Here, then, was the fullest confirmation of all that the Lord had said concerning the land—the testimony of twelve men as to the fact that the land flowed with milk and honey—the testimony of their own senses as to the character of the fruit of the land. Furthermore, there was the telling fact that twelve men had actually been in the land, had spent forty days in traveling up and down therein, had drunk of its springs and eaten of its fruits. And what, according to the judgment of faith, would have been the plain inference to be drawn from such a fact? Why, simply, that the same hand which had conducted twelve men into the land could conduct the whole congregation.
But, alas! the people were not governed by faith, but by dark and depressing unbelief; and even the spies themselves—the very men who had been sent for the purpose of assuring and confirming the congregation—even they, with two brilliant exceptions, were under the power of the same God-dishonoring spirit. In short, the whole scheme proved a failure. The issue only made manifest the true condition of the hearts of the people. Unbelief was dominant. The testimony was plain enough—“We came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and surely it floweth with milk and honey; and this is the fruit of it.” There was nothing whatever lacking on God’s side of the question. The land was all that He had said, the spies themselves being witnesses; but let us hearken to what follows. “Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell in the land, and the cities are walled, and very great: and moreover we saw the children of Anak there.” (Ver. 28.)
There is always sure to be a “nevertheless” where man is concerned, and when unbelief is at work. The unbelieving spies _saw_ the difficulties—great cities, high walls, tall giants. All these things they saw, but they did not see Jehovah at all. They looked at the things that were seen, rather than at the things that were unseen. Their eye was not fixed upon Him who is invisible. Doubtless, the cities were great, but God was greater; the walls were high, but God was higher; the giants were strong, but God was stronger.
Thus it is that faith ever reasons. Faith reasons from God to the difficulties,—it begins with Him: unbelief, on the contrary, reasons from the difficulties to God,—it begins with them. This makes all the difference. It is not that we are to be insensible to the difficulties; neither are we to be reckless. Neither insensibility nor yet recklessness is faith. There are some easy-going people who seem to get along through life on the principle of taking things by the smooth handle. This is not faith. Faith looks the difficulties straight in the face; it is fully alive to the roughness of the handle. It is not ignorant, not indifferent, not reckless; but——what? IT BRINGS IN THE LIVING GOD. It looks to Him; it leans on Him; it draws from Him. Here lies the grand secret of its power. It cherishes the calm and deep conviction that there never was a wall too high for the almighty God—never a city too great—never a giant too strong. In short, faith is the only thing that gives God His proper place; and, as a consequence, is the only thing that lifts the soul completely above the influences of surrounding circumstances, be they what they may. Of this precious faith, Caleb was the exponent, when he said, “Let us go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it.” These are the pure accents of that lively faith that glorifies God and makes nothing of circumstances.
But, alas! the great majority of the spies were no more governed by this lively faith than the men who sent them; and hence, the one believer was talked down by the ten infidels. “The men that went up with him said, ‘We be not able to go up against the people.’” The language of infidelity was flatly opposed to the language of faith. The latter, looking at God, said, “We are _well_ able;” the former, looking at the difficulties, said, “We are _not_ able.” Thus it was and thus it is. The eyes of faith are ever covered by the living God, and therefore difficulties are not seen: the eyes of unbelief are covered with the circumstances, and therefore God is not seen. Faith brings in God, and therefore all is bright and easy: unbelief always shuts God out, and therefore all is dark and difficult.