The Laughter of God's Faithfulness Text: Genesis 21:1-7
Introduction: God's Appointed Time
We live in an age of impatience. We want what we want, and we want it now. We have instant coffee, instant communication, and an instant gratification mindset that infects everything, including our theology. We treat God's promises like a vending machine. We put in our prayer, pull the lever, and expect the desired outcome to drop neatly into the tray. When it doesn't, we're tempted to kick the machine, or worse, to walk away and conclude that the whole operation is a sham.
Abraham and Sarah were not strangers to this temptation. For twenty-five years, they had been living with a promise from God that seemed, by every natural standard, to be utterly impossible. God had promised a son, a seed through whom all the nations of the earth would be blessed. But the years rolled on, their bodies grew old, and the nursery remained empty. Their own attempts to "help" God, their fleshly schemes with Hagar, had only brought strife and sorrow into their home. They had learned, the hard way, that God's promises are not fulfilled by man's contrivances.
This passage is the glorious, joyful, laughter-filled culmination of that long wait. It is a potent reminder that God is a covenant-keeping God. He is never early, He is never late; He arrives at the appointed time. His Word does not return to Him void. The world may operate on the principle of cause and effect, on what is likely and what is possible. But God operates on the principle of promise and fulfillment. He speaks, and worlds come into being. He promises, and dead wombs spring to life. This is not just a quaint story about an elderly couple having a baby. This is a foundational lesson in the grammar of faith. It teaches us that God's delays are not His denials, and that His timing is an instrument of His perfect wisdom.
The birth of Isaac is a crucial link in the chain of redemption. Without Isaac, there is no Jacob. Without Jacob, no Judah. Without Judah, no David. And without David, no Christ. Everything hangs on this moment, on God's faithfulness to a promise that seemed laughable to everyone involved. And as we will see, God takes that very laughter, the laughter of unbelief, and transforms it into the laughter of pure, unadulterated joy.
The Text
Now Yahweh visited Sarah as He had said, and Yahweh did for Sarah as He had promised.
So Sarah conceived and bore a son to Abraham in his old age, at the appointed time of which God had spoken to him.
And Abraham called the name of his son who was born to him, whom Sarah bore to him, Isaac.
Then Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old, as God had commanded him.
Now Abraham was one hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him.
And Sarah said, “God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.”
And she said, “Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age.”
(Genesis 21:1-7 LSB)
Promise Made, Promise Kept (v. 1-2)
The chapter opens with a drumbeat of divine faithfulness.
"Now Yahweh visited Sarah as He had said, and Yahweh did for Sarah as He had promised. So Sarah conceived and bore a son to Abraham in his old age, at the appointed time of which God had spoken to him." (Genesis 21:1-2)
Notice the repetition. "As He had said... as He had promised... of which God had spoken." The Holy Spirit is driving a point home with a sledgehammer. This event is not an accident. It is not a fortunate coincidence. It is the direct result of God's sovereign, verbal commitment. The name Yahweh is used here, the covenant name of God. This is not some generic deity; this is the God who binds Himself by His own Word and character to His people.
The word "visited" is a rich theological term. It doesn't mean God just dropped by for a chat. A divine visitation is a powerful intervention in human history to bless or to judge. God visited Egypt in judgment with plagues. He visited His people in the wilderness with manna. Here, He visits Sarah's barrenness with life. This is a redemptive visitation. It is God stepping into the realm of the impossible to accomplish His purposes.
And it all happened "at the appointed time." God is the Lord of the calendar. A year earlier, God had told Abraham, "I will surely return to you at this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son" (Genesis 18:10). And here we are. God's promises are not vague hopes; they are appointments set in the divine schedule. This is why faith is not a leap in the dark; it is resting on the character of the one who set the appointment. Our impatience often stems from our ignorance of God's timetable. We want the fruit now, but God knows the necessary season of waiting, of plowing, of watering, that must come first. The twenty-five years of waiting were not wasted time; they were faith-building time. They were the necessary process of stripping Abraham and Sarah of all self-reliance, so that when the child finally came, there would be no confusion about who got the glory. It wasn't Abraham's virility or Sarah's latent fertility. It was Yahweh, and Yahweh alone.
Covenant Naming and Marking (v. 3-5)
Abraham's response is one of simple, straightforward obedience.
"And Abraham called the name of his son who was born to him, whom Sarah bore to him, Isaac. Then Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old, as God had commanded him. Now Abraham was one hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him." (Genesis 21:3-5 LSB)
First, he names the boy Isaac. This was a direct command from God back in chapter 17. The name means "he laughs." This name would be a permanent, walking, talking sermon in their household. It was a reminder of their own initial, skeptical laughter. When God first told Abraham he would have a son by Sarah, Abraham "fell on his face and laughed" (Genesis 17:17). When Sarah overheard the same promise, she "laughed to herself" (Genesis 18:12). It was the laughter of incredulity. "A son, for us? At our age? You must be joking."
