You remember the story, right? Moses sends twelve spies, one from each tribe, to check out the land God promised them. When they return, ten of them are terrified. Giants! Fortified cities! We can’t possibly take it!
Only Joshua and Caleb, heroes in their own right, saw things differently. They believed God would deliver them.
But imagine the scene. Panic. Fear. A whole nation on edge.
As soon as the spies finished their doom-and-gloom report, the biblical text tells us Joshua stood up to speak. He knew the truth! He knew they could trust in God! But, according to Legends of the Jews, as retold by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, they wouldn't even let him get a word in edgewise.
“By what right dost thou, foolish man, presume to speak?" they shouted. Can you hear the scorn in their voices? "Thou hast neither sons nor daughters, so what dost thou care if we perish in our attempt to conquer the land? We, on the other hand, have to look out for our children and wives."
Ouch. Talk about a low blow. They were questioning his motivations, his very right to speak! The implication? He had nothing to lose, so of course he’d be reckless. They, with families to protect, were just being responsible.
So, Joshua, very much against his will, had to be silent. Think about that for a moment. Silenced. Imagine the frustration, the burning desire to speak the truth, stifled by fear and prejudice.
Now, Caleb, he was smart. He saw what happened to Joshua. He knew he had to find another way to get a hearing. He had to be strategic. He had to figure out how to be heard above the din of fear.
And that, my friends, is where our story takes an interesting turn. How did Caleb manage to get through to them? How did he overcome the fear and negativity that had gripped the Israelites? That’s a story for another time. But it leaves us with a question: how do we ensure that truth, even when unpopular, gets a chance to be heard? How do we create space for those who see things differently, especially when fear is running rampant? Food for thought, isn't it?