The Songs of Ascentಮಾದರಿ

Ancient Travel Insurance

Psalm 121

Modern travel is amazing. Right now, if I wanted to, I could hop in my car and be in another state in just a few hours. If I wanted to explore, I could drive coast to coast in just a few days, and for even more adventure, I could immediately head to the airport and wake up tomorrow morning on another continent. All this travel is amazingly quick and inexpensive by historical standards, and it’s also tremendously comfortable. In the ancient world, traveling was difficult and dangerous.

The anonymous poet who penned Psalm 121 knows this. Likely speaking as a pilgrim on his way to Jerusalem, he says, “I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from?” (v. 1). He then immediately answers his question: “My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth” (v. 2). In an age when highway robbery was a real danger, the mountains provided plenty of rocks and crags for thieves to hide behind before exploding on an unsuspecting traveler. This may be why the psalmist lifts his eyes to the mountains; he’s wary of the unseen danger that may come from them.

In the ancient world, mountains were also thought to be the dwelling place of the gods. A mountaintop touched the sky and was seen as an excellent meeting place between heaven and earth. The higher elevations were also removed from civilization. People didn’t live there, so it makes sense that that’s where the gods would spend their time. When the psalmist casts his gaze at the mountain peaks in the distance, he may signal to readers that help doesn’t come from the gods of the nations; it comes from Yahweh alone.

He proclaims the Lord “will not let your foot slip.” It is the Lord “who watches over you” (v. 3). It is the Lord who “will neither slumber nor sleep” (v. 4). It is the Lord who “is your shade at your right hand” (v. 5). It is the Lord who “will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going” (vv. 7–8). For faithful travelers on their way to Jerusalem, these words brought comfort. God is not confined to a single place. God’s sight is not limited to one vantage point. He is the God who travels with us and watches over us. We can sleep on the journey because he never does.

Worn-out sandals may have been replaced with climate-controlled automobiles. A tent staked in the desert sands may have become a hotel room with a skyline view. Everything about how we travel may have changed, but God has not. Our help still “comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth” (v. 2).