Missy had finagled her mother into telling a story.

Because Mom had a hard time thinking up stories, Missy offered to help her.

Since they were on the way to church, Mom began the story about two girls going to church, who discovered that there was a monster inside, barring the door, thus keeping them from coming into the church.

The two girls tried unsuccessfully to get in.

Then they gathered a crowd of people and they were finally able to “bang the door down” and enter.

The story continued: after church the girls went to the convenience store to purchase a newspaper for their mother, and again the monster had rushed in ahead of them and was grinning at them through the locked door.

The girls gathered their friends, and again “banged the door down” and were able to get what they needed.

Part three of the story took place at the zoo later that afternoon, where the monster had flown ahead and was laughing at them from inside the gate.

Yet again, when the girls gathered enough helpers, they were able to “bang the door down” and put the monster to flight.

By this time, Mom was getting tired of the plot of the story, but Missy was delighted with the repetition, and she supplied the line “bang the door down” with great gusto.

After several more repetitions, Mom said that the monster was disgusted with losing all the time, and went to live on an island far across the sea.

Mom thought that would put an end to the story, but Missy helped again, triumphantly saying, “and then they banged down the sea.”

Mom had thought that the sea would be an impenetrable barrier, and that would be the end of it, but Missy had more of an Easter-type faith.

 

She trusted that the forces of evil were no match for good, no matter what the obstacle.

What was the sea, but just another doorway for the people to cross.

 

At Easter, it is God leading that group of people, and banging down the door, overcoming every impediment, and finally announcing the sure and certain end of the monster.

The monster, which is known by many names, especially “death”, is on the run; there are no more places for him to hide.

Every one of his favorite haunts has been exposed to the light.

 

He thought he would stand in front of the Hebrews and block their way out of Egypt.

The sea seemed to form a dead end for the Hebrews, who saw the Egyptians close upon their heels.

But God “banged down the sea”, allowing the Hebrews to cross, but drowning the Egyptian charioteers.

And so we sing the song with Miriam, which scholars claim is one of the very oldest written parts of the Bible, the song which announces that the monster is on the run.

 

The monster of death loses each encounter he has with God, because of that time when he tried to hold Jesus prisoner.

Christ's shameful death on the cross seemed to separate him from his disciples and place him in the hands of death.

The tomb slams shut.

But God “bangs the door down”, showing that there is no place or no condition which can hold God at bay.

It was a firm a majestic promise that God had made, which is now guaranteed by the resurrection.

 

God shows that to us  at our own Baptism.

When we face the water that could drown us, the monster laughs.

But his laughter comes too soon.

Water is no barrier to God;

            just as he reaches through death to Jesus, so also he reaches through water to us, and promises us that same life.

The laughter is ours:

            Wherefore let us joyful be

            and sing to God right thankfully

            Loud songs of hallelujah!

                                                            [LBW132]

What of the monster?

            Stripped of power, no more he reigns;

            An empty form alone remains.

            His sting is lost forever. Praise God.

 

The monster holes up here and there, but God will root him out each time.

He will try to hide here in church, attempting to make this a strange and scary place for the timid or fearful.

But God bangs open the door and makes it clear that this is not an exclusive club for the perfect,

but the place where sinners are forgiven and reconciled with God and each other.

 

The monster tries to stand between us and the rest of the natural world.

He tries to disguise himself and slide up to us and whisper confidentially that the most important things is taking care of ourselves,

and we shouldn't really be overly concerned about anything or anyone else.

But God bangs down that disguise, exposes the monster,

and shows us God's vision of all creation and humanity re-made, re-ordered, and at peace with each other.

 

The monster's barriers and disguises are not effective on us anymore,

for no matter how clever, we recognize in them the smell of death.

Whether it is

--despair over lost opportunities,

--grief over lost companions,

--illnesses of body or spirit,

--loneliness of an empty home or lost hope,

--or even the rut of the same old thing over and over again.

 

The monster can hide behind them all, but the smell of death gives him away.

We recognize the stench whenever it appears, because our hearts and minds and mouths and noses are filled this day with the promises of our Lord Jesus.

 

The promise is announced for us:

the power of God which will  break down every obstacle that would destroy or impede us, even the power of death.

 

Luther's hymn is the very best one for us to use to celebrate the truth of this epic battle, and the great result:

 

Christ Jesus lay in death's strong bonds

For our offenses given;

But now at God's right hand he stands

And brings us power from heaven.

By his grace he doth impart

Eternal sunshine to the heart

The night of death is ended. Hallelujah.

 

Christ “banged  down the door”!

or, as we regularly say in this season:

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!

 

Amen.