But God is a master of divine irony. He takes the very name born of their doubt and makes it the name of the promise fulfilled. He turns their cynical chuckle into a shout of joy. Every time they called for their son, "Isaac!", they would be testifying to God's power to override human unbelief. God has a sense of humor, and He is not afraid to put the punchline right in the middle of our living rooms.
Second, Abraham circumcises Isaac on the eighth day. This is not just a family tradition; it is a covenantal act. Circumcision was the sign and seal of the Abrahamic covenant, a physical mark in the flesh that set apart the people of God. It was a bloody sign, pointing forward to the fact that the ultimate covenant-keeper, the true seed of Abraham, would have to shed His blood to deal with the sin that separates us from God. By circumcising his son, Abraham was not just obeying a rule. He was formally enrolling his son in the covenant. He was saying, "This child does not belong to me, ultimately. He belongs to Yahweh. He is part of God's great redemptive story." This act of obedience demonstrates that Abraham's faith is no longer theoretical. He has seen God's faithfulness, and he responds with his own.
The Laughter of Joy (v. 6-7)
Now we get Sarah's response, and it is the heart of the passage.
"And Sarah said, 'God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.' And she said, 'Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age.'" (Genesis 21:6-7 LSB)
Here is the transformation, full and complete. The private, hidden, skeptical laughter of Genesis 18 has been turned into public, open, infectious laughter of pure joy. "God has made laughter for me." This is not the laughter of mockery, but the laughter of miracle. It is the joyful astonishment that comes when God does something so outrageously good, so contrary to all expectation, that you can't do anything but laugh.
And notice, her joy is not a private affair. "Everyone who hears will laugh with me." True, godly joy is never selfish; it is evangelistic. It wants to pull others in. When God does a great work in your life, it is not just for you. It is for the encouragement and edification of the whole community of faith. Sarah's testimony becomes a source of joy for everyone who hears it. It is a story that will be told for generations, a story of God's power to bring life out of death.
Her final statement is a rhetorical question dripping with wonder. "Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children?" The answer, of course, is nobody. No sane person would have predicted this. The fertility clinics would have sent her home. The actuaries would have laughed her out of the office. But God said it. And that is the only word that matters. Her statement is a confession of the sheer gratuity of God's grace. This is not something she earned or deserved. It is a gift, pure and simple, poured out on her in her old age.
From Isaac to Christ
As with all the great stories in Genesis, we must learn to read this with New Testament eyes. The birth of Isaac is a glorious story in its own right, but it is also a signpost pointing to a greater birth. Isaac is the son of the promise, born miraculously to a barren woman long past the age of childbearing. This entire narrative is a type, a foreshadowing, of the birth of Jesus Christ.
Jesus is the ultimate Son of the Promise, the true seed of Abraham. He was born even more miraculously, not from a dead womb, but from a virgin's womb. Just as the birth of Isaac was a divine intervention that defied all natural laws, the virgin birth of Christ was a singular, supernatural act of God. The Holy Spirit who "visited" Sarah's womb also overshadowed Mary's womb. In both cases, God brought forth life where, by nature, there should have been none.
The laughter that surrounded Isaac's birth finds its ultimate fulfillment in the joy of the resurrection. The cross was a moment of supreme sorrow. It looked like the promise had died. It looked like the seed had been crushed, not on the heel, but completely. The disciples were scattered, hopeless. But on the third day, God had the last laugh. He turned the world's greatest tragedy into the world's greatest triumph. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is God's triumphant laughter in the face of sin, death, and the devil. "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" (1 Corinthians 15:55). That is the taunt of resurrected joy.
And because of Christ, this promise of laughter is extended to us. We, like Sarah, were barren. We were dead in our trespasses and sins, unable to produce any spiritual life. But God, in His mercy, visited us. He spoke His life-giving Word into our dead hearts. He caused us to be born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God (1 Peter 1:23). Our salvation is an Isaac-birth. It is a miracle. And our response should be the same as Sarah's: "God has made laughter for me."
The Christian life is one of joyful laughter. Not a silly, superficial happiness, but a deep, robust joy rooted in the finished work of Christ and the faithfulness of God. It's a joy that can look at impossible circumstances, at our own weaknesses, at a hostile world, and still laugh, not in disbelief, but in faith. We laugh because we know how the story ends. We know that God keeps His promises, that He brings life from death, and that He has an appointed time for all things. And at the final consummation, when we see Him face to face, our joy will be complete, and we will laugh with Sarah, and with all the saints, forever.