This morning I came across a reading by Mark Nepo in his book More Together Than Alone. Mark recounts the story of an early civilization that all spoke the same language and so loved their tribe that they decided to build a tower so that no matter how far someone wandered they could simply turn around and find home.
The tower took much longer to build than they imagined, generations in fact, and many lost touch with the original purpose for all the resources and effort that went into building the tower. The tower was so tall that it now took a full year for each brick carrier to carry a brick to the top of the structure.
One day a brick carrier fell and died; the masses mourned the loss of brick over the worker.
Of course this is the story of the tower of Babel. The story goes on to talk about how the workers pressed on with the task, having no reverence for each other anymore, just the task at hand, building the tower.
I've seen several renditions of this story from Genesis 11:1-9 but basically God becomes displeased and according to Wikipedia "confounds their speech so that they can no longer understand each other".
As I reflect on this story I'm not focused on the idea that God would confound our speech. It seems more likely to me that humanity lost their center of compassion and was focused more on the effect than the cause, more on the task than the purpose for the task; therefore losing their ability to understand each other.
Today I'm wondering what the politics of compassion look like and how to draw upon my own values when considering how I want to participate in our body electorate. It's that time in the US when we decide what we are voting for. I recognize that the structures we've created have great value for some... I'm clear that the brick is less important to me than the worker lost.
