If I asked you to picture the Virgin Mary, what image would be conjured up in your mind.

I know who I'd see. I'd see a mother looking dotingly, lovingly, endlessly caringly at her baby. I'd see a halo. I'd see perfection. I'd see a

white woman with rosy pink cheeks and blue eyes and blonde hair.

And I'd see someone who doesn't look anything like me.

I'm Cheney MacDonald and I'm a black woman living in the UK.

I'm a writer and broadcaster and my day job is director of a think tank that explores

religion in society. I wrote a book recently called God is not a white man. I'm currently working

on a book that explores the divine images and how they relate to motherhood, and how that compares to us

as mere mortals. So I think a lot about divine images

and how they compare to us as human beings. And recently I discovered that there are such a thing

as black Madonna icons. So I've come to France to find out more about them.

Apparently there are more here than anywhere else in the world.

I have felt extraordinarily excited about this because there's a sense of the unknown

and there's a sense of adventure,

a sense of going on a pilgrimage in search of something

that is not easily accessible

and also nervous about how exactly I'm going to feel

when I'm standing in front of Black Madonna.

I've never seen one before.

The fear is complicated because I have spent most of my

life as a Christian with a certain perception of who God is and even now despite the kind of years

that I've done in trying to undo this I often imagine God as white and male. I often imagine

...