Jerusalem occupies a jagged plateau in the central Judean mountains. Travelers approaching the city faced a severe climb from the deep rift of the Jordan Valley. The terrain forces an arduous ascent through dry ravines and rocky slopes. The physical exhaustion of the journey shaped the literature of the travelers who walked these paths.
The city rests at an elevation of 2,500 feet above sea level. Higher ridges encircle the entire settlement. The Mount of Olives rises directly to the east at a height of 2,683 feet. Mount Scopus flanks the northeastern perimeter. Planners leveraged this severe topography around 450 b.c. when they rebuilt the defensive walls over the ruined foundations. The surrounding peaks form a natural barricade against hostile forces.
Mount Zion anchors the center of this geographic bowl. The Tyropoeon Valley and the Kidron Valley carve deep trenches along the eastern and western flanks of the ridge. These steep drops prevent any heavy infantry from breaching the lower gates. The bedrock foundation holds the city above the valleys and resists the mechanical force of heavy siege engines. The writers of the period looked at this physical defense and equated it to the Lord wrapping his protection around the local population.
The shape of the rock determines the survival of the settlement.
Occupants inside the walls understood the brutal value of the high ground. Their poetry records the absolute physical relief of standing on a secure ridge after a long ascent. This geographic isolation allowed the inhabitants to outlast the empires that marched through the lower plains. The stone peaks continue to hold their original positions while the human borders shift across the map.