Can we laugh?

This morning I have seen smiles and heard laughter as people have gathered and greeted each other. Today we know what it is like to be able to gather and mark a change in the way we are able to come together for worship and fellowship. It seems to me that the Genesis story of Abraham and Sarah is one to share on this happy occasion – a time to recall their laughter; and, a time to recall why they were so happy.

Today, we know that laughter has many voices that reveal different things about us. Derision and scorn can explode into sarcastic laughter that intends to humiliate. The giggles of children, entirely unselfconscious, hearten us with their unfettered joy. Poking fun at our own human frailty, foibles, and the occasional faux pas is almost always healthy.

In this morning’s Genesis story we encounter yet another type of laughter, the dismissive laughter of incredulity. The matriarch Sarah, Abraham’s wife, laughed at God’s improbable promise to her that she would bear a child and become the ‘mother of nations’. Then she lied to deny her doubt. Sarah was standing at the entrance to their tent. She eavesdropped on Abraham as he conversed with three travelers who had visited him. They delivered a crazy message from God – about this time next year Sarah, your wife, will bear a son. This was the second time Abraham had received this promise. When he heard it the first time, he fell down, 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? Sarah responded in an identical manner when she heard the stupendous suggestion. She laughed in disbelief. We heard that God rebuked her for her doubt. Then, later, we heard that God did not shame Sarah in a punitive manner. Quite the contrary we heard that ‘the Lord did for Sarah what he had promised’. Then, I discovered something more ... the baby was given the name Isaac ... a Hebrew name, which in the English language means “he laughs”. Their son of laughter, named Isaac, would always remind his parents of their disbelief.

This morning I have reheard the story of Abraham and Sarah: one citing disbelief and doubt, laced with laughter, lies and denial; out of which shines Sarah’s sense of fulfilment and consolation. We normally think of Abraham and Sarah as paragons of the faith. The New Testament casts them in that light in Romans 4: 18 - 25, Hebrews 11: 11, and in 1 Peter 3: 6. Today’s account demonstrates how God’s drama of salvation is not a story of great saints so far removed from our own experiences that we could never hope to emulate them. We’ve heard a story of messy characters, marked by some as ‘down and dirty’ sinners, portrayed with faults and failures. How like us.

I’m sure there were times in recent weeks that our thoughts were inflamed by doubts about whether we would be able to meet as we are today. There were some in Aotearoa who viewed the restrictions placed on us as some sinister dastardly plot to take away our freedoms to worship and to impose a godless regime.

My title for these words today – Can we laugh? – asks a question that I hope we are able to give an enthusiastically positive response to. I am sure that by regathering this morning we are signalling to each other that we are ready to laugh ... that we are ready to welcome each other back into our fellowship ... that we are ready to recognise that even though we have had doubts, we were able to begin our service this morning confidently singing those questions: what troubles have we seen, what conflicts have we passed, fighting without and fears within since we assembled last? ... and then confidently proclaim we are ready! Am I right?

I have heard it said, and affirm, that God draws ‘straight lines with a crooked stick’: meaning God can and does work with us and within us. We are unlikely people available to be used to do great things. May the canvas we present allow God’s straight lines to be drawn. And may we be active and determined labourers in God’s vineyard, now and in the future. May this be so. Amen.