Lyrics
Behold a stranger at the door!
He gently knocks, has knocked before,
Has waited long, is waiting still;
You treat no other friend so ill.
But will He prove a friend indeed?
He will — the very Friend you need!
The Man of Nazareth, 'tis He,
With garments dyed at Calvary.
O lovely attitude! He stands
With melting heart and laden hands!
O matchless kindness! And He shows
This matchless kindness to His foes.
Admit Him, for the human breast
Ne'er entertained so kind a guest;
No mortal tongue their joys can tell
With whom He condescends to dwell.
Public domain hymn text (1765), based on Revelation 3:20.
The Story Behind the Hymn
"Behold a Stranger at the Door" was written by Joseph Grigg and published in 1765 in his collection Four Hymns on Divine Subjects. Grigg was born around 1720 to poor parents and, according to early accounts, began composing hymns and religious verse as young as age ten. As a young man he served briefly as assistant minister at Silver Street Presbyterian Church in London, but the arrangement did not last: he resigned the position and, after marrying a woman of some property, spent the remainder of his life as a layman rather than a settled minister.
Of the hymns Grigg wrote, only two saw any lasting wide use — this one and "Jesus, and Shall It Ever Be," a hymn on the theme of not being ashamed of Christ, also part of this collection. The original text ran to eleven stanzas; the four sung today are a later abridgment that keeps the hymn's central image intact while trimming its length for congregational use.
That central image is drawn directly from Revelation 3:20, where Christ says, "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock." Grigg's verses dwell on the patience implied in that knocking — a friend who has waited long and is waiting still, treated worse than any other friend would be tolerated. The third verse turns the image toward wonder rather than guilt: hands laden with gifts, kindness extended even to those who have refused it.
Little else is recorded of Grigg's life beyond these bare facts, and he died in 1768, only a few years after the hymn's publication. What survived him was this single, spare picture of a knock at the door — simple enough that later hymnal editors felt free to shorten it, and durable enough that the shortening did nothing to diminish it.
