Genesis 18:1-15; 21:1-7
Matthew 9:35 – 10:23
“We Will Laugh Together!”
I just love the way that Sarah’s laughter was transformed from the private scoffing laughter of disbelief to the shared, buoyant laughter of astonishment and joy. This week’s story from Genesis is a turning point in the story of Abraham and Sarah. God has promised to make them ancestors “of a multitude of nations” even though Sarah is childless and ninety years old. Abraham initially finds this unimaginable, even laughable – and in today’s story, so does Sarah.
After showing three strangers some extravagant hospitality, Abraham and Sarah stand by – and from inside the tent, Sarah overhears the visitors (that may in fact be God who came to visit them) tell Abraham that she “shall have a son.” Sarah laughs to herself in disbelief – she’s ninety, after all! But not only does she eventually have a son (She names him “Isaac” which means “to laugh.”) But she ultimately declares these words: “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.”
I didn’t hear anyone telling jokes yesterday at the Queen City Pride Parade or at the OUT in the Park event that followed, but there were a lot of bright eyes, big beaming smiles, and laughter shared in our community.
Of course, that hasn’t always been the case. Our society has changed a lot in my lifetime alone, including the raised status of women, greater acceptance of cultural and ethnic diversity, and much greater respect for people who are 2-spirit, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, or intersex.
Last month the First Church Book Club was reading a book called “Atmosphere” by Taylor Jenkins Reid. It’s a book about American astronauts in the early 1980s, and it was great to read it right around the time that NASA’s Artemis II was doing a lunar fly-by. For those curious about rockets, and zero-gravity, space walks, and all the technology that makes these unimaginable things possible, it was super interesting.
But “Atmosphere” wasn’t just about astronauts, it was also a love story between two women who were among the very first women to have the chance to go into space. The thing that struck me about their story was how secretive they had to be about their relationship, what a risk they would be taking if they told anyone about who they loved, and the very real and likely outcome that they would lose their jobs, their reputations, and many of their friends if someone were to find out.
If we were to tell these characters (or real lesbians like them in the early 1980s) that in 2026 they would be able to walk hand-in-hand in a parade down the city streets and have crowds of people cheering and encouraging them, I expect they would have laughed like Sarah did.
The first Pride Parade held in Regina was on June 23rd, 1990. It took place without a police permit because the police chief refused to authorize it. Participants marched on the sidewalk because they were denied permission to use the street. And many marchers wore masks or covered their faces due to fear of being outed, losing jobs, or facing violence.
Attendance was small – roughly 50-90 people – and walking in the parade was an act of courage at a time when 2SLGBTQI+ rights were not protected in Saskatchewan. Yesterday, there were likely about five or six thousand people participating, and the love, joy, and laughter was all around.
The story of Sarah and Abraham is a beautiful story of hope and promise. Although we aren’t going to start expecting the 90 year-olds we know to start having children at this point in their lives, we are invited to think about the most unlikely, far-fetched, inconceivable, impossible (and wonderful) things that we can imagine actually happening because of God’s goodness and power.
I want to imagine a time when Pride Parades are no longer necessary, because every person of every sexual orientation and gender identity is respected, included, and valued in our society.
I want to imagine a time when school lunch programs and food banks are no longer necessary, because every child and every person has plenty to eat, and we all live without fear or worry about where our next meal will come from.
I want to imagine a time when Indigenous people in Canada are no longer experiencing the intergenerational impacts of colonization and the residential school system. First Nations communities, and all communities are thriving, and our diversity of cultures and spiritual practices are valued and celebrated without exception.
I want to imagine a time when peace with justice flourishes in every place where there is violence, oppression, and war in our time. The countries of the world are no longer seeking the most power or attempting to annex the most land.
I want to imagine a time when the creation God loves is secure. Human communities are living gently on the earth once again, and the natural rhythms of animals, plants, water, and sky are restored.
I want to imagine a time when the broken and divided Body of Christ is healed and made one. The Christian churches of the world are united in a common faith and a common mission of sharing Jesus’ love with all people.
I wonder what future Jesus was imagining when he sent out his twelve disciples, giving them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. He certainly wasn’t wearing rose-coloured glasses when he told them about what they would encounter on their mission in his name.
In some places, he knew that they would be welcomed, but he also knew that they would be rejected and ignored by others. Jesus warned them that they would be like sheep in the midst of wolves. He told them that they could be arrested, tortured, and questioned. He told them that they might be betrayed, hated, or persecuted.
But Jesus sent them out – not because he thought that transforming the world was going to be easy, but because it was necessary and because it was possible. Some of Jesus’ disciples might have laughed in disbelief at the idea of bringing the good news to all the nations of the world, as he would eventually commission them to do. But Jesus didn’t laugh because he had hope that it could be done.
Jesus had been doing it himself – “going about all the cities and villages, teaching in the synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.’”
There were six of us from First Church yesterday walking in the parade with our shirts and signs that said, “God’s love includes everyone.” And with our Anglican, Lutheran, and United Church friends, we were probably a group of 50 or more.
Mostly, I think we were there to share in the laughter and the surprising joy of a community of people who once were rejected and shamed, and now, more often than in the past, are able to be who they are without fear of hatred or persecution.
I was privileged, for a couple of hours in the afternoon, to stand at the “Welcoming Faiths” booth in the park and to offer glitter blessings to anyone that wanted to receive one. Even if I blessed every single one of you here this morning twice over, I wouldn’t come close to the number of people I was able to bless and encourage yesterday with an assurance of God’s unconditional love.
Meanwhile, there was only one Christian who came up to the booth to try to argue with us about our inclusive and affirming interpretation of the Bible and God’s love for us all. I did offer him a glitter blessing too, but he didn’t want to receive it. And when he left, I went back to the wonderful task of welcoming and blessing and sharing in the laughter and joy.
I want to end with a few words from the SALT Lectionary Commentary, written in reflection on today’s readings. “In the face of today’s many challenges, in our communities and in our hearts, forward movement can seem elusive, illusory, laughable. But the good news of the gospel is that anywhere love or justice seem laughable, the Spirit is already at work, calling the church to join her.”
May we live in that hope and promise, ready and willing to be sent out in Jesus’ name to love and to transform the world.