Bricks, Towers, and the Longing to Matter

Genesis 11:1–9

Exposition
Have you ever felt the ache to be remembered? Not in the shallow sense of social media likes or school achievements—but in the deeper, soul-throbbing way that cries out: Does my life count? Will I be known?

In the plains of Shinar, a crowd of ancient people nursed that very ache. Their solution? “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower... and make a name for ourselves.” (v.4) The Tower of Babel wasn't merely an architectural feat; it was a monument to self-made meaning, a stairway to heaven built not to meet God, but to escape obscurity. Their unity was impressive, but it was rooted in pride, not purpose; fear, not faith.
God's response may seem harsh—confusing their language, scattering their efforts—but it is, in fact, a mercy. He interrupts a dead-end project so they might rediscover their true purpose—not as name-makers, but as name-receivers. From this scattered people, God would one day call out Abraham. And through Abraham’s line would come the One whose name is above every name—Jesus—who gathers what Babel scattered and gives identity to the nameless.

Application
We still build Babels today—just in subtler ways. We craft resumes, filter selfies, inflate reputations, and polish performances. All to make a name for ourselves, fearing that without such towers, we might disappear into insignificance. But the gospel offers a better word: You are known. In Christ, you don’t need to earn your name; you’ve been given one—beloved, child of God, citizen of heaven.

So how do we live this out? First, we release the endless striving to be impressive. Whether in school or at work, friendship or ministry, we can rest in the name Christ has given us. Second, we build differently. Not towers for self-glory, but bridges of love and service that reflect God's kingdom. The Church, born at Pentecost, is now the holy city in progress—not one made of bricks, but of Spirit-filled people.

Transform Our Heart Through Prayer
Lord of all languages and nations, forgive us for building monuments to ourselves when you offer us belonging in your eternal kingdom. Teach us to rest in the name you’ve given us through Christ. Free us from the fear of being forgotten, and give us the joy of being part of your great story. By your Spirit, help us live not to make a name, but to glorify yours.
 Amen.