And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart. [Luke 18:1 (ESV)]
I began my prayer with, “Lord, you’ve got to…” but got no further. “God doesn’t ‘got to’ do anything!” said a still small voice and the Spirit’s point was well taken. By beginning with an impertinent demand like a selfish petulant child in a toy store, I showed chutzpah of the worst kind and began again.
From the Yiddish word khutspe, meaning impudence or gall, Leo Rosten’s classic definition of chutzpah is, “that quality enshrined in a man who, having killed his mother and father, throws himself on the mercy of the court because he is an orphan.” The brazen way I started my prayer displayed chutzpah’s negative characteristics of rudeness, impertinence, presumption, insolence, and arrogance.
A little chutzpah, however, isn’t necessarily bad. On the positive side, chutzpah includes the qualities of fearlessness, pluck, mettle, and boldness; it questions, challenges assumptions, speaks up, and stands its ground. Chutzpah, at its worst, is rude, disgraceful, and harmful. At its best, however, this combination of audacity and gumption can bring glory to God’s name. This difference is in motivation—rather than being done for personal gain, “holy chutzpah” is done to reveal God’s kingdom on earth.
Moses showed holy chutzpah on Mt. Sinai when he debated God about the destruction of the Israelites and Abraham showed chutzpah when he negotiated with God over the complete destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. When Jacob wrestled with God, the man persisted despite a dislocated hip until he’d received a blessing! That’s chutzpah!
In Cana, Mary showed chutzpah by expecting Jesus to solve a wine shortage when the problem wasn’t His to solve and His power was unknown to others. The Syrophoenician woman certainly showed chutzpah by challenging Jesus after he denied her request to heal her demon-possessed daughter. Think of the chutzpah of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar who, despite a scolding by the crowd, persisted in calling out to Jesus; the woman with the bleeding disorder with the audacity to come out in public and the gumption to touch the fringe on Jesus’ robe; and the parents who ignored the disciples’ rebukes by bringing their little children to be blessed by the Lord!
A pastor friend frequently says, “Ours in an audacious God; we should honor Him with audacious prayers.” Do we? When King Hezekiah fell ill, Isaiah told him he would not recover. Unwilling to accept his fate, the king had the chutzpah to ask God for more years. God heard, healed him, and Hezekiah lived another fifteen years! What if he hadn’t asked for those years? Consider how different his story and those of people like Moses, Abraham, and the Syrophoenician woman would have been if they hadn’t had the chutzpah to make their audacious pleas and petitions! Ours is a big God for whom nothing is impossible! Let us come before the Lord, not with arrogance and impudence, but with boldness, humility, respect, and faith.
Praying recklessly brave prayers humbles me, reminding me of both my own great need and his great strength. In asking him for big, impossible things, I expect my dependence on him to grow, my willingness to take risks for his kingdom to increase, and my intimacy with him to deepen. [Lisa Schrad]
Jesus told two parables about persistence. In the first, a man went to his neighbor’s home at midnight. Waking him, he asked for three loaves of bread because a traveler just arrived and he had no food for his hungry guest. Initially, the neighbor refused to open the door but, after tiring of the man’s persistent knocking, he finally gave him the bread. In the second parable, a widow kept badgering a corrupt judge with her appeals for justice against a man who has harmed her. Finally, worn down by her persistent pleas, the exasperated judge granted her request.
Having quoted from Isaiah when proclaiming the Messiah’s arrival, we know John knew Isaiah’s prophecies. The Messiah would “bind up the brokenhearted [and] proclaim liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners,” [61:1] but, after spending more than a year confined to a dark cell, John had neither liberty nor freedom. It’s no wonder he doubted.
After pointing out Jesus as the “Lamb of God,” some of John the Baptizer’s disciples left John to follow Jesus. Later, John’s remaining disciples reported that Jesus was baptizing (it actually was His disciples) and wanted to know whose purification ritual of baptism was valid. With many turning from John to Jesus, the Baptizer’s disciples were confused, concerned, and probably a little envious. Apparently, they forgot that John’s original mission was that of forerunner—the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah and point the way to the Lamb of God. Knowing that he wasn’t the bridegroom but only His friend, the Baptizer humbly affirmed his position by telling his disciples that Jesus must become more prominent while he became less and less important. J.C. Ryle likened the Baptizer’s role to that of a star growing paler and paler as the sun rises until the star completely disappears in the light of the sun. John clearly understood that he was to fade in the light of the Son.
While browsing a bookstore (yes, they still exist), I came across a book offering more than 100 ways to say “Thank you.” It suggested ways to express one’s appreciation for milestone celebrations, business opportunities, assistance, social events, and assorted gifts. It even offered “damage control” for tardy thank you notes. There also were chapters devoted to topics like stationery, envelopes, and internet etiquette. One chapter offered a “thank you thesaurus” complete with several “glowing superlatives and energetic adjectives.”
One of the most disturbing stories in the Bible is found in Judges 11. Before leading the army into battle with the Ammonites, Jephthah made a rash vow to the Lord—if given victory, he’d make a burnt sacrifice of the first thing to come out of his house to meet him upon his return. God granted Israel victory but, when Jephthah returned home, it was his daughter who came out to greet him. When the anguished Jephthah told her of his vow, the girl willingly accepted her fate. She only asked for one thing—to go into the hills with her friends to mourn that she’d never marry or know the joy of motherhood. When she returned, “her father kept the vow he had made and she died a virgin.”
Devotions of the Heart 