Therefore she said to Abraham, “Cast out this bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman shall not be heir with my son, namely with Isaac.” And the matter was very displeasing in Abraham’s sight because of his son. (Gen 21,10-11)

At first overwhelming joy, but then great sorrow... Until Isaac came, the camp was quiet, so it was quite clear who could afford what and how the roles were divided. But now Abraham was "greatly troubled". If he had to part with something obviously evil, he surely would not have worried or regretted it. Like any man, he would probably have had difficulty seeing and acknowledging it at first, but after he had come to that conclusion, he would have taken the expulsion of the evil thing as a relief.

But the problem called Ishmael, in short, was that it was not evil, quite the contrary. After all, he was his own son! From the time of his birth, he saw him as the chief heir to the whole farm and house, because from his point of view, God was not fulfilling His ancient promise. But now everything was turned upside down. God had come and confirmed that what He had said had always been true, and it had never changed. Abraham wondered how many times this God had actually surprised him...

Now there was clearly no avoiding it. Isaac would be in permanent danger from his older brother, Ishmael was only 13 years old now, but he was already showing hostility, and the claim to the inheritance could escalate into a mortal dispute at any time. It was clear that Hagar and Ishmael saw things differently than that they should be put on the back burner for good. The descent from glory was extremely humbling for them, and so they were left with one last hope: Abraham's apparent weakness for his firstborn son. Sarah, sensing this, took the initiative and urged her husband: you must resolve this as soon as possible, while you still have strength enough. Ishmael must go.

Until Isaac came, the situation in the camp was "stable". However, the arrival of a purely heavenly seed in an environment already accustomed to half-heartedness will bring about a major crisis. The same is true in Scripture of every mixture of the holy and the unholy as practiced by Israel for centuries, and by the church after its decline into lukewarmness. The Word will come and bring unrest, a separation of the holy from the unholy (or from what is holy only in outward appearance). And the same is true in the life of every man as he wages the struggle for a victorious life, trying to reach it by his own strength or on the contrary by the power of the Holy Spirit.

And Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, scoffing. (Gen 21,9)

It would seem that the joy of Isaac's birth must overwhelm everyone, that everyone would share it with Sarah, but after a few years, it mercilessly became apparent that this would not be true. There was a growing tension between Hagar and Ishmael on one side and Sarah and Isaac on the other. Hagar tried to hide it within herself, but still there was no doubt what everyone in the camp felt: she had been struck to the core by this, she had gone from being a queen to someone who was now at someone's mercy. Moreover, the one who could not hide his bitterness, and whose contempt for Isaac therefore radiated quite openly, was Ishmael. In short, it was obvious that Isaac's birth marked a major upheaval in the circumstances of Abraham's family. Hagar's future with Ishmael was suddenly uncertain.

Until God visited Sarah and she miraculously conceived, the situation in the camp was more or less stable. Sarah maintained her status as a woman, whom Abraham honored despite her barrenness, even though he had already had a child with Hagar. When Hagar tried to "raise her head" against Sarah. Abraham made it clear to her that she could not afford to do that, so she took a stand and kept a safe distance from him and Sarah. In doing so, she took pleasure in Abraham's continued preoccupation with her son, and it was clear to her that his and her future with the wealthy Abraham was secure. Fortune had not turned its back on her, she often thought.

But then God stepped in. The God with whom Abraham had spoken and to whom he had sacrificed... and everything was turned upside down. No, Hagar wasn't a diplomat by nature (as few in the tribal societies of the East were), and the hot-tempered Ishmael certainly wasn't. The tension that had been building in the camp since then was rubbing off on the others. Everyone was waiting to see what resolution the whole situation would take. Some sympathized with Hagar, others wished that this miracle-born child would one day become their new head rather than the quarrelsome Ishmael, as they had more or less already accepted. But at the sight of Abraham, who had grown so deeply attached to Ishmael, the fruit of his old age, a tension of expectation of the outcome hung over the camp.

It's strange, but sometimes things get complicated when God comes, they said quietly among themselves.

So the child grew and was weaned. And Abraham made a great feast on the same day that Isaac was weaned. And Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, scoffing. (Gen 21,8-9)

The birth of the child, the pure joy and laughter of Sarah worked on both parents like an elixir of youth. Their strength seemed renewed, their readiness to stand by the desired child until it was able to be on its own feet in life gave them a new determination, so that many of the glooms which old age inevitably brings with it were for a long time quelled. But as it happens in the world, even pure joy has its reverse side...

With the arrival of Isaac, something fundamental changed in the house of Abraham. Something we understand well these days - a change of succession. This change did not occur at the moment of Isaac's birth, but months earlier, when it became clear that Sarah was pregnant. While Abraham was silent at first, as if he could not believe the news, and then erupted into an outburst of incredible gratitude and joy. While the whole tribe marveled that the God of their lord had proved faithful to His promises after all, something that many had already secretly doubted, there was a person in the camp who was struck by the news with unrelenting bitterness.

Abraham now found himself unable to avoid keeping an eye on Sarah whenever she moved away from him, and sometimes secretly watching Hagar when Sarah had to pass her tent. The pregnancy itself was by no means a guarantee that the child would be born healthy and survive the first few months, he knew that very well. Ishmael didn't really understand the whole situation at first. After all, Abraham had tried very hard to preserve in him the consciousness of a beloved son, so he had gotten him the latest model crossbow and tried to spend even more time with him than before. But through it all, Ishmael unmistakably sensed what was going on in the mind of his mother. She knew from the first moment that once Isaac was born that her star would be extinguished forever. It was clear to Hagar that neither she nor Ishmael would ever again have the position they had enjoyed in the house. So fear settled permanently in the hearts of both mothers, for even Sarah could not now help not to feel the jealousy of her stepson towards Isaac. She demanded a clear statement how Abraham would handle the question of succession, and what would then become of Ishmael and his mother.

