Sojourning: The Laughter of Sarah
A Servile Faith
Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. June 14th, 2026
This morning I want to talk about two stories of laughter. The first is in our Genesis reading. Abraham is sitting at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day when he sees three visitors. He seems to recognize at least one of them because he hurries himself to greet them and bows low to the ground. He offers them generous hospitality, but gives them more than he says. He offers a little water, and he brings milk. He offers something to eat, and he slaughters the calf and bakes cakes. When he and Sarah are done working in the heat of the day, Abraham rests to eat with the visitors.
While they are eating the visitors ask Abraham “Where is your wife Sarah?”
Abraham replies, “There, in the tent.” She is eating alone rather than meeting with these strangers.
Then one of the visitors says, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.”
As it turns out Sarah was not keeping to herself this whole time, but she was listening. And when she heard that she was supposed to have a child she laughed. “After I am worn out and my master is old,” she says to herself, “will I now have this pleasure?” The whole thing seems far too outlandish, far too ridiculous. How can she but laugh at the suggestion?
But the visitor hears her laugh. “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘ will I really have a child, now that I am old? Is anything too hard for the Lord?” At this point, we are told, Sarah is afraid. She’s been spotted. And she didn’t mean to offend the visitors. So she says, “I did not laugh.” But the visitor replies, “Yes, you did laugh.”
Sarah’s fear at being spotted here contrasts mightily with Abraham’s laughter in the previous chapter. In Chapter 17, right before this account, the Lord appears to Abram. In this account he renames Abram, “Abraham,” tells him he will be the father of many nations, and gives him the covenant of circumcision.
But here is the important part for this morning. The Lord tells Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you are not longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her.” What is Abraham’s response to this promise? Does he nod sagely? Does he thank the Lord through tears?
In fact, we are told, he doubles over in laughter. “Abraham felt face down; he laughed and said to himself, ‘Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?’ And Abraham said to God, ‘If only Ishmael might live under your blessing!’” Ishmael being the son born to him from the slave woman Hagar. More on that next Sunday.
But the Lord’s response to Abraham’s laugher isn’t to ask, “why are you laughing?” And Abraham’s response isn’t fear. Rather, the Lord simply restates the promise, “Yes, but your wife Sarah will bear you a son, and you will call him Isaac.” Isaac meaning, “he laughs.” Almost as if God, here, were in on the joke. As if the Lord took joy in making Abraham laugh.
What are we to make of this? Why is Sarah’s laugh an occasion for fear while Abraham’s laugh is no problem at all? Why does Sarah try to hide her laugh when she is found out? Why does the Lord seem to rebuke her when he hears her laugher, but there is no rebuke for Abraham?
Did someone make a mistake? There are many scholars who believe Genesis is a number of independent accounts edited together. Is it possible, then, that the editor or editors of Genesis miss that they had two stories where God announces Isaac’s coming birth and someone laughs? And that they missed that they put both of these stories together? Or maybe they put the stories together wanting to put as many accounts in as possible? Or maybe these two accounts of laughter betray ancient near eastern misogyny? It’s ok for a man to laugh but not ok for a woman to laugh?
I am of the opinion that there are no mistakes in the Bible. In the least, God means for us to find something in instances such as this. Sometimes we do see the same story repeated, or an account awkwardly woven into the story. I take this as an invitation to stop and look for a deeper meaning. When we come to places like this we are meant to ponder. It is part of how Scripture works, and how God means to teach us.
In this case, I think it’s significant that Sarah is in the tent when she laughs, she is not at the dinner table. Sarah does not have the relationship with the Lord that Abraham has. In fact, this episode is her only bit of dialogue with God. A pretty awkward one. I think it is this relationship, and lack thereof, that makes the difference between Abraham’s laughter and Sarah’s laugher.
It is not that Sarah’s laugher was wrong. Her embarrassment was wrong. Her fear was wrong. But she is embarrassed because she doesn’t have that prior relationship with God that bears embarrassment. Like how we might want to make good first impressions, but when we get to know someone we can be an absolute fool in front of them. Abraham has the intimate friendship with God that allows him to kneel over in laughter at God’s promise and receive no rebuke. Sarah does not know that sort of relationship and is afraid.
Sarah is not without faith. But it is a servile faith. Abraham’s faith is great because he has the faith of a close friend or family member. His is more the faith of a Son. He is not afraid of showing his real feelings, because he has the relationship that can bear it. Whereas Sarah feels she needs to present herself in a certain way. How dare she laugh before the promises of God? And yet, it appears God thinks the promise he has made is funny as well.
In our own walk with the Lord let’s not put up appearances for God. He knows our heart. He is, in the words of St. Augustine, nearer to us than we are to ourselves. When we turn to the Lord in prayer, if we want to maintain that strong relationship, we should offer our real selves. Our fears, our doubts, our laugher, our pain. God is not looking for formalities. He desires us. He wants to hear from us what is really upon our hearts. And what we offer to God comes back transformed.