Lifting My Eyes to the Hills

"I lift my eyes unto the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth." (Psalm 121:1)

Have you ever noticed that the psalms talk a lot about hills and mountains? Yesterday, as I stood in historic Jerusalem, where David probably was when he wrote this verse, I found out why.

While modern “Old City Jerusalem” is built on higher hills, this historic site for Jerusalem (“the city of David”) is outside those walls that stand today on a much lower hill (Eastern Hill) in the Kidron Valley. It was surrounded on all sides by hills that slope down in a bowl shape toward it.

Living in his Jerusalem, hills were an ever-present reality to David. Reading his words and gazing at the slopes all around me made the imagery so much more real and tangible to me too.

The funny thing about Psalm 121:1 though is that the hills themselves in that verse were not something that brought comfort (as we typically tend to interpret the verse) but fear. These high hills made Jerusalem an easy target, enabling her numerous and ever-present enemies to surround and shoot down into the city. The hills, then, reminded David of the enemies that surrounded him and could come swooping down to vanquish him.

The question David asks himself, then, is one of fear and uncertainty: “where will my help come from?” It was at moments like these that David claimed Yahweh as His LORD and defender. In the face of ruthless, conquering nations like the Assyrians and Babylonians, such confidence and trust was radical.

The geography of the land isn’t the only testament to David’s reliance on God. David also designed his city in a way that displayed his dependence on God as Defender. As we learned on our field study, the temple was positioned near the weakest point of the city, the North. This end of the city did not have the high hills or rugged terrain that made approaches from the other three sides more difficult. Often exploited by David’s enemies, this side of the city was particularly vulnerable.

What did David position behind the northern wall to defend it? God’s temple. The dwelling place of the LORD of Hosts, Israel’s Mighty Savior. The temple was a monument to Israel’s trust in Yahweh, boldly proclaiming to the world that “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God” (Psalm 20:7).

Trust wasn’t an optional avenue to internal peace for Israel. It was a lifeline in the face of brutal, conquering empires that could at any moment crash into your home and kill you. Can we even comprehend that?

While the hills around him at times reminded David of his vulnerability in the stepping stones to conquest that they afforded his enemies, they could also serve as a source of comfort: “As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds His people, both now and forevermore” (Psalm 125:2). The way that these hills enfolded and sheltered David’s valley from every side reminded Him of God.

Reading these words as I stood where David did was so powerful. How comforting to think of God surrounding me in that way with His Presence.

Unlike my last post, these and other similar sites that we visited this Sunday did make the verses seem a lot more real. I think it’s partly because I’ve started to shift my mindset from one that looks for “golden holy auras” to one that is beginning to appreciate the gritty realness of this place—after all, my life is one mostly composed of those same gritty, earth-bound details. And God throughout history has met people in those places. That’s what’s so shockingly amazing about God coming to earth.

I think another reason these places and passages seem more real to me then last week’s field study is that the Psalms have always been so refreshingly, life-givingly real to me. They’re so raw and honest and authentic. I’ve turned to them so many times for solace, finding often in them a starting point to understand myself and express my heart to God.

Later on in the day, we sat on the temple steps where Jesus likely taught his followers (the traditional site for rabbis to teach their disciples). Here too Paul received instruction from the highly esteemed rabbi, Gamaliel. And both were within sight of the place where David wrote his psalms. God’s work throughout the ages is rooted so deeply in this place.

We ended our day in St. Anne’s Cathedral near the Pool of Bethesda where Jesus healed the lame man. We all sang Great is Thy Faithfulness, listening to the majestic swells as the cathedral’s acoustics reverberated the words off the walls. Thinking of God’s faithfulness in this place from the time of David to Jesus to Paul to us today. It was so breathtaking. What a beautiful legacy.