Maranatha

Song Meaning

The lyrics paint a picture of a spiritual gathering, an invitation to a divine space where all are welcome. There's a sense of anticipation for a promised kingdom, a place described as both the "house of the Lord" and the "city of man." This duality suggests a hope for earthly existence to be infused with divine presence and acceptance, a place where "grace is" for "all races." The repeated plea, "Come again feed Your lambs," underscores a yearning for guidance and sustenance from a higher power, with the congregants identifying themselves as the active agents: "We are Your hands." The central tension emerges from the narrator's perception of humanity's state. Initially, there's a vision of "eyes in the mirror" reflecting a "glorious cloud," a divine image found in the marginalized – the "widow, the orphan, the lame and the poor." This suggests that the divine is most visible in acts of compassion. However, this is immediately contrasted with the stark admission, "We are a broken world oh Lord." This brokenness is further complicated by the conflicting statements of worthiness: "Made worthy for the call to love" versus "Unworthy to be set apart." The most striking craft element is the juxtaposition of human action and divine grace. The lyrics declare, "We are Your hands," positioning the faithful as instruments of divine will, tasked with feeding the lambs. Yet, this agency is framed within a profound sense of unworthiness and brokenness. The act of "dying unto our selfish ways" and turning towards a "sacred heart" is presented as a transformative process, a shedding of the self to become worthy, or perhaps to accept the grace that makes them worthy despite their inherent flaws. Ultimately, the effectiveness of these lyrics lies in their raw honesty about human imperfection alongside an unwavering faith in redemption. The repeated call to action, "Come again feed Your lambs," coupled with the self-identification as "Your hands," creates a powerful dynamic of dependence and responsibility. It’s this acknowledgment of being both broken and divinely appointed that gives the plea its emotional weight, resonating with a desire for spiritual purpose even amidst perceived inadequacy.