Vesper approaches the Rock of Gibraltar. What a thrill! The water is alive and active
with dolphins who seem to sense our excitement as they accompany us toward the very
foundation of the ancient and famous rock. We are in waters shared by Spain and a
self-ruled British colony and Sovereign territory, that both claim possession; whose
hills are overrun with as many Macaques monkeys as tourists.
History vibrantly records that this narrow peninsula has changed hands with siege after military siege by the Moors, Spanish, French and British. And in this wild place where there is tension between nations, nature imitates with currents from two seas that meet and mix, and winds and waves that are rarely still, and a sky that produces magical brushstrokes like the turning of a kaleidoscope.
But strangely, the rock is a symbol of stability. It sits, unmoving, regal, upon its mossy throne of ages past, a “type” of the real Rock upon which our faith resides; unmoving, regal, the “Ancient of Days,” (Daniel 7:9, 13, 22) the “Rock of Israel,” (Genesis 49:24) and Christ (1 Corinthians 10:3).