He sees him coming along the weary way,
no longer with servants attending, no longer in
rich robes, but ragged, poor, in worn-out
sandals.
He comes along the highway with the scent
of the swineherd, and the stain of the
flesh parts upon him.
Creeping along, sick, sore, and weary, he says,
Oh, if I could but be one of
my father's hired servants, is it he?
Can that be?
Oh, God, can that be he, who wept
only a few months ago, so strong, so
happy, so bright, with the world all before
him?
Can that be?
It is, it is he.
Will the father reject?
Will the father not see?
I gave you your fortune, and you have
tainted it all in riotous living.
Stay away.
No, no, the father saw him afar off,
and he ran to tail this snake, and
he kissed him, not heeding his stupidity and
his rag.
The father interrupted the prayer of the prodigal,
after that son had confessed to sin, and
asked if he might become a slave.
In the father's house, there are no slaves
in our father's house, and so the father
would not listen to that cry, make me
as one of thy hired servants.
We are all sons and daughters of Jehovah
God, the Almighty.
There are no slaves in God's great house.
Thank God for that.
Why then should we be slaves to Satan,
and to sin, and to disease, and to
death, and to hell?
The father took him, and kissed him.
He told the servants to bring the vessel,
and the signet ring that made him controller
of his father's estate.
He told them to get out the musical
instruments of the dancers, and to make merry
and be glad.
Spread the feet, for this my son would
stay.
Praise to me, praise to mother, praise to
purity, praise to God, and he is alive
again.