Scripture Verse

Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God. 1 John 3:1

Introduction

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Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Words: Is­aac Watts, Hymns and Spi­ri­tu­al Songs, Book 1, 1709, num­ber 64. Be­hold, what won­drous grace. Pa­ra­phrased by Will­iam Cam­er­on, 1781.

Music: St. Ste­phen Will­iam Jones, 1789 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

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William Jones (1726–1800)
National Portrait Gallery

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Lyrics

Behold th’amaz­ing gift of love
The Fa­ther hath be­stowed
On us, the sin­ful sons of men,
To call us sons of God!

Concealed as yet this hon­or lies,
By this dark world un­known,
A world that knew not when He came,
Even God’s eter­nal Son.

High is the rank we now pos­sess;
But high­er we shall rise;
Though what we shall here­af­ter be
Is hid from mor­tal eyes.

Our souls, we know, when He ap­pears,
Shall bear His im­age bright;
For all His glo­ry, full dis­closed,
Shall op­en to our sight.

A hope so great, and so di­vine,
May tri­als well en­dure;
And purge the soul from sense and sin,
As Christ Him­self is pure.

This hymn has been much altered over the years. Here is Watts’ original version:

Behold what won­drous grace
The Fa­ther hath be­stow’d
On sin­ners of a mor­tal race
To call them Sons of God!

’Tis no sur­pris­ing thing,
That we should be un­known;
The Jew­ish world knew not their king,
God’s ev­er­last­ing Son.

Nor doth it yet ap­pear
How great we must be made;
But when we see our Sav­iour here,
We shall be like our Head.

A hope so much di­vine
May tri­als well en­dure,
May purge our souls from sense and sin
As Christ the Lord is pure.

If in my Fa­ther’s love
I share a fi­li­al part,
Send down Thy Spir­it like a dove,
To rest up­on my heart.

We would no long­er lie
Like slaves be­neath the throne;
My faith shall Ab­ba, Fa­ther, cry,
And Thou the kin­dred own.