Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said in his heart, “Shall a child be born to a man who is one hundred years old? And shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?” ... Then God said: “No, Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac (which means he laughs)... (Gen, 17,17.19)

This is already the second visitation in which Abram struggles for faith right before the face of God. We mentioned that the first covenant in Gen. 15 would not have come into being at all if Abram had not asked God for a sign ("by what do I know?"). Now Abram is in a similar situation, but with the difference that in the meantime he has thrown in the towel and decided for his own solution, for which he did not need God. That's why it's harder for him to believe now than it was the first time. He is now deeply disappointed in his soul, because after the first covenant he waited for God for months, but nothing happened. Should he give up what he already has firmly in hand and exchange it again for the doubtful uncertainty in which he has already been disappointed once?

Every encounter with God was extraordinary for Abram. The presence of divine life-giving power overshadowing him was an indescribable experience. But now he was thrown into such inner turmoil by God's words about the birth of another child (after all, he already had a son!) that he lost control of how he reacted. He found himself laughing right in front of God at the thought that it might be true. It was as if he was saying: if you're serious about this, God, you're a little late. Back then, thirteen years ago, when we were waiting for you, maybe it was still possible. But now it's really over. Neither Sarah nor I can definitely have children anymore.

Faith, in the biblical sense of trust, is not given to anyone somehow unwittingly, as unbelievers sometimes think. As if God gave it to someone and denied it to another one, so that he cannot believe and therefore there is no use in trying to attain it. But it is not so. In fact, faith is born in struggle and is fought for as one rises from the valley of unbelief to the heights of faith. Abraham, the father of faith, walked this path before us, and God acknowledged his struggle with kind humor (Isaac gets a name to commemorate Abram's hidden laughter). Why? Because in the course of his conversation with God, Abram eventually came to the point where he wanted to believe again - but in his human frailty, he just couldn't. How do we know? By the actions that followed that conversation. Abram finally obeyed God in everything God asked of him, and this obedience is the fruit of faith (Jm 2:14, J 14:21) It says more about our heart and attitude toward God than words. When Abram spoke to God, his attitude was like that of the father of the possessed boy, "I believe, just help my unbelief!"

How precious it is that we can profess the same thing at times when we fail to rise by faith above our problems and are seized with gloom - or ironic laughter at what would be the point of going on when there clearly is no way forward.