows and movies, college preferences, and even hair styles. In today's culture, we are promised by ad agencies, commercials, and peers that if we make the right decisions or purchases we will receive the desired social statuses. This game we play is even a competition whereby we are pressured to leverage ourself over and above another. It is exhausting attempting to keep pace or outdo our neighbour in efforts to achieve this sort of identity.

Then we return to the early church, maybe those in Philippi. If you were to walk the streets of ancient Rome and perhaps stumble across one of these "Christian" gatherings, you would notice a striking difference: social class was thrown by the wayside and all called one another "brothers and sisters." There were, gathered together, slaves and free; men, women, and children; rich and poor; former soldiers and reputed sinners; loners and doubters; chronically ill and recently healed; the educated and the illiterate.  How could this be? They moved to the rhythm of a different song. Their minds and voices were unified by a new kind of lyric. This song echoed throughout Philippi and a dark and cold Roman prison cell. The Christ-centred melody formed a new community whereby all were invited, welcomed, and received as equal participants marked by a new "in Christ" status. And this is our song, too. When we become followers of Jesus, i.e. "in Christ," we are grafted into a new family of God. We are re-born into a new status that need not be purchased. This changes everything. As Paul writes, "in Christ" we find "encouragement, consolation, fellowship, and compassion," especially as those who are wearied or defeated by the social status game.

Yet Paul's prelude and incorporation of the Christ hymn pleads with the faithful in Philippi, and even us, to refuse to cling to this status alone. Instead, our individual and corporate minds are inwardly formed by this new identity so we can then journey outward and expend ourselves for the sake of another, maybe a friend who is also wearied and broken by the social status game. We care and we serve, because we quest to look "not to our own interests, but to the interests of others."  That's who Jesus is. That's what Jesus did. And we are to have the mind of Christ. 

Karl Barth says this about the Christ hymn:

"Grace certainly does not live and move abstractly, nor transcendently; it comes to meet us in life, in the efforts, hopes, insights, concerns of those about me, in whose company I stand before God...Humility in abstracto can be the grossest pride" (Epistle to the Philippians, p. 57).

A mind formed by Jesus leads a person towards service and humility. Humility, when it has flesh and bones, dines with the homeless, participates in work projects, and follows the lead of Jesus in a different sort of missional partnership. We surrender our own interests and offer grace when we invite a stranger, we surrender our pride and take on the mind and service of Christ when we bow to tend the needs of the margins.