Oh yes, you did laugh.
Sarah, in her tent in the middle of the day, long past hope, laughs. The stranger that Abraham is entertaining repeats the old, old promise that she would have a son. The words carry across the shimmering midday air to ears that are still sharp enough to hear this promise repeated. And, she laughs.
Like you, I’ve heard Sarah’s laughter in this moment criticized as bitter, even sinful. She dares to laugh at the promises of God. She shows her lack of faith. She doubts God.
But this is wrong. Sarah isn’t punished for her laughter. She isn’t chastised for doubt or unbelief. No, the stranger calls it out. He makes it clear that she did laugh. And there was nothing to fear. Laughter, after all, is the sound that hope makes.
While the cable news networks have largely stopped covering them, protests continue in this country. Peaceful marches, prayers, gatherings continue to happen in city after city. There is a sense that things are different this time. That this moment is a true moment of change.
As a white male, I am looking at this with a cautious hope. I want this to be a transformational moment for this country. I pray we will finally begin to reckon with our history, the way we’ve built our society to lift some above others. But, I worry this is just one more moment that will see surface changes that leave the root issues untouched.
If this is how I, someone who has benefitted from the current state, feel, how do those who have lived on the other side of this system, those who have had to work harder and put up with more obstacles feel? Are they, perhaps, afraid that this will all fade like the summer dusk and everything will go back to the way it was?
Sarah, we’re told, was afraid. The assumption is that she feared the reaction of the stranger who came bearing this old promise. But I think she was afraid of what anyone who has waited so long fears, that she would be disappointed. No, she tells the stranger, I did not laugh; because, I dare not let anyone know that I still have hope.
Laughter is the sound of hope bubbling up. It is not a scoffing at what surely cannot be but a exclamation of joy amidst despair. It is the small flame within us that is gasping but not yet snuffed. And when we hear it, from our own lips, we fear; because, it means we still hope and hope means we can again be disappointed. It means we still believe things can change.
This moment in which we find ourselves is one that speaks to the hope within us: that the world can change, that the way of things is not the way they will always be. It is a moment where we just may find that something new, something long-expected may be born.
And, then, oh yes, we will laugh.