Unpardonable Feasts

Once in a while, the time comes to fast rather than feast.  The wrong choice at such times is usually not without significant consequences.

Many years ago, when that word first came, I published it across the land.  Then I got invited to an eminent peoples meal function in an eminent hotel by an eminent Christian outfit.  I accepted with hesitation to be present, but it became clearer with time that the season had changed.  I went.  From the very entrance to the banquet, one was welcomed to a variety of inviting delicacies.  I cast a sober glance at the tables and walked on, with no reproach against those who stopped where I couldn’t.  We probably hadn’t all heard the same sound in that season.

In the banquet hall, it was lavish “praise and worship,” with the enticing aroma of what more would follow the tables outside.  I could not bring myself to dance.  I stood awkwardly, and gaped differently.  “Should I have been here?” I checked myself.  Other such invitations I had lately declined.  My emotions were different.  There was great tribulation at the time against the Church in some parts of the land; so many Christian deaths, so much blood and tears.  It was a time to wail.

Once in a while, that season comes around for a person, or a people.  It will appear that we are there again, and some feasts could carry a tag that they had not carried at other times, in other places, to other folks.

Recently, I received a request for donations towards a Christmas function by one of our young people’s groups.  I did not respond.  I got reminders.  I ignored them.  I couldn’t bring myself to sponsor a feast in a season of blood and tears in the land.  Then their leader came.  I told him it was no season for feasting.  “O no,” he said, and assured me that it was an outreach, not a feast.  Then I was obliged to send a support after securing a promise that praying for the suffering Church and the land would be part of the event.

Lately, on social media and the press, Nigerians have expressed worry about their parliamentarians who were invited by the President’s wife to a “sumptuous” feast at the palace.  The worry was not the meal but that honoured leaders, with their queen, would call themselves to a feast when their nation was boiling with increased terrorism – suddenly escalated deaths and abductions.  One should eat, but it will appear that even the world knows that there comes a time when feasting could be unpardonable.

Once upon a time in the history of Israel, that time came to fast and mourn rather than feast and be merry, but the people could not hear the call, and they attracted to themselves a perpetual curse, as recorded by Prophet Isaiah.

12 And in that day did the Lord GOD of hosts call to weeping, and to mourning, and to baldness, and to girding with sackcloth:

13 And behold joy and gladness, slaying oxen, and killing sheep, eating flesh, and drinking wine: let us eat and drink; for to morrow we shall die.

14 And it was revealed in mine ears by the LORD of hosts, Surely this iniquity shall not be purged from you till ye die, saith the Lord GOD of hosts (Isaiah 22:12-14).

It is God who tells His people to rejoice, because some joy could be strength (Nehemiah 8:10), yet the same God, who here introduces Himself by His military title as “the Lord GOD of hosts,” the Commander of Heaven’s Army, says that there comes a “day” of war, among the many other days on the calendar, when feasting could be “iniquity.”  According to the prophet, that day came for Israel when the summons or “call” in the realms of the spirit was to “weeping, and to mourning, and to baldness, and to girding with sackcloth.”  Instead of responding to that divine “call,” the people in their carnality let themselves be distracted with their abundance; with their mirth and their wine.  They made it a day of “joy and gladness”; they ‘called’ themselves to “slaying oxen, and killing sheep, eating flesh, and drinking wine.”  Their excuse, it seemed, was that, after all, everyone would still die someday, so they proclaimed, rather callously, “Let us eat and drink; for to morrow we shall die.”  By that thoughtless proclamation, unknowingly, they also announced their sudden doom; they announced unwittingly that their present party was merely a feast preceding their sudden death soon – tomorrow.

The verdict of heaven against those senseless feasters was swift.  They had said it with their mouth.  Not only did God call their sumptuous meals “iniquity,” He said that the iniquity was of a type that “shall not be purged from you till ye die.”  In other words, it was unpardonable iniquity – for unpardonable feasts – by a people who had ignored or could not discern their season; a people tragically deaf to the divine “call” and blind to their “day” on the calendar of God; a people distracted by civilian vanities at a time of war.

Considering the many signs, I have lately noted on some pulpits in Nigeria that this season was kairus time for Nigeria to enter into her predicted next phase (Psalm 102:13); a season which, if missed, could spell great disaster tomorrow (Luke 14:41-44); a season in which to mind our feasts, or convert them into a fast.  Soon it will be Christmas, and the parties shall be loud again while in yonder part of the land some hungry Christian orphan bleeds, some pastor’s widow mourns, blood-stained empty pews cry out mutely to God, and the hurriedly discarded shoe of a slain priest lies mangled in the corner of the scorched sanctuary.

I had supposed that only blasphemy against the Holy Spirit was unpardonable (Matthew 12:32), but this privileged ‘revelation,’ whispered into the ears of Isaiah the prophet, is arresting.  Queen Esther, mind your parties in this season.

From The Preacher’s diary,

November 30, 2025.