These two days, Pentecost and our Memorial remembrance of those from our congregation who have passed away over the past year are thrown together on the calendar this year.   For some of you, it may seem like a poor fit--the festive celebration of Pentecost and the birth of the church, the bold red—not the atmosphere for the usually solemn observation of our honored dead, the reading of the names.  Perhaps white would have been a more suitable color, the color we traditionally drape on the altar when we remember our loved ones we see no more.

          I was driving home from annual conference Friday evening, and I was thinking about how these two days don’t fit together.  I was thinking and asking God to give me some idea, some inkling of what to preach today.   I came through Offerle and could see the Spearville wind generators on the horizon in front of me.    

          And I remembered a story Dennis Livingston, the pastor from Ulysses who is our Board of Ordained Ministry chairperson told in the clergy session that opened conference.   He had been driving through the Ensign wind farm on his way to Hutchinson the day before, and he looked at all the majestic giant wind generators turning in unison in the wind, 170 of them.  All turning in the constant prairie wind we know so well.   All, that is, except one.   One faced the other direction.   And so was rotating in the opposite direction from the rest.

          I chuckled as I remembered the story, and continued to drive westward.   I also remembered visiting with my friend Kent Little, the pastor over at Cimarron at annual conference.  I had asked him what he was preaching on, and he told me… “You’re not going to believe this…but remember that story Dennis told about the windmill running backward?   Well, on MY way to Hutchinson, I drove by Spearville and saw all the wind generators turning in the wind, and you’ll never believe it.   There were two of them facing the wrong direction, but these weren’t turning backward, they weren’t turning at all—and I took out my personal recorder and said, “I’m driving by Spearville and all the windmills are all turning except two which are facing the wrong direction.”

          Interesting, I thought, two different southwest Kansas preachers, two different southwest Kansas wind farms, similar observances…all on the same week.   I came nearer Spearville, and began looking at the wind generators.     I couldn’t help but study them…yes, I was looking to see if there were any facing the wrong direction, any that were not turning, or better yet, rotating the wrong way.  Nope.   All seemed to be going perfectly, steadily, turning in the wind.   I came around the bend and began to pass by town.   And I glanced out my right window.   And you know what I saw?   There WAS one that wasn’t moving!  I’d missed it before: one lone windmill in the bunch.   But THIS one was facing the right direction--into the wind just like all the others.   But it wasn’t budging an inch, stubbornly refusing to allow its gigantic propeller to move!

          Huh!

          Three southwest Kansas preachers fixated on wind generators, and all three of us wondering what God was trying to show us, tell us.   I suppose at any given time, in a field of wind generators, there are going to be a handful that don’t turn, face the wrong way, or even turn backward.   There isn’t anything particularly astonishing in that.

          I drove on to Dodge thinking still about this sermon, this day, Pentecost and Memorial Sunday, and…the windmills.   And I became fixated on the lone hold out.  The one that wouldn’t budge.  The one that faced the wind like all the others, but refused to perform its function.   And I wondered…

          How does a wind generator like that keep from moving when the wind blows.   There must be some locking device, some notch or bar that latches the hub and keeps it from rotating.   And then I began to wonder about how hard the wind can blow in southwest Kansas, and I thought about that latch on the hub and how much pressure it can withstand, as the wind blows harder and the force on the large blades increases.   How long can it hold.   How much pressure can it withstand in its desire to resist.   To hold still.   To keep from doing what it was designed to do….to move and convert the power of that Kansas wind into energy to be transmitted and used by thousands and thousands of people.   How long can the latch lock down the generator and prevent it from fulfilling its purpose?

          There it was.  One lone wind generator, the others freely turning and generating and doing what the engineer had designed them to do.   And one stubborn hold out.   Locked up.   Facing the wind, but drawing no energy from it.   It’s only desire to stand and resist.  

          But the windmills that move, ach begins to extract a power from the wind.   A fire…sparks of energy that surprise and perhaps even frighten them a bit.   And they channel that fire and direct it, so that they can transmit it to others that this energy, this fire, this power, this wind might be of use not just to the wind generator but hundreds and thousands of others.   And so the wind generators transmit what they have received from the wind and offer it to others.  

“The rest of them…they are all drunk on new wine” I can hear the windmill saying.   Silly sticks, this wind blows and they all move.   Not me.   Not me.

But the others all continue to turn in the wind, and extract the flame that they might offer to others what they have received.  And what is that you might wonder?   What is the power of the wind, the energy of the fire?  What is it that is transmitted to the others?

Listen again to what it was that the apostles received from the wind, the fire that they offered to others, as Peter does in his speech to those gathered on that Pentecost day.

         The power of the wind.  The energy of the flame.   It is the resurrection of Christ, and the hope of resurrection of those who have died in Christ.    

By the open grave, when those who are grieving are looking at the finality of the grave and the box that is about to be lowered into it…that is when we repeat these words from the 15^th chapter of 1 Corinthians.

“For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality.  Then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."

"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"  But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

           Perhaps you have heard the ancient prayer I often repeat at  a funeral.   “O God, help us to live as those who are prepared to die.  And when our days here are accomplished, enable us to die as those who go forth to live, so that in living or dying, our life may be in you.”

          So that living or dying, our LIFE may be in you.   Hear it?   In living or dying, our LIFE…our life may be in God’s hands.

There is power in hearing that.  Knowing that.  Understanding that.  Do not resist it.  Do not refuse to move with it.   The power of the wind produces the fire that brings life to others, indeed, to all.   The life that even death cannot resist.   Thanks be to God.   Amen.