Laughed
Genesis 18:1-15

June 16, 2002

A country church in close proximity to a church camp seems an uneventful place. Lots of church counselors and campers would attend, including not a few retired and retiring ministers and their families staying for a holiday in the area. This church had difficulty procuring and affording a full-time minister because of its seasonal attendance, so like many others, this Sunday there was a guest preacher.

He most definitely was a preacher who probably felt more comfortable under a tent than the sedate mildewing wood of this lonely outpost of Christendom. Up and down the short aisle he ranted about the necessity to be born again, to be saved, to be washed by the blood of Jesus. He knew quickly from the lack of responsiveness of his passive congregation that there was a lot of saving to do that morning.

Sitting in the second row was a retired college chaplain, now in his 80’s, affectionately known as Uncle Sid. The frustrated evangelist swooped in for the kill, pointing his finger directly at Uncle Sid. “Are you saved?” Uncle Sid was slow to respond, as if pondering the question in his heart. “I’m working on it.”

The Bible contains lots of stories that don’t sound familiar to those accustomed to 30 minute (22 minutes, actually) sitcoms or action dramas. Some verge on fairy tales, some are miracle-saturated, others are earthy and loaded down with violent sexuality.

This story at the oaks of Mamre is simply surreal. In the heat of the day Abraham is sitting at the entrance to his tent, presumably dozing off in the in the shade. Looking up, he sees three men coming towards him across the desert. Nobody walks out in the midday sun, except mad dogs and Englishmen.

The narrative itself does not identify these three men nor does it name them. Early Christian tradition did not hesitate. Many commentators point out that the tale begins, “The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre.” God is in the singular, yet appears as three men. Voila, here comes the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Judaism and Christianity see Abraham as the recipient of God’s promise, the father of a nation under God. Muslims read this passage and see Abraham as one who is hospitable - the lover of strangers.

Oh, is Abraham hospitable! A regular mother hen, running here and there, giving orders, gathering all the elements necessary for gracious hosting. Sarah is inside the tent, and Abraham seems intent on keeping her there in her place, while he attends to his dignitaries.

However, it is really Sarah the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost want to see. “Is she really here?” Sarah appears demurely, not wishing to show up her husband. Then they zing her with the Good News. Every 89-year-old among you would jump for joy with the same news. This is the most crucial moment in the Bible thus far. If this zinger isn’t zung, the rest of the book is just a travelogue.

I heard some laughs. Yes, this is ludicrous, and God is ludicrous. To be ludicrous refers to one who is playing, so naturally Sarah laughed.

What should you be doing at the most important point in your life? How do you know this is the moment? If you think you should be laughing, most of the Christian Church most of the time has disagreed.

Ephrem the Syrian reputedly said, “Seriousness mixed with laughter destroys souls easily.” Laughter was considered poison to the souls of monks. All those dour Calvinists didn’t allow singing and certainly no smiles. Religion is serious business, and should always be treated as such.

Humour, jokes and laughter have an ability found nowhere else to help break through and transcend all our most determined defenses. Particularly in religious faith, in which the rational mind sometimes has to be left behind, humour helps one to leap through logic and make connections with a deeper reality. Laughter is the noise of God and human beings colliding.

Brother Edward told his ministerial colleagues that he had begun to preach from in the following manner: “The first half of the sermon I write it all down and have the manuscript in the pulpit with me. Then in the second half of the sermon, I let God take over.”

One Sunday Brother John was on vacation and decided to hear Brother Edward give the word. Afterwards, Edward eagerly approached John for his opinion of his preaching. “I liked your part better than God’s part,” John answered.

Brother Edward had convinced himself he was letting God preach through him, when it was really his own ego and lust for showmanship that was taking over in the second half of his sermons. Brother John’s observation meant exactly the opposite of his words. God was actually using Edward’s humble mind to preach through his written manuscript in the first half, while it was his vain self who was preaching the second part. But John had to state the ludicrous, “You’re a better preacher than God,” to get across the point.

Laughing with God can be dangerous. Sarah laughed when the suggestion was made that she might now become pregnant. She gave birth to a son and they named him Isaac, which means “he laughs.”

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan