(for the week of October 9^th, 2010/1 Heshvan, 5771)

Parashat “Noach”
Genesis 6:9-11:32

This week’s parasha is mostly taken up with the familiar story of Noah and the ark.  However, in Genesis 11, towards the end of the portion, we come to the brief but compelling story of the Tower of Babel.  We are told that: “Everyone on earth had the same language and the same words (Gen. 11:1).”  We learn that humanity started building a city and a tower  “…with its top in the sky, to make a name for ourselves; else we shall be scattered all over the world (Gen. 11:4).”  We hear that God was so concerned about the implications of this building project that God confused their speech until they no longer understood each other’s language and then scattered them all over the earth (Gen. 11:7-8).  The question is:  What was the great sin that merited this severe punishment?

One answer focuses on the power of community, for good or for evil.  We are accustomed to thinking of ‘community’ as a positive spiritual value.  Most of us long for relationship, for a sense of connectedness, because of the life-sustaining, meaning-giving energy that flows from those bonds.   But what happens when the power of our connections is harnessed in the service of destructive goals?  What happens when strong communities are created around a shared commitment to terrible values?   Consider the power of a street gang as a human community or of Al Qaeda or the Klan.   In many instances, members of these groups derive a powerful sense of belonging, shared identity and connection from their membership.  Clearly, the power of human community is not automatically a force for good in the world.

“Everyone on the earth had the same language and the same words.”  At first glance, this development would seem like a huge step towards human redemption and peace in the world.  Every human being speaks the same language.  Everyone shares a common vocabulary.  We can communicate with anyone on the planet.  We can build connections and relationships.

Yet the Babel generation used this precious gift of shared language to build a tower, to create a monument to themselves (i.e., “to make a name for ourselves”).  They didn’t use their common language and the connections it made possible to help each other, to foster greater understanding of their differences, to create a society built on justice and compassion.  Instead, they squandered this gift in the service of reassuring themselves that, together, they were very powerful—perhaps as powerful as the God whose dwelling they aspired to reach.   And that is one interpretation of their sin.  They misused the power of this potential blessing for an evil purpose.  They proved themselves unworthy of (or, at least, not yet ready for) this gift.

For us, of course, the questions remain.  Having learned that “community” is not automatically a good thing, we become responsible for how we use the great power that lives in human relationships and connections.  As heirs of the generation of Babel, we need to ask ourselves:  What purpose does my community serve?  What are its goals?  What are the shared values that guide us?  And most importantly, what are we trying to build together and why?