When Laughter Feels Wrong

My grandmother used to laugh like she might get in trouble for it. Sometimes it was in church, or when one of us grandkids did something naughty but kind of cute. She would try to hide it — shoulders shaking, eyes squeezed shut — but the laughter always won. As she got older, she found humor in nearly everything, even in mistakes or imperfections.

I think of her when I read about Sarah laughing in Genesis 18. Was it a quiet chuckle or a cynical “Ha! That’ll be the day”? Either way, God called her out on it — and she denied it. But God replied, “Oh yes, you did laugh.”

A Laugh That Makes Sense

Sarah’s laughter makes sense. God had promised Abraham and Sarah a son through whom a nation would be born — when they were already 75 and 65. Now, 25 years later, at ages 100 and 90, they still had no child. Being told now that a child was coming must have felt like a cruel joke.

In Sarah’s culture, a son was everything — security, legacy, and joy. Without one, she faced a future without support or continuation of her family. After decades of longing, laughter may have been the only thing keeping her from tears.

When God said, “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?” Sarah likely thought, “Yes — this. There’s no way this body can deliver a child now.”

Doubt and Honesty

Sarah’s reaction is deeply relatable. We want to believe that God can do anything — bring justice, end wars, heal bodies, restore communities. But when reality hits, hope is hard to hold on to. “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?” we might ask, and secretly think, “Yes, some things.”

Many assume God’s words — “Yes, you did laugh” — are a rebuke. But what if they’re an invitation to honesty? What if God is saying, “I know you doubt, and that’s okay. Bring your emptiness, your lack of optimism — because this is my work, not yours.” Perhaps God is inviting Sarah (and us) to start laughing now — because joy is coming.

God Makes a Way

Israel preserved this story because it’s one of God acting when all hope is gone:

• At the Red Sea, with water ahead and an army behind, God parted the waters.
• In exile, when Israel mourned all that was lost, God provided a path home.
• After the crucifixion, when the disciples’ mission seemed over, God raised Jesus from the dead.

Again and again, God makes a way where there is none — bringing hope from hopelessness and life from barrenness. Our doubt, our self-perception of emptiness, cannot stop God’s promises.

As we watch God’s work unfold — through miraculous pregnancies, through resurrection, through despair turning into courage — our cynical laughter turns to joyful tears.

On the Brink of Something New

Our church is on the brink of something new. After 135 years, we are entering a season of discernment — praying, studying our community, and seeking how God might use our building and resources. We can’t yet see what’s ahead, but God’s promise still echoes: “At the set time I will return to you, in due season.”

Maybe you have doubts. Maybe you’ve seen plans fail, watched people drift from church, or read the statistics and thought, “Ha! That’ll never work.” God’s word to us is: bring your doubts, bring your empty hands — this is my work. We’re in it together.

We don’t know what God has planned for our congregation, our denomination, or the Church universal. But if Scripture is any indication, it will be about forgiveness, hope, justice, and abundant life. It will be too big for us to accomplish alone — too wonderful for us. So go ahead and laugh. And soon, may we laugh with Sarah at how far God has exceeded our expectations.