It’s a joy to be able to feature Mary Spacapan, who has created new work for this special edition on the arts. In keeping with the Advent season, this new work meditates on Mary, the mother of Jesus, and her response to the angel Gabriel.—Ed.
Artist reflection
The birds sing, and I rise to join the chorus. All of creation has gathered to welcome the sun. I sit within the moment; tau. There is a stillness of praise before the dawn breaks—holiness in this hour of expectation. It is dark but not really for “even the darkness cannot be dark to you” (Psalm 139:12). This revelation speaks something soft and profound to me of God’s character, like the hand that reaches out to take hold.
With a candle and coffee, I settle down before a blank canvas and a new day. I have no image in mind; painting for me has become more deeply rooted in communion, worship, and wonder. Born from curiosity, it is forged through conversation—relationship, really. I ponder the things of God’s heart and mind. We are instructed to complete his joy “by being of the same mind, having the same love” (Philippians 2:2). I want to be obedient in this—in the loving.
There was a Jesus that I had to surrender at sleep before awaking again to find him, come morning, in the memory of promise.
And so I begin—painting from promise. One mark … a second, then more. I am considering the response of Mary and her encounter with the plans and purposes for her life. The Lord was with her. She was blessed. And yet, Gabriel’s visit caught her by surprise—she was even “troubled” (Luke 1:29). I find myself troubled too at times—caught off guard. Even as I long for understanding, I find myself further shrouded by mystery.
Another mark of the brushstroke. I am drawn to two illuminations within Scripture: Mary’s honesty elicited a depth of response as Gabriel encouraged her, announcing the favour she had found with God: “And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bring forth a Son” (Luke 1:31). Referencing Isaiah 7:14, Gabriel’s words ignited a memory, activating Mary’s faith in the outworking of prophecy. Mary responds in faith, not doubt: “But how will this be?” (Luke 1:34), and the angel answers: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (Luke 1:35).
The word “overshadow” means “to cover with a cloud.” In losing our sight, we find our vision, anchored in who God is. I look at my painting, unsure how the Holy Spirit has been leading me yet confident in the “rightness” of it. Something is unfolding that is stirring memory within me. The days to complete this work have been long. Much has happened relationally by way of community, visitations, serving, and self and language. Yet, every mark is movement.
And there is a remembering—a believing. This painting serves as my song.
My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”
(Luke 1:46–55)
“There is a Remembering [On Believing]”
16 in x 20 in
Framed in FSC Beechwood
Web: mspacapan.com
Instagram: @m.spacapan
