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.

(Abraham)...who, contrary to hope, in hope believed, so that he became the father of many nations, according to what was spoken, “So shall your descendants be.” And not being weak in faith, he did not consider his own body, already dead (since he was about a hundred years old), and the deadness of Sarah’s womb. He did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strengthened in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully convinced that what He had promised He was also able to perform. (Rom 4,18-21)

In describing the long years that preceded Isaac's birth, it does not seem to us that Abraham had the kind of faith evidenced in the Epistle to the Romans. We see in him, indeed, glorious victories, but also many hesitations and defeats. Therefore, the attitude described in the Epistle to the Romans was obviously only a matter of the final conclusion of the 25 years of discipleship. He had grown to this faith, he had worked his way to it through the various situations and trials through which he had passed. It is impossible to pigeonhole Abraham as a biblical figure: since he is called the father of faith, he always believed, did not doubt, and that´s it. This is a complete misunderstanding. Like everything that has value in life, his faith was dearly paid for; he had to drudge his way to it, to put it succinctly.

But in the end, this man permanently undergoing a change of heart and character rose to his height. Then, when it was much harder than ever before! Before, he could have had the child after all, at least in theory, the problem was Sarah's infertility. But when his body (and Sarah's body) went limp and the "biological clock" caught up with them both, all hope was over.

What a strange power the faith has to turn the impossible into the possible. And how marvelous that Abraham actually grew into it when he now faced far greater obstacles than before. At the time when things were easier, he wavered in his faith (he became satisfied with Ishmael). Now that he had grown old and believing was so much harder, even impossible - he believed God and strengthened by faith "gave honor." At that moment, he not only believed, but also spoke. Never before had he seemed so deranged to his servants as when they saw him, the centenarian, walking through the camp, praising God and expecting the birth of a son he clearly could no longer have.

To conceive him, he and Sarah had to experience the revival of what was already dead in their bodies. God´s personal promise to Abraham came to fruition as a resurrection, life from the death. The life of Isaac was a miracle, a revelation of things of divine character on earth, the beginning of the nation of God that was to become the light of the world. And therefore he had to be conceived by faith, not in the normal way - he had to come "from above," to be called into being by the movement of God and to be surrendered and consecrated to Him.

For Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken to him. (Gen 21,2)

We have already said that Abraham did not come to know God through a theological approach, that is, through book study, knowledge and understanding, but through experiences that came as he walked the path of his life. He didn't study articles of faith, but practically grew in it; he didn't read books on intercession, and yet became one of the greatest intercessors; he didn't download sermons how to get blessings in his job, but practically experienced how God provided for his job as he sought the way for his farm and his community. His knowledge of God was thus brought to him by the specific situations he was exposed to. Or, better said, it was always first a lack, a crisis in which he had to seek God and take the right attitude. Having taken it, he received the blessing in that area of his life. Nothing has changed in this way of God's dealings with man over the next thousand years. We may learn about God through theological understanding, but our lives as such may be virtually unaffected. However, experiencing the depths, the crisis in which we must find God's way forward, truly transforms us and places us under the blessed hand of God. It is not a cheap and always pleasant way, but it is an unchangeable spiritual pattern: without such an inner transformation one cannot ascend permanently higher.

As we have already noted, Abraham was in some danger in Gerar, and he preferred to help himself with a half-truth. He may not have passed with flying colours, but at the same time it cannot be said that he deliberately intended to commit evil, and therefore God did not judge him. This situation eventually brought him a new experience: not only did God intervene on his behalf, but He ultimately affirmed Abraham by having him pray for the women of Abimelech's house who were afflicted with barrenness.

All of this only reinforces the principle described above: had it not been for this experience, Abraham would not have experienced how God heals even physical diseases, namely the one that troubled him most: infertility! He legitimately thought: if God healed infertility in idolaters... why couldn't the same thing happen to his own wife?

Often over the past 25 years, he had waged a struggle of faith in which he had both waxed and waned. For so many years he had hoped for the birth of his own son that it sometimes seemed like a distant idea, a fading hope. But never before had he felt so close and tangible an experience of his God miraculously healing infertility, and this literally through him.

Now there was no time for doubt; at 99 years old, he was experiencing the distant, perishable hope being transformed into a certainty: his God could do it, of course - for him, right here, right now.

