Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
Religion columnist
link Curtis Shelburne
Until it became obvious to me at our community’s Easter sunrise service a few years ago, I had no idea the population of my town included so many roosters.
Or maybe there aren’t that many. Maybe we have just one or two who’ve been granted the gift of uncommon volume and unflagging energy.
In any case, early on that particular Easter morning, as we stood outside near the tennis courts in the park praising God in our annual Community Easter Sunrise Service, the human worshipers there assembled were not the only ones lifting their voices. So were the local roosters.
I assume those good birds lift their voices every morning about that time, though I’m not usually out and about to hear it. But they were certainly in fine form that Sunday.
If some way-too-buttoned-up, nay-saying, kill-joy of a rooster was standing lock-jawed by the fence, sullenly and silently deriding his loudly crowing compadres for their voluminous joy, we certainly weren’t aware of it. I doubt you could actually find a rooster of that depressive and depressing variety. Roosters know better. When the sun comes up, it’s time to crow. And I thank God for humans who know that when the Son rises, it’s time to praise him.
Unfortunately, whenever praises resound, if you look around (and I hope you don’t — I hope you’re too busy praising the Lord yourself to notice), you’ll almost always find one or two thin-lipped sad-sacks with calcified hearts standing around stone-cold-silent, unmoved except to hurl criticism toward others whose spirits are joyful and whose hearts are warm.
That was the case way back in 2 Samuel 6 when King David, the “man after God’s own heart,” a man whose heart often overflowed with joy and praise, led the holy Ark of the Covenant back home after its long absence.
King David, filled with joy, was “leaping and dancing before the Lord,” and his sullen wife, Michal, Saul’s daughter, watched from a window and later derided him. To the day of her death, evidently, she remained sullen, joyless, and childless.
And then there was the time on that first Palm Sunday when Jesus entered Jerusalem and was hailed as a conquering king. Some of the Pharisees, full of themselves and the kind of toxic religion that leaves no room for God, derided those who praised the Lord. “Teacher,” they coldly whined, “rebuke your disciples!”
You remember Jesus’ famous reply, don’t you?
“I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”
If you’re a child of the King, don’t forget to praise him. It would be a real shame to let roosters and rocks do all the praising.
Curtis Shelburne is pastor of 16th & Ave. D. Church of Christ in Muleshoe. Contact him at: