What you need to know:
- However, this revival can happen only if priests stop sleeping on their watch.
- I'm not talking about priests who wear dog-collars; but priests who wear the pants.
A mere 72 hours. That's all it takes to revive this our land and nation. Some paltry 4,320 minutes. That's how short it can take to break our three-generational curses: tribalism, corruption and - cyclically - being politically pimped.
This nation is ripe and ready for revival. Listen. Nothing can stop God's move, whose kairos moment has come. Period.
However, this revival can happen only if priests stop sleeping on their watch. I'm not talking about priests who wear dog-collars; but priests who wear the pants. As men, we're called, sans exception, to be priests in our homes. When priests ditch their duties, their congregations become vulnerable to spiritual attacks.
My fellow priests, 2022 is beckoning. The political class is plotting. Priests must, without ceasing, pray and prepare - beating our ploughshares into spiritual swords - for the sake of 50-plus million souls, and a republic that's limping to its sixtieth birthday.
Battlelines are drawn. Politicians have coalitions; priests have Christ. They may manipulate the ballot; we can plead the blood. They've got moolah to burn; we possess mighty moves of the Holy Spirit. They have forces; we have angels. They have think-tanks; we have the mind of Christ. Politicians have big names; priests have the name that's above every other name.
Here's the formula. Two days to the general election, all priests start three days and three nights dry fast. The fast is broken at dusk on election day. Dry means just that. Dry. No food. No water. No sex. And no sinning.
Scripture has accounts of people vanquishing invincible foes and saving nations, on the back of a fast. Ours is no exception. We've got three formidable foes, plus a debt-ridden donkey on its last lethargic legs.
Fellow priests, this time around, to turn around our nation, let's forget our denomination, political and tribal differences. Please.
On the day we start the fast, priests won't attend political rallies. Instead, they'll retreat to prayer mountains, prayer closets and houses of worship to fast and pray for wisdom. The wisdom that, on voting day - collectively, as a country - we'll all obey God's voice and, on the ballot papers, follow the leading of the Holy Spirit to vote for the persons who've been ordained by God; regardless of their tribe, creed, age or sex. We'll vow that - presidential to down-ballot - nobody but the Holy Spirit will tell us, right at the booth, candidates to vote for.
King Solomon asked for wisdom. God was so impressed that He gave him a blank cheque.
Ladies, we priests solemnly swear that - when our country's cup runneth over - we won't run amok. We'll employ wisdom to head our homes, rein in our appetites and overcome temptations. So help us God.
On the days of our fast, all priests will repent our sins and those of our families. We'll also lose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke. We'll share our food with the hungry, provide the poor wanderer with shelter, clothe the naked, and not turn away from our own flesh and blood.
After carrying out our civic duty - instead of tensely waiting for results, as is our custom - priests will return to "war zones" to intercede that integrity will prevail in the counting and tallying process. God is just. He's vengeance personified. He won't allow His baby to be stolen.
Only if we initiate this revival can we proclaim, with no whiff of doubt whatsoever: "Vox populi, vox Dei."
For our spiritual service, history will garland us with honour. We will be fondly remembered - according to Isaiah 58:12 - as "rebuilders of ruins, raisers of age-old foundations, repairers of broken walls and restorers of streets with dwellings".
Precious priests, the shofar is in our hands.