Sermon: “Oh yes, you did laugh.”

Text: Genesis 18:1-15

11^th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

June 15, 2008

Scripture introduction.  Our second reading this morning is the story of how God appeared to Abraham and Sarah at their tent and for the third time[1] promised them that they would have a child in their old age.  The story is somewhat confusing because, while the first verse tells us that it was God who appeared, in the next verse suddenly there are three visitors.  At times they are referred to in the plural and at times the singular.  After the first verse, it is not clear whether God is with the three men, or is one of the three men, or if they all are a manifestation of God.  After the conclusion of this morning’s passage, as the narrative of Genesis continues, God hangs back to speak to Abraham as the two other men proceed to the town of Sodom.  When they arrive at Sodom, they are referred to as angels or messengers.  Our New Revised Standard Version does a pretty good job of following the original Hebrew, so if you read closely you will hear some of the ambiguity about just who these visitors are.  One thing, however, is very clear from the Hebrew: it is God who speaks to Sarah about her laughter.

A few Sundays ago I preached about the doctrine of the Trinity, and I suggested that the Early Church had been too quick to accept at least one proposition of Greek philosophy—that God was too pure and abstract to have any feelings.  Of course, Jesus himself is our best evidence that God has feelings and cares for us.  But also the Old Testament is filled with stories like the one this morning, in which God participates in the everyday stuff of human life, actually appearing in person and having a normal—even humorous—conversation.

Sermon.  There are so many directions we could go with our reading this morning.  We could compare this morning’s story with the many places in the Old Testament where God is reported to have been seen by humans.  These other, similar, stories are often ambiguous about whether the person in the story is seeing God, a human, or an angel, or in some cases all three.[2]  And it would be important to contrast with those stories the Old Testament passages that assume God is so holy and so mysterious that even to catch a glimpse of God would bring certain death.[3]

Another direction we might go would be to think about the importance of hospitality in the culture of the Old Testament.  Abraham had pitched his tent at a crossroads near Hebron, so he could have anticipated that there would be many calls upon his hospitality.  Especially in Jewish tradition, it is Abraham’s hospitality that sets him apart from other persons and makes him God’s worthy choice to be the father of many nations.[4]  I have mentioned before that every version of law and every major kind of literature in the Old Testament required the Israelites to show hospitality to the foreigners and strangers and other vulnerable persons who lived among them.  When the three visitors arrive, Abraham says he is going to bring them a piece of bread, but then he turns and tells the servant to kill a choice calf and instructs Sarah to make bread with about eight gallons of the best flour.  That’s a lot of food.

But as I hinted in the scripture introduction, I want to focus this morning on that wonderful exchange between God and Sarah—the one about her laughter.  For starters, let’s not look down our noses at Sarah just because she laughed, assuming that she lacked faith in God’s promise.  In our first reading[5] this morning, Paul didn’t really tell the whole story about Abraham.  Paul wrote, and I quote, “No distrust made [Abraham] waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith . . . .”  And, Paul said, it was this faith that was “reckoned to [Abraham] as righteousness.”  But in Genesis 17, the chapter before our reading this morning, after God tells Abraham that Sarah will have a child in her old age, Abraham [and again I quote] “fell on his face and laughed.”  At least Sarah only laughed “to herself”!  If laughing did not prevent Abraham from having faith, neither should we hold it against Sarah. 

Now, to be sure, Sarah did not answer God truthfully.  Here our New Revised Standard translation is a little anemic.  It says that Sarah “denied,” but the Hebrew is more emphatic—using a word that means to “deceive” or to “lie.”  Well, maybe we should not be too hard on Sarah even for this.  She must have been shocked that the visitor outside the tent, who could not see her, knew that she had laughed to herself.  Caught off guard and surprised, she was afraid.  Note that God did not condemn her deceit; God merely corrected it, showing her that God knew the truth.  We can all imagine ourselves in Sarah’s position.  If God did not judge her, then why should we?

In the broad scope of the Bible, this story is very serious; for it is a part of the history of that family by which God chose to bless the world.[6]   Yet sometimes I wonder—must we always approach the biblical text with great solemnity; can we grasp its meaning only if our brow is wrinkled and our lips are pursed?  What if some parts of the Bible were intended to be humorous?  It makes all the difference in the world, doesn’t it?  Take today’s passage for example.  Is God frowning or smiling when God tells Sarah, “Oh yes, you did laugh.”  There is nothing in the text to suggest that God is displeased with Sarah.  And there is much to suggest that this is a funny incident.  Remember that Abraham, too, in the previous chapter laughed when he heard the news—a real knee-slapper!  And the child who “in due season” was born to Sarah and Abraham—his name was Yitzhak (Isaac), which means “he laughs.”  The derivation of the name probably suggests that God was the one laughing.  Maybe God thought it funny that people did not believe the wondrous things God could do.  Maybe the laughter came from sheer joy in granting the heartfelt desires of Abraham and Sarah for a son.  As I understand our text this morning, it seems to me that God is not so much interrogating Sarah, as wanting her to admit the humor so that God can laugh with her.

And what if some other passages and stories in the Bible were intended to be humorous?  What about the story of Jonah, which our Women’s Bible Study focused on this year?  When God called him to be a missionary to the fearsome city of Nineveh, Jonah went the other way because Jonah did not like Ninevites.  So God sent a big fish to swallow him and transport him back to Nineveh.  Could that be another example of God laughing?  In the Genesis story of God’s creation of the world, when God made “all things bright and beautiful” and God declared it all good, can’t we imagine a broad smile on God’s face?  And what about the New Testament?  Is it possible that even Jesus had a sense of humor?  Just think about some of his examples—the camel trying to go through the eye of a needle,[7] or the friend who wanted bread at midnight.[8]  To tell you the truth, it’s hard for me to imagine Jesus without a sense of humor.

Those of you who were not able to participate in vacation Bible school last week, I wish you could have seen the good humor and joy that was on the faces of those kids.  Some of the children who last year were tentative and somewhat afraid of the whole thing this year came barreling in the door asking where were the activities and the refreshments and renewing their friendships with children from the other churches.  Some parents told me that their kids began asking in the early afternoon whether it was 6:00 yet —time to go to Bible school.  Once they got there, fun and laughter filled the air.  And you know what—I think I heard some adult leaders laughing, too.  Could it be that God’s own Holy Spirit was in the midst of all those children and that God was laughing harder than any of us?  What about in our fellowship time after church downstairs?  Could your (somewhat more restrained) enjoyment be evidence of God’s Spirit of delighted love?

Friends, God’s presence fills the world.  In God we live and move and have our very being.[9]  To be sure we are not God, and God is not us.  God is different.  God is holy, and God is not to be trifled with.  Yet God is not aloof.  God has feelings.  When we are suffering, God understands and responds because God suffers, too.  God suffers for us.  And if God knows suffering, it must be that God also knows joy and delight.  Surely God wants us to live lives of holy laughter, enjoying creation and the Creator.  The very first question and answer in the Westminster catechisms remind us that the main purpose, the “chief end,” of humanity is to glorify God and to enjoy God forever.[10]  So when we read the Bible, let’s don’t put God in a box that keeps God’s humor from coming through.  Let’s be open to the blessings of humor and joy that are right there in our scriptures.  When God asks us the question, may we answer, “Oh yes, I did laugh!”