And the Lord visited Sarah as He had said, and the Lord did for Sarah as He had spoken.(Gen 21,1)

What a simple description of the most significant events in the history of the world: the Lord visited... the Lord fulfilled. As if it were the simplest thing that could happen to man! But we've been telling the story of Abram's transformation for too long to make it clear that it's not so simple from man's perspective - that is, until he finds himself in the position of blessing. Abraham and Sarah had been working towards this for 25 years, and it was only at some point in their journey that it became so easy and natural. But then it actually seemed more natural to them than the opposite! Unless one is in a position towards God that God wants to bless, it is far more natural that things don't work out and accepting them from God seems difficult. Once he is in such a position, he finds it strange, on the contrary, why shouldn't these God´s things work?

Isaac's birth was a pivotal point in the history of the salvation of the world for God. Without Isaac, there would have been no Israel and no Christ. God worked on Abraham for years, and we know that at times it was pretty bitter medicine for him. But when Scripture gloriously announces the fulfillment of the promise, it does not first say that God fulfilled His promise to Abraham, but to... Sarah! Yet it seems to us that the struggles of faith have been waged primarily by Abraham all along, and his wife even often appears in the position of doubter. But this description of the birth of a son, the diction of the text, proves that God was also working on Sarah and her faith all along, even if it was done more covertly, "behind the curtain."

Sarah was in a simpler position than Abraham in the sense that he could not afford to doubt publicly. He was a bit like today's clergy in this regard: his responsibility to the whole community led him to keep certain struggles to himself and not show doubt in order to keep their faith in God from wavering. Sarah had more freedom in this, and could vent her skepticism more easily - so she laughs at God's messengers instead of believing, invents another path when God's way seems to lead nowhere, etc.

But we see that in the end, even Sarah rose to the heights in her heart and believed against all reality that God is faithful and able to fulfill what He promised, so God "fulfilled...her".

God doesn't want to leave anyone behind, He wants to lead everyone to higher paths without exception! And how precious it is when spouses can walk on them together.

So Abraham prayed to God; and God healed Abimelech, his wife, and his female servants. Then they bore children; for the Lord had closed up all the wombs of the house of Abimelech because of Sarah, Abraham’s wife. (Gen 20,17-18)

In particular, we find six kinds of healing in Scripture:
1. healing by power accompanying the preaching of the word (as a sign from above)
2. healing by the faith of the sick person (e.g. the case of the woman with the hemorrhage)
3. healing through the gift of healing (1 Cor. 12)
4. healing as a prophetic sign (e.g., the healing of Naaman)
5. healing through intercession (see petitions for fellow workers in the epistles)
6. healing through confession of sin and forgiveness (and note, this is not speaking of new believers, but of confession of sin and its forgiveness among long-time believers (see Jam 5:15)

It is interesting that today in the Church (i.e., by people who have been believers for a long time) the issue of supernatural healing is viewed primarily at two extremes. The first more or less denies it. According to him, the power of God does not operate today as in the beginning, when it was necessary for it to confirm the preached word. But after the period of the first apostles, it is said, it was no longer needed to that extent, and so supernatural manifestations ceased. After all, today we have doctors and God uses them to heal.

The problem is that none of these inferences are explicitly in the Bible. Even Jesus, in his last discourse in J14, apparently did not count on the manifestations of his Spirit gradually subsiding, quite the opposite. (And doctors were around then too, by the way, though obviously not on the level of today's medicine).

The other extreme is the claim that if we believe properly, we are all healthy, right HERE and NOW. Of course, anyone who has tried practicing this for a few years (and isn't in their twenties anymore, so naturally there already are some issues in their body) could develop their own opinion about the reality of this approach.   

Somewhere between these two extremes is the "intercessory" approach. Its proponents pray for healing, often in secret, but they also have no problem praying openly with the person. They believe that it is in God's power to heal, but they do not claim it by force, rather they wait to see if there will be intervention from above, that is, if and what will happen. (Admittedly, the results today are not somehow dazzling, but it still happens occasionally - I wish there were more of it).

The first two extremes don't actually count on God acting specifically and personally with a given case. According to them, it works either never or always. It is not God directly at work, but his principle - which works according to the theology being held: in no or every case.

It is therefore remarkable to realize that Abraham's prayer for the women of Abimelech's house, this first prayer for healing in Scripture (!), was not a prayer of faith but a prayer of restoration. It falls into the last category of the six named. It teaches us that perhaps more often than we admit, physical healing requires breaking down the barriers that stand between God and the person. To remove the block, the disfavour, and often to confess and forgive the guilt. And then to allow the flow of God's life to renew that person again, from spirit to body.

God dealt with Abimelech in a very specific and personal way, not as an impersonal principle, but with a clearly manifested will and through a specific revelation given to his servant Abraham.