A Prodigal Son

Tomorrow’s Gospel is the the parable of the prodigal son, (or, as I prefer to think of it, the parable of the prodigal father). In researching my sermon for tomorrow, I was moved by Christina Rossetti’s take on the parable:

DOES that lamp still burn in my Father’s house,
Which he kindled the night I went away?
I turned once beneath the cedar boughs,
And marked it gleam with a golden ray;
Did he think to light me home some day? 5

Hungry here with the crunching swine,
Hungry harvest have I to reap;
In a dream I count my Father’s kine,
I hear the tinkling bells of his sheep
I watch his lambs that browse and leap. 10

There is plenty of bread at home,
His servants have bread enough and to spare;
The purple wine-fat froths with foam,
Oil and spices make sweet the air,
While I perish hungry and bare. 15

Rich and blessed those servants, rather
Than I who see not my Father’s face!
I will arise and go to my Father,—
“Fallen from sonship, beggared of grace,
Grant me Father, a servant’s place.” 20