As is sometimes the case, family celebrations are not exactly a place of peace and tranquility, but a catalyst for underlying tensions and disagreements. And so the feast that Abraham had arranged to share with everyone the great joy that the child of promise was prospering in every way resulted in already open expressions of resentment on the part of Ishmael. With his violent temper, it was becoming apparent that little Isaac would be in permanent danger beside him.

And Abraham called the name of his son who was born to him—whom Sarah bore to him—Isaac. (Gen 21,3) Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are children of promise. (Ga 4,28)

The name Isaac comes from the Hebrew "yitzchak" and means "he will laugh, be merry". Last time we talked about Sarah's incentive to laugh with her because she had reached the joyful end of her waiting - at a time when she was already completely doubting, indeed, de facto writing off the possibility. Whenever someone now called out to little Isaac as he ran between the tents of the caravan, he was reminded of this joy of God, who does the impossible.

The true religion is that which came from heaven, which was not invented by man - it is the religion of the miracle, the new birth from above. Here God himself acts, and often in spite of our possibilities and abilities. The miracle is what sets us free, it is something we cannot do, something we can never accomplish, something we have no control over, nor can anyone ask us to do. Only God can do it, and we watch in amazement. That's why there's a place for "Isaac" - laughter. In contrast, man-made religions become a burden, a moral law resting heavily on human shoulders that must be faithfully carried out, so that we may one day hopefully reach acceptance. Man does not particularly like to laugh at this, so he secretly seeks his pleasures elsewhere if he manages to escape from these shackles into another world, at least for a time. Such religion does not fill anyone with real joy, it is rather a shadow on the soul. That is why so many religious people are outwardly faithful but inwardly gloomy and not very happy. One person observed that a well-known Reformer, who was often portrayed during his lifetime, does not smile in a single portrait. After all, he had such a serious task to perform!

Yet how differently does Scripture speak of those who have come to know Christ, "Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are children of promise." We also are sons of Abraham - and therefore bear the mark of Isaac, of laughter. It is certainly not the only thing that characterizes us. But as sons of the heavenly birth, followers of the true Isaac, Christ, we too bear the seal of joy. Unless, of course, we have fallen into the oppressive bondage of the law.

And Sarah said, “God has made me laugh, and all who hear will laugh with me.” (Gen 21,6)

Despite what I wrote last time, the path of following God is not just a strenuous overcoming of obstacles. There is also room for joy and laughter! If we read today that Sarah gave birth at the age of ninety, then we should laugh - at least she encourages us to do so...

It is interesting to note that Sarah is the first person we read in the Bible who laughs. Her laughter is even recorded twice - but each time it is a different laugh. The first, when she didn't believe God's messengers that she was still going to have a child. At the time it seemed absurd to her (there are many things absurd to the human mind on the path of discipleship). But she wouldn't have offended God with that alone. But she went beyond the absurdity; it was not only laughter, but partly mockery, and this touched God, who was expecting and seeking faith from them, and so He let her know, "but yes, you laughed."

But her laughter after she gave birth to her son is a laughter of joy, of freedom, of relief. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a laughter that is empowering, liberating, expressing gratitude. People usually laugh at someone's expense, either directly or when human qualities are parodied in an anecdote or skit. Sarah's laughter at a promise fulfilled is something else entirely. It does not lift itself above anyone; it is an echo of the joy of heaven, a rejoicing of the heart, healing the soul.

Not in vain was Abraham's son named Isaac - "the laughing one". When we experience the workings of God, we are left in awe, and often we can relax and laugh wholeheartedly at it.

For I think that God has displayed us, the apostles, last, as men condemned to death; for we have been made a spectacle [e]to the world, both to angels and to men. We are fools for Christ’s sake, but you are wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are distinguished, but we are dishonored! To the present hour we both hunger and thirst, and we are poorly clothed, and beaten, and homeless. (1Co 4,9-11)

How do we imagine a winner? Usually we like favourites who win in a start-finish style, outperforming others because they are gifted, but on top of that they have added a lot of work on themselves. We admire them because no one else can do what they have done. Or our admiration is won by the outsiders who started from the last place and yet outperform the others and in the end sensationally stand on the podium. But some hackneyed half-victories, half-losses, tedious plight, endless striving, and yet no great glory, do not inspire much enthusiasm and admiration.

But let's face it, life, the real life, is mostly like that.

And how then do we imagine God's victory? Did Paul, for example, walk in it? If all we knew about him was what he wrote to the Corinthians (see above) we would probably doubt it, but that is exactly how he saw his life. We are weak... We just mustn't read that passage without seeing the meaning behind it and what Paul is saying: that's how our life on this earth appears when seen on the outside, but it's different on the inside and very different when viewed from eternity above: and yes, then it really is the victory of God.

Abraham ascended his height and attained faith. One would expect something of a triumphal march in the limelight - he has a son, he preserves the lineage, and possession of the promised land is thereby sealed for his posterity. Great rejoicing, to be sure, but no spotlight - after all, even Isaac's birth took place outside the land because it was currently in drought. And who would have expected that from now on all problems would end and only jubilation would follow, then some new problems have only now emerged... As Paul writes elsewhere: "...we are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed..." (2Co 4,8-9)

And yet - Paul lived a victorious life, just as Abraham has now achieved victory. Only, we must not be mistaken about what such victories actually look like: they appear quite differently when viewed from the standpoint of this world and the world to come.

Just as with the man who died in weakness in the sight of all to overcome sin and the world in order to open the way to eternal glory for all of us.