Cory Asbury - Christ Be Magnified Lyrics
Lyrics
|Verse 1|
Were creation suddenly articulate
With a thousand tongues to lift one cry
Then from north to south and east to west
We'd hear 'Christ be magnified!'
Were the whole earth echoing His eminence
His name would burst from sea and sky
From rivers to the mountain tops
We'd hear 'Christ be magnified!'
|Chorus|
O! Christ be magnified!
Let His praise arise
Christ be magnified in me
O! Christ be magnified!
From the altar of my life
Christ be magnified in me
|Verse 2|
When every creature finds its inmost melody
And every human heart its native cry
O then in one enraptured hymn of praise
We'll sing 'Christ be magnified!'
O be lifted high, Jesus
|Bridge|
I won't bow to idols, I'll stand strong and worship You
And if it puts me through the fire, I'll rejoice 'cause You're there too
I won't be formed by feelings, I hold fast to what is true
If the cross brings transformation, You can hang me there with You
'Cause death is just the doorway into resurrection life
And if I join You in Your suffering then I'll join You when You rise
And when You return in glory with all the angels and the saints
My heart will still be singing and my song will be the same
Video
Christ Be Magnified - Cory Asbury
Meaning & Inspiration
My knuckles are swollen now, and the pages of my old hymnals have gone thin, soft as fabric from decades of turning them. I’ve sat in enough pews to know the difference between a shout that comes from a high-energy morning and the kind of prayer that survives the long, dark stretch of a Tuesday night.
Cory Asbury wrote this, and there is a particular line in the bridge that caught me off guard while I was sitting on my porch, watching the sun drag itself down behind the treeline: "If the cross brings transformation, You can hang me there with You."
Young folks throw that word "transformation" around like it’s a shiny trophy you win for being good. But after forty years, I’ve learned that transformation is rarely a neat, clean affair. It is an emptying. It is the slow, grinding work of losing the things you thought defined you—your reputation, your physical vigor, your need to be right. To ask to be hung on a cross with Him isn’t a request for a martyr’s glory; it’s a request to finally, mercifully, let go of the self that keeps getting in the way. It’s terrifying, really. Do we actually want what we’re singing for?
I’ve spent a lifetime trying to build things, to fix things, to be the steady hand. But the older I get, the more I realize that the only thing that holds when the lights go out is the name of the One who was broken before I ever was. Paul wrote to the Galatians about being crucified with Christ—that he no longer lived, but Christ lived in him. It sounds beautiful on a Sunday. It feels like a wrecking ball when you’re staring at a diagnosis or a cold, empty house.
There’s another line that makes me pause: "I won't be formed by feelings, I hold fast to what is true."
My feelings have been a fickle compass for most of my life. They’ve told me I was abandoned when I was surrounded by grace; they’ve told me I was strong when I was actually standing on pride. If I had let my feelings form me, I would have drifted off to sea years ago. To hold fast to what is true—when the body aches, when the memory fades, when the world seems to be unraveling—that is the work of a saint.
I don't know if this song is just a melody for a generation that hasn't seen the fire yet, or if it’s a map they’re writing for the climb ahead. But when I sing it, I find myself asking: am I really ready to be magnified, or am I just looking for a song to drown out the silence? The truth is, I’m still figuring out how to die to myself daily. Maybe that’s the only way to truly sing it. The song doesn't answer all my questions, and that’s alright. Some things aren't meant to be solved; they're meant to be lived into.