Three visitors, and a laugh behind the tent door
1 Yahweh appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day. 2 He lifted up his eyes and looked, and saw that three men stood near him. When he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself to the earth, 3 and said, “My lord, if now I have found favor in your sight, please don’t go away from your servant. 4 Now let a little water be fetched, wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. 5 I will get a piece of bread so you can refresh your heart. After that you may go your way, now that you have come to your servant.” They said, “Very well, do as you have said.” 6 Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah, and said, “Quickly prepare three seahs of fine meal, knead it, and make cakes.” 7 Abraham ran to the herd, and fetched a tender and good calf, and gave it to the servant. He hurried to dress it. 8 He took butter, milk, and the calf which he had dressed, and set it before them. He stood by them under the tree, and they ate. 9 They asked him, “Where is Sarah, your wife?” He said, “There, in the tent.” 10 He said, “I will certainly return to you at about this time next year; and behold, Sarah your wife will have a son.” Sarah heard in the tent door, which was behind him. 11 Now Abraham and Sarah were old, well advanced in age. Sarah had passed the age of childbearing. 12 Sarah laughed within herself, saying, “After I have grown old will I have pleasure, my lord being old also?” 13 Yahweh said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh, saying, ‘Will I really bear a child when I am old?’ 14 Is anything too hard for Yahweh? At the set time I will return to you, when the season comes around, and Sarah will have a son.” 15 Then Sarah denied it, saying, “I didn’t laugh,” for she was afraid. He said, “No, but you did laugh.”
Ordinary hospitality to three travelers turns out to be something else, and the promise is repeated with a date attached and a question nobody can answer.
Yahweh appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day. The reader is told at the outset who is coming; Abraham is not. What he sees is three men, standing near, in the hottest part of the afternoon.
His response is a burst of verbs. He ran to meet them, bowed to the earth, and asked them not to pass by. He offers a little water and a piece of bread — and then produces a feast. He hurried into the tent, Sarah is to work quickly, he ran to the herd for a tender calf, and a servant hurried to dress it. Three seahs of fine meal is a large quantity of bread. A man of ninety-nine runs twice in four verses.
The whole scene is the ordinary courtesy of that world performed at full stretch, and the New Testament looks back at it with a warning attached: don't forget to show hospitality to strangers, for in doing so, some have entertained angels without knowing it Hebrews 13:2. The point is precisely that Abraham did not know.
He stands by while they eat, which is the host's posture, and then the visitors ask a question that shows what they are: Where is Sarah, your wife? They know her name, and they know the new one — she had been Sarah for a matter of days.
Then the promise, with a term: I will certainly return to you at about this time next year; and behold, Sarah your wife will have a son. And the narrator places Sarah exactly: Sarah heard in the tent door, which was behind him. She is out of sight and within earshot, which is the whole staging of what follows.
The narrator then states the facts of the case with unusual bluntness — they were old, well advanced in age, and Sarah had passed the age of childbearing — so that nobody can read her reaction as unreasonable.
Sarah laughed within herself. Her husband had laughed at the same promise a chapter earlier, on his face, and been given a son named laughter for it. Hers is inward and unspoken, and it is not merely at the arithmetic; her words are about pleasure and about an old husband, which is the laugh of a woman who long ago stopped hoping and does not intend to start.
And the visitor hears it. Why did Sarah laugh? — addressed to Abraham, about something she said inside herself, behind him, in a tent.
Then the question the whole book turns on: Is anything too hard for Yahweh? It is not answered, because it does not need an answer, and it is the standing reply to every impossibility in the rest of Scripture.
Sarah's denial is the last human note in the scene and the most recognizable: I didn't laugh, for she was afraid. She is caught, she lies badly, and the reply is three words with no elaboration and no punishment: No, but you did laugh.
settled What this mark means