This week’s Torah portion, in part because of its name and in part because it spans the majority of the portion, is best known for the story of Noah and the flood that God caused to rain down for forty days and forty nights. Yet, there is another brief, yet also well-known narrative in this week’s Torah reading that comes just following the account of Noah.
In nine short verses following the narrative of Noah, the Torah turns our attention to a very different scene, the Tower of Babel. Of one people and one language, the people after the flood migrate eastward and settle in the land of Shinar. There, they say to one another “Come, let us build for ourselves a city and a tower, with its top in the heaven; and we will make for ourselves a name for ourselves, lest we be scattered across the whole earth.” Infuriated, God responds by destroying their tower, confusing the common language and purpose, and doing exactly what the people feared would happen – God scatters the people throughout the world.
What was so wrong with the people building a tower and why would the Torah find it necessary to speak of God’s need to destroy the Tower, scattering the people through the entire earth? Would it not make sense to think that people would be better off if they shared a common purpose and mission and if indeed they spoke the same language? Would it not seem like something to celebrate, that hundreds, or perhaps even thousands, of people saw fit to work together to build something lasting?
According to some commentators, the answers can be found in the close reading of the verses. In speaking to one another about the building, the people say to one another “Hava nivei lanu – let us build for ourselves…. v’naaseh lanu shem - and we will make for ourselves a name.”
The Spanish commentator, Abarbanel explains that while the people started out with common goals and purpose, as they built the city and tower they lost sight of that commonality. As they reached towards the sky, the builders made sure it was known that their tower was for them – and them alone – for the purpose of making for themselves a great name. Lost was the connection of one to another, of recognizing any place for those who might not have been involved in the building of the tower. In its place came jealousy and hatred borne in self-interest as they struggled over who could become the greater builder, whose role was more important, each person actually began talking about his own needs and interests, as if saying to one another ‘what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours’.
An earlier Midrash, found in Genesis Rabah, describes the breakdown of this unity and common purpose in a more dramatic and disastrous way: “They desired to speak to one another in the holy tongue, but they no longer possessed a common language. Thus, when one asked his neighbor for an ax, the latter brought him a spade. In his anger, the former smote him and split his skull. Then every man took his sword, and they fought against one another. Half of the world fell by the sword. [As for the rest], "God scattered them abroad from there upon the face of all the earth."
According to both these accounts, the people, having lost sight of their mission, end up in conflict with one another, more focused on their own grandeur and stature than on sharing the experience with those around them. In actuality, their very fears – of being a people scattered and separated from one another – had already happened and been multiplied. So, the scattering of the people is, in affect, a means of ending their self-destruction and trying to restore their ability to live side by side.
What a powerful reminder this is for us today. We live in a society that treasures the beauty and grandeur of elaborate structures and high towers. And, as builders of these towers, literal or metaphorical, it is so easy to get caught in our own self-importance, declaring battles of jealousy and hatred on those around us. In this week of reading the Tower of Babel, we need to remember that the holiness of our lives lies not in competing with one another, nor in destroying one another, but in recognizing the blessing of being able to live side by side and in working together to find similar language and common purpose.
Ken Yehi Ratzon – So may it be!
Shabbat Shalom.