Even if you could name the twelve different tribes of Israel (I can’t off the top of my head), I’d be willing to bet top dollar that you couldn’t name the twelve different spies that went in to Canaan.
I might be able to name two, but to be fair, those are the two that everyone remembers: Joshua and Caleb. And the reason those two are memorable is because they actually did what was right.
And also because they’re the only two of the twelve that live long enough to enter into Canaan. Everyone else over twenty by this point will die before that day, including those ten men.
For our purposes, their names aren’t really that important. What’s more important is how they were chosen and their impact on the people around them.
The only qualification for their selection was that they were considered leaders among their individual tribes. Their selection came from the people; these were men that others viewed as leaders. That’s saying quite a bit when the total population of Israel was estimated to be over a million people.
Unfortunately, it’s because of their influence that the rest of the nation is carried away in disbelief. When they return with an unfavorable report, the rest of Israel refuses to challenge their opinion. After all, these were their chosen leaders! If they don’t think they can take the land, why would anyone else disagree?
There are a few lessons here in regards to how leadership (good and bad) can shape public perception. You could argue that physical qualities of leadership don’t always transfer over to spiritual qualities of leadership, which is a great point.
You could also say that we as regular humans need to remember our leaders as humans with their own flaws, which is also true. These men probably had very personal reasons—shaped by their own life experiences—as to why they didn’t think the land could be taken.
The rest of Israel should have taken their opinion as just that, though—as an opinion.
But the point that I want to make from this story is slightly different. Notice that when the spies come back and gave their negative report, they greatly underestimated the abilities of the people under their command.
I’ve seen and heard this from leaders in all different walks of life. We can’t do this or that because “the people won’t commit.” We can’t embark on a project because the “people aren’t ready.” Whatever the reason for the refusal, the blame always lies on the people. Always.
This is evident by what the leaders actually say when Caleb calls out their cowardice. In Numbers 13:33, they say that when they saw the Nephilim, “[they] became like grasshoppers in [their] own sight.” The land devours its inhabitants, and they thought they would be next. After all, the Canaanites were “too strong” for them.
In short, the opportunity was there, but the ten men refused to capitalize.
Good leaders always expect more from their people. When the moment is there, they prod them forward, not give them a reason to fall back.
Not to mention the fact that this nation had wandered through the wilderness for several months and had first-hand experience of God’s power by watching Him decimate the greatest world power at the time (Egypt). Were these men really so faithless as to expect God couldn’t do it again?
No doubt, these men would think about this moment for the next forty years of their lives (if they lived that long). And they may have grown bitter in thinking that they were right all along, and that the people weren’t ready, or that it would’ve ended in catastrophe.
But that’s where faith comes in—not just with God, but also in people. Leadership encourages progress, despite the risks, even if they have to drag others along for the ride.
And who knows? Maybe those same people you underestimated all along will end up surprising you.
