1. Joshua was one of the twelve spies who were sent into the land of Canaan to spy out the land and report as to the advisability of the children of Israel going over at once to take possession of it. Upon their return, ten of the spies gave an adverse report. Joshua was one of the two who alone had the courage to bring a true report of the Promised Land. The cowardly and false report of the other ten had filled the children of Israel with fear; they were on the point of revolt. “Let us make a captain, they said one to another, and let us return into Egypt.” Then Moses and Aaron fell on their faces before the assembly of the congregation. But Joshua with Caleb stood forth and testified to the children of Israel: “The land, which we passed through to search it, is an exceeding good land. If the Lord delight in us, then he will bring us into this land, and give it us.” Here is the real lesson of Joshua's character; it is the example not merely of a soldier's courage, but of intrepidity built on faith; he was not afraid of those who were avowedly God's enemies; he overthrew the Amalekites and Canaanites. He was not afraid of the defection and threats of God's people, not intimidated to withhold his message because other messengers of God feared to tell the truth. For forty years his message had no proof. None of the unbelieving and faint-hearted children of Israel were allowed to enjoy the blessings they had refused to believe in. But when their punishment was accomplished, Joshua and Caleb, his brother in faith and courage, came again to the Promised Land, and God gave them the assurance of His support and presence.
To be in a voluntary minority in great moral and spiritual issues takes heroism of no common sort. Such heroism is only born of a simple trust in God. Caleb and Joshua saw the giants just as the others did, and knew themselves too to be but as grasshoppers-but they saw God also! The ten saw God, if at all, only through the difficulties of the situation. These two men saw the difficulties through God. In the one case the difficulties minimized God. In the other God minimized the difficulties. All of which is an illustration of the way in which men of faith and men without faith look out upon life and determine their conduct! The men who do not allow their vision of God to be clouded by anything external and material are constantly saying with these two, “Let us go up at once and possess the land, for we are well able to overcome it.” These are faith's heroes. For without doubt Caleb and Joshua stood alone, scorned and derided by a faithless people, always ready to follow the faithless leaders who recommended to them the ever popular “line of least resistance,” and whose influence on the subsequent course of the nation's life is too well known to need pointing out. History always sets an unerring verdict upon such moral mistakes as were made at Kadesh-barnea, whether by men or nations. And the plainest man among us can always read it. Moral heroism which yields uncontested sovereignty to the claims of God has in itself the assurance of ultimate victory and prosperity. In that hour of such magnificent resolve, faith received a promise of reward to which Caleb and Joshua clung throughout all the weary years which elapsed before they were again on the borders of the Promised Land. Its accomplishment often seemed far off and remote. Yet during those years the testimony of one at least of them is that he “wholly followed the Lord.” The original purpose of his life was undaunted and undiverted. All the way through the wilderness-wanderings he was true to the light and cherished the promise. The undivided allegiance of his heart was never withdrawn from God. Faith and patience were in invincible alliance.1 [Note: J. S. Holden, Life's Flood-Tide, 135.]
2. This was the central point of Joshua's life in the wilderness on this side of Canaan. For with the sending of him into Palestine was linked his future work as conqueror of the land. Moses drew him apart from the rest and changed his name from Oshea, “the Saviour,” to Jehoshua, “God the Saviour.” The new name enshrined his destiny; it dedicated him to his work as captain of the Lord's host, as the winner of the land. It was a kind of baptism, a solemn consecration. Henceforth he knew what he was to do. A mighty, ruling idea was added to his life, and, as events fell out, it guided, inspired, and developed him for many years before he could put it into action.
What I admire in Columbus is not his having discovered a world, but his having gone to search for it on the faith of an opinion.2 [Note: Turgot.]
There is one feature that is always prominent in those who are strong personalities, and that is a unity of purpose, a concentration of mind, a fixed determination which pursues its object steadily and without wavering. Whether it be a statesman, a general, a merchant, or a minister of God, they are all alike in this, that their motto is that of St. Paul, “One thing I do.” And this unity of purpose is what religious people call consecration. It is the separation of one duty, one ambition, one resolve from all others, and giving it the prominent place in the life. It is the application to human life of that which is often done with buildings, vessels, and the like. The churches that are used for one object, the sacred vessels that are set apart for the Holy Communion, the Bible that is put into a place of its own, the military banner that is hung in some cathedral, all speak clearly of the meaning of consecration. And we feel that things so consecrated get a kind of virtue by reason of their consecration. They are different from other things of the kind, and have a certain halo of romance thrown about them. So, too, when consecration is applied to human life: the men and women who are known to be separate have a distinction of their own. It may be some dark purpose, a feeling of revenge which seeks to be satisfied; or some ambitious aim, a family estate to be won back, a name to be won; or it may be some philanthropic resolve, such as that which has animated a Wilberforce, a Shaftesbury, a Howard; or some religious undertaking, such as that which has inspired a Livingstone, a Carey, a Patteson; but, whatever it is you feel, it has a power of its own, and strongly determines personality. And the word “saint,” so widely misunderstood, testifies to the distinction consecration gives to it, meaning one who is consecrated to the will of God. He may be very imperfect, very human; but, so far as he recognizes as a principle of his life that he would rather do the will of God than any one else's, he is a saint, a consecrated Man_1:1 [Note: G. H. S. Walpole, Personality and Power, 72.]
