I'm not walking much at the moment (because of the neuroma that I described in my post of 7th Feb) but in previous years, I and the dogs have walked thousands of kilometres through the forests and across the hillsides of southern Spain. My goal was always to walk at least the same number of kilometres as the year (2023 km in the year 2023, for example) but there were some years where we managed to clock up more than 3000 km. On our hikes, we saw, and sometimes had to clamber over, impressively large rocks of all kinds.
It's hot here in summer time; if you only walk your dog in the streets of town, you can't go out between 10 am and 7 pm because the hot concrete pavement would burn the skin off their paws. So afternoon walks, when the temperature is in the 30s, have to be on dirt paths in the forest, where there's some breeze and some shade offered by trees and rocks. That's how I noticed that the really large rocks offered a cool shadow, a respite from the blazing sunshine. It reminded me of an old Easter hymn I heard as a teenager; it described the cross of Jesus as, "the shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land." Those lyrics don't have the same impact when you live in Scotland and the shelter you're usually seeking is shelter from the driving rain. But when it's 38℃ in the sunshine, you become very aware of the protection found in the shade of a large rock: that's the place to pause and give the dogs a drink of water.
The verse quoted in that old hymn is Isaiah 32: 2, and the Hebrew word translated rock is כָּבֵד - Sela. It means exactly what you'd imagine: a high rock or cliff. Metaphorically, because of its height and strength, it's sometimes translated as "fortress." The other word used to describe God as our rock is צוּר - Tsur. The meaning is almost the same. The slight nuance is that Sela typically refers to a rugged cliff, high rock or hiding place for security, while Tsur often refers to a hard, sharp stone or a solid foundation, implying strength or permanence.
But that distinction isn't absolute. In Psalm 61: 2 - 3, for example, when the psalm writer is feeling overwhelmed and prays, "Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I am," he's obviously seeking a safe place and seeing God as a refuge from his enemies. That word for rock in Psalm 61 is tsur and it's referring to shelter and security. But the Rock (ha tsur) is also the word used in Deuteronomy 34: 4, where it's referring more to the permanence, the unchanging dependability of God's sinless perfection and justice. Like a rock in the forest or on the beach, enduring through the centuries and surviving every violent storm (like we've been having in Andalucía over the last few weeks) God's character is completely dependable: he will always be just, always be faithful and never do anything wrong. As the proverb goes, He's "solid as a rock."
So there's not a clearly defined distinction between ha Sela and ha Tsur, but they both refer to God as the Rock, our Rock*, and I'm going to meditate over the coming days on verses where those words appear.
*In the specific context of Isaiah 32, sela is not applied uniquely to God, but simply refers to a "righteous king." Lots of other verses, however, say that God is Sela, and I'll look at those this week.