(Genesis 10–11)
The descendants of Noah spread across the earth like branches from a single tree. Families became clans, clans became tribes, and tribes became nations. Yet for all their distance, their tongues were one. A single language bound humanity together; every word was understood, every thought was shared without barrier.
They journeyed eastward, and in the wide plain of Shinar, they settled. The land was fertile, the rivers strong, and the soil rich. Their hearts grew bold with ambition, and soon they gathered in the city square to speak of dreams greater than harvests and homes.
One man, standing upon a stone, lifted his voice to the crowd:
"Come! Let us mold bricks and burn them strong. Let us build not just houses, but a tower — a tower that climbs to the heavens! Let us make a name for ourselves, so we will never be scattered across the face of the earth."
The crowd roared its approval. Hands set to work, clay was shaped, fire roared in the kilns, and bricks piled high. Day after day, their tower climbed, a spear of stone piercing the sky. They called it Babel — the gate of God — but its foundation was pride, not worship.
From heaven, the Lord looked down upon the city and the tower men were building. The earth rang with their unity, but their unity was twisted — not toward good, but toward their own glory.
"Behold," the Lord said, "they are one people, with one language. This is only the beginning of what they will do. Nothing will be withheld from them in their arrogance. Let us go down and confuse their speech, so they will not understand one another."
And so it was. As masons passed bricks, their words turned to strange sounds. A worker asked for mortar and received only confusion. A foreman shouted commands, but his laborers no longer understood. Arguments broke into shouts, shouts into chaos. Friends became strangers, brothers became foreigners in a single moment.
The great project faltered. The tower that had once risen proudly now stood incomplete, jagged against the sky like the broken teeth of a fallen giant. Work ceased. Families gathered in confusion, speaking words no neighbor understood, and drifted apart into the lands around them.
Thus the Lord scattered humanity over the face of the earth. Their speech was divided into many tongues, and the unfinished tower remained as a monument to their pride and folly.
They called it Babel — "Confusion."