Our Lady, Lighthouse and Cairn
This painting draws together memories of the Hebridean crossings between Benbecula and North Uist, reflections from the Divine Office, and the writings of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux. In the image of Our Lady as both lighthouse and cairn, I wanted to explore guidance, trust, danger, and hope in Christ amid darkness and uncertainty.
 |
| North Ford, Benbecula c. 1880s Source |
The Hebridean Crossing
The painting began with stories told to me by my mother-in-law, Belle MacPhee of Benbecula in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides. As a young girl, she crossed the ford between Benbecula and North Uist long before a causeway existed. The journey depended entirely on the rhythm of the tide and could only be attempted when the water was low enough. Even then, it required local knowledge, patience, and courage.
People crossing the ford travelled mainly by horse and cart across a landscape both beautiful and exposed, where sea, sand, and sky could seem to merge into one another. The crossing was marked not by a visible road but by cairns: stone markers placed at intervals to indicate the safe route across uncertain ground.
These cairns stayed in my imagination for years. They were not ornamental features in the landscape but practical signs of safety and survival. They did not remove the dangers of the crossing, but they made it possible to pass through them.
At times the horse had to swim through deeper pools while the cart floated behind. I often imagine what that must have felt like for a little girl: the cold air, the shifting water, the uncertainty beneath, and the trust required to continue. Yet the cairns remained steady and unassuming, marking a path where none could otherwise be seen.
 | ||
|
Cairns and the Spiritual Life
Reflecting on Belle's stories, I began to see in them an image of the spiritual life itself. We do not always travel on clear and certain ground. Often we move forward through obscurity, trusting signs that have been faithfully placed before us.
I found an echo in a spiritual form of these Hebridean crossings in the Common of the Blessed Virgin Mary from the Divine Office:
Gentlest of all virgins,
that our love be faithful,
keep us from all evil,
gentle, strong and grateful.Guard us through life’s dangers,
never turn and leave us,
may our hope find harbour
in the calm of Jesus.
The image of guidance through danger also brought to mind a passage from Story of a Soul by Saint Thérèse of Lisieux. Writing of perseverance amid darkness and suffering, she compares the soul to a pilot steering through a storm towards the distant light of harbour:
“…just as in the midst of a furious storm the pilot who is bearing down on the port does not lose courage, in the same way this soul of faith, catching sight of the shining lighthouse of the eternal shore, valiantly gave the final strokes of the oar to reach the port.”
Gradually these different strands of memory, prayer, and reflection came together in a single image: Our Lady as both lighthouse and cairn.
A lighthouse shines from afar, orienting those who are still distant from harbour; a cairn stands close within the traveller’s path, marking the next safe step. Together they suggest two kinds of guidance: one that draws the heart onward, and one that quietly keeps the feet from straying.
The Painting
In the painting, Our Lady is shown in the form of a cairn: solid, grounded, and quietly guiding. A cairn is made of many stones carefully placed together, and so it suggests patience, endurance, and fidelity over time.
The stones are built up through layered and expressive brushwork to give a sense of both weight and stillness. I wanted the figure to feel as though she belongs to the landscape itself and yet also rises from it as a sign of presence and protection.
Against this monumental form, the face remains calm and attentive. Mary looks directly outward, meeting the gaze of the viewer. Her expression is neither smiling nor sorrowful, but watchful and still. The simplified forms, strong outlines and frontal gaze draw on something of the visual language of the icon, while the visible brushwork retains the warmth of a human face. Her hair, arranged in rhythmic bands around her head, introduces a gentle movement around this still centre, perhaps suggesting something of the movement of the sea.
There is also a contrast between the almost impersonal solidity of the cairn and the presence of the face looking out from it. The traveller is not guided merely by a marker, but met by a watchful presence.
At the same time, she is also a lighthouse.
Her halo, worked in 24 ct gold leaf, catches and reflects the light against the deep blue of the painting. The contrast between luminous gold and enveloping blue evokes both the uncertainty of darkness and the assurance of guidance. Blue suggests the sea, the night sky, and the emotional depth of prayer, while the gold interrupts that darkness gently and steadily like a distant beacon.
Gold leaf, a feature found in many sacred icons, signifies divine light that does not fade or diminish. Here it is not merely decorative, but symbolic of grace, presence, and hope.
Mary’s open hands suggest both protection and invitation. They are not possessive, but welcoming and offering, as though she receives the traveller while also directing the traveller onward. Her calm expression does not deny hardship or danger, but bears witness to a peace that can endure.
Christ at the Centre
At the centre of the painting is Christ, present within Our Lady as a small yet radiant living light.
For me, this is essential to the meaning of the image. Mary is honoured here not as an end in herself, but as the one who bears and reveals Christ. All light in the painting emanates from Him and draws the eye towards Him, for He is its source and fulfilment.
The hidden yet luminous presence of Christ points to the mystery of the Incarnation: divine light entering the darkness of the world quietly, in humility and love.
If Mary is lighthouse and cairn, it is only because she carries within her the one who is harbour, firm ground, and dawn.
A Prayer in Colour and Light
In bringing together the imagery of lighthouse and cairn, I wanted to express both distant guidance and the marking of each step along the way. One image speaks of longing and destination; the other of nearness and daily faithfulness.
Both belong to the Christian journey.
There are times when we need to lift our eyes and remember the harbour for which we are bound, and times when we need only the next safe marker before us.
In this image, I see Our Lady as both beacon and companion: one who draws us onward, keeps us from losing the path, and leads us safely to Christ, our true harbour and firm ground.
The painting is therefore not only a recollection of Hebridean memory but also a prayer in colour and light: a meditation on guidance, trust, and the hope of reaching home.
Comments
Post a Comment