Unity and solidarity. Community cohesion. Commitment to purpose. All good things, right?
One would think so, but today’s text relates a familiar story in which uniformity takes a back seat to diversity. The imaginative account of humanity’s pre-history in Genesis 1-11 insists that God’s desire for humankind includes an appreciation for what makes us different as well as what we have in common.
Within its larger context, the Tower of Babel story follows the account of how Noah’s descendants spread out and populated the earth, building cities and speaking different languages (Genesis 10).
The placement of the story leads some readers to imagine that Noah’s family first migrated southeast from the mountains of Ararat to the plain of Shinar, staying together and growing large enough to build a city and a tower before God dispersed them to the lands they are said to have settled in the previous chapter.
This is unlikely: the story appears to preserve an altogether different tradition of how the earth was populated, but it is positioned for a purpose: to close out Israel’s account of pre-history with yet another story of human failure and divine intervention. [DD]
In its earliest form, the story functioned as an etiology designed to explain why the known world had different cultures that spoke different languages. In addition, the multi-layered story also comments on the tall stage towers in Babylon, and it offers a humorous Hebrew explanation of the name “Babel.” [DD]
A human aspiration (vv. 1-4)
Before diving into the story, we take note of its careful structure. The first four verses speak of human actions. Verse 5, at the center, marks how God became aware of what the people were up to. The final four verses then describe God’s actions in response to the humans. [DD]
The story presupposes a time when everyone spoke one language. “Now the whole earth had one language and the same words” (literally, “they were all of one lip and one words”). The people are described as the population of “the whole earth.” Whether the text intends to imply that they migrated “from the east” or “eastward” (the Hebrew is unclear), they came to a fertile plain “in the land of Shinar and settled there.” (vv. 1-2).
“Shinar” was a name given to the area east of the Euphrates when the Babylonians occupied it during the second millennium, at a much later time than the setting of the story. The cuneiform spelling was “Sha-an-ha-ra.”
But how does one find permanent shelter on a plain? Both caves and rocks were rare, but the people learned that blocks made from river mud could be dried in the sun and used along with wooden beams to build houses. In time – probably by observing what happened after a house fire – they learned that mudbricks baked in a fire became hard and impervious to rain.
Verse 3 reflects the emergence of building technology. By firing mudbrick and using mortar to strengthen and level the courses, the early inhabitants learned to build larger and larger buildings despite the lack of stone.
The story points to a time when the people decided to build both a city and a tower so tall that its top would reach the heavens. The effort, they believed, would strengthen their unity and civic pride: they wanted to “make a name for ourselves, otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the earth” (v. 4).
Modern readers may chuckle at the idea of wanting to build a reputation when there was no one else to admire it, but that did not bother the ancient storyteller. [DD]
While the people of Babel sought to avoid being scattered abroad, careful readers recall that God had commanded the earliest people to “fill the earth” (Gen. 1:28), a command repeated in Gen. 9:1 and reflected in 9:7. [DD]
Both the Sumerians and Babylonians built tall stage towers, or ziggurats, designed to honor the various gods that they worshiped. One of the largest towers was built in the city of Babylon. It was called the É.temen.an.ki, meaning “house of the foundation of heaven and earth.”
Ancient records claim the seven-story tower was about 300 feet square at the bottom and of equal height, with its upper stories covered in bricks glazed blue to blend in with the sky. The Hebrew story reflects a familiarity with such structures. [DD]
A divine intervention (vv. 5-9)
While the people wanted to build a tower reaching into the heavens, the author notes that Yahweh (the name for God in this story) had to “come down” in order to investigate what they were doing (v. 5).
The narrator may have thought the hubris involved in thinking that humans could build a tower to the heavens was laughable, but Yahweh took it seriously. The more technologically advanced and capable people become, the less they feel a need for God and the more they become gods unto themselves. “This is only the beginning of what they will do,” the narrator credits Yahweh with saying, “nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them” (v. 6).
Yahweh’s concern was not for divine safety, but for humanity’s future. When people feel no need for God, they no longer rely on divine revelation as a guide for behavior: they do what they like with what power they have.
When people become gods to themselves, they may look down on persons less accomplished or wealthy and assume the right to oppress or enslave or even kill them without concern. The wealthy prosper, while the poor suffer.
So, the storyteller says, God decided to short-circuit the ambitious project by mixing up the people’s words so they couldn’t understand each other.
“Come, let us go down” (v. 7) reflects the Old Testament belief that God presided over a heavenly council of assistants, typically thought of as angels (see also Job 1:6). [DD]
God understood that people naturally prefer to live among people they can talk to. The term translated as “understand” in v. 7 is the word that normally means “listen.” People who don’t understand each other are unlikely to listen to each other.
It’s equally true that people who speak the same language are unlikely to understand each other if they do not listen to each other.
God’s response, perceived by the writer as divine judgment on human arrogance, caused the people to abandon their efforts to build the city (v. 8, note that the tower is not mentioned after v. 5). While that seems negative, the upshot was positive: the people sorted themselves out into language groups and began spreading out to fill the earth, thus fulfilling God’s intended purpose for humankind.
The concluding etiology of the city’s name is an apparent dig at the Babylonians (v. 9). In their language, known as Akkadian, they called their great city “Bab-el,” which means “gate of god.” The Hebrew word bālal, meaning “to mix” or “to confuse,” is used in the story and has a similar sound. The narrator stretches the similarity to imply that the two names are etymologically related. [DD]
A learning opportunity
Modern readers may find several lessons in the Tower of Babel story. The most obvious speaks to the danger of living without reference to God, thinking that we have no other responsibility beyond looking after ourselves.
Choosing to live apart from God and build our own towers of wealth or influence won’t get us to heaven: it will leave us high and dry and wondering why nobody understands us.
The story, at least by implication, also highlights the importance of obeying God. The narrator may presume that the people knew of God’s commands to spread throughout the earth and intentionally disobeyed, but the characters in the story seem to give no thought to God at all – or to their future. A city can only grow so large without becoming economically and environmentally unsustainable.
A lesson of special importance for today concerns the danger of becoming insular and isolationist. It is tempting for a nation, a city, or a church to focus on itself alone, seeking to grow in power and make a great name for itself without thought for others.
The theme of looking beyond ourselves and caring for our neighbors runs throughout both the Old and New Testaments – and sometimes the people we need to care for most are those who speak different languages.
Our calling is not to build our own insular kingdoms so we can be proud of our greatness, but to share the caring presence of Christ throughout the world.
We recall that today’s reading is on Pentecost Sunday, paired with the story of how the Holy Spirit descended on the early Jewish believers at Pentecost, enabling everyone present to hear and understand the gospel in their own language, effectively reversing the story of Babel (Acts 2).
Whether it is the language of words or of customs, we will serve God better if we learn to appreciate others’ languages rather than insist that everyone else speak our own.
An egocentric drive for uniformity led to a fracturing of relationships in Genesis 11, but in Christ we are called to find unity in diversity and thus become a blessing to all the peoples of the world. [DD]