I’m always glad to hear the sounds of grace. I’ve just hit the plot-twist in Charles Dicken’s famous novel David Copperfield. Two of Copperfield’s best friends, from opposite social stations, have run off together, breaking everyone’s heart – the girl’s fiancé, the girl’s adopted father, the boy’s mother, and the boy’s de facto governess.

This governess feels nothing but distain for the girl who supposedly lured the boy away, and spews out her hatred with volcanic fury. “I would have her branded on the face, drest in rags, and cast out in the streets to starve. If I had the power to sit in judgement on her, I would see it done. See it done? I would do it!….. If I could hunt her down to her grave, I would. If there was any word of comfort that would be a solace to her in her dying hour, and only I possessed it, I wouldn’t part with it for Life itself.”

But as the girl’s ‘father’ departs on a rescue mission, he plans for the scenario that while he’s away, his ‘daughter’ might return home; and so instructs that a candle be set in the window, and that the house not be altered, so that if she did return, she would easily find her way. Who can read that, and not feel the pounding heart of the Father in Jesus’ famous parable about the prodigal son? And who can read that, and not give preference to grace.