In chapter 10, we find a fascinating little snippet about a character named Peleg.

We're told that in the thirty-third jubilee – a jubilee being a period of 49 years – and specifically, in the first year of the second week of that jubilee, Peleg took a wife. Her name was Lômnâ, and she was the daughter of Sînâ’ar. A bit of a mouthful, I know!

Then, in the fourth year of that week, Lômnâ bore Peleg a son, and he named him Reu. The reason behind the name is the key to this whole passage, really.

"Behold," Peleg declared, "the children of men have become evil through the wicked purpose of building for themselves a city and a tower in the land of Shinar." for a second. He names his son Reu because he sees the people around him succumbing to wickedness. It’s like naming your child "Warning Sign" or "Wake-Up Call"!

The Book of Jubilees then elaborates. It tells us that the people had journeyed from the land of Ararat eastward to Shinar – that same Shinar where Lômnâ came from. And it was there, in Shinar, that they built the city and the tower. Remember the Tower of Babel? This is it. The motivation? "Go to, let us ascend thereby into heaven."

This isn’t just about construction; it's about intention. It's about humanity's desire to reach the divine, to usurp God's place. The tower isn’t just a building; it's a symbol of arrogance, of a refusal to accept our limitations.

So, what’s the takeaway?

Peleg, witnessing this ambition firsthand, names his son Reu as a constant reminder of humanity’s potential for self-destruction. It’s a powerful act, a desperate attempt to instill a sense of humility and caution in the face of unchecked ambition. It is also thought that the name Peleg means “division” in Hebrew, referring to the division of the earth that occurred in his days (Genesis 10:25).

Are we still building towers of our own, metaphorical or otherwise? Are we still driven by the desire to reach for the heavens, even if it means losing our way? Perhaps we all need a Reu in our lives – a constant reminder to stay grounded, to remember our place, and to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past.