I almost got a tattoo once.
I was seventeen, full to the brim with angst, and dead set on what I wanted. I asked my parents, and while it seems completely strange when I think about it now, they hesitantly agreed. I was pretty sure you had to be 18 though, so I got them to write a signed letter of permission, describing in detail the design I had in mind.
More than a third of all North American men and women between 18 and 28 have tattoos. Put into perspective, that means millennials are four times likelier to invest in ink than their gen-X forerunners. About half of this cohort has either gotten a tattoo, has had their hair dyed an “untraditional” colour, or has been pierced in a place other than their ear lobe. These numbers, part of a larger, growing trend, are generally similar, if not the same both in the context of the church and outside of it. So basically you are just as likely to sit beside someone on Sunday morning who has a tattoo as you are sitting on a city bus.
In case you missed it, or weren’t alive to hear about it, people used to make a big deal about this sort of thing. A really big deal. Over the course of the past two decades, however, the evangelical church in North America has seen a major shift in how it views the issue. While many remain set in their opposition, and others are not so sure, a lot of people — if they aren’t already tattooed themselves — simply wouldn’t think twice if someone with marked-up arms stood up and started preaching.
So why such a sudden change in opinion? Much of the stigma surrounding tattoos for most of the 20th century was because they were typically associated with the likes of soldiers, sailors, and gang members. But that way of thinking has almost disappeared. What is more, tattoos are now associated with celebrity and fashion cultures and countercultures, which has in turn added to their popularity and allure among young Christians. The classic Levitical text, often cited by concerned parents, has generally been dismissed in light of its historical setting (the verses prior prohibit eating steak cooked rare and trimming beards). And calls to focus on more urgent matters like evangelism and global justice have limited the extent of the debate.
In an increasingly individualistic context, in which the human body is often viewed as a canvas for creative self-expression, tattoos are seen as a means by which people are able to visually tell their story. We are creatures that make sense out of symbols, whether they take the form of an image of the cross on your back, a fish on your ankle, or your father’s name on your shoulder. “Like the pile of stones that Israel raised when entering the Promised Land to remember God’s faithfulness,” writes Matthew Anderson in his book Earthen Vessels, tattoos often function to “remind us of the events that have shaped us, giving a sense of a stable core.”
Still, many remain troubled. “Our bodies aren’t ours,” they respond. “They belong to God.” Christians frequently voice their concerns regarding misguided motives, mimicry of broader cultural trends, and the expense of it all … If nothing else, the issue falls into the Biblical category of “a matter of conscience,” in which case a number of guiding questions, rather than any sort of universal principle or spiritual law applies. Why is it that you want this so badly? Could having visible tattoos become a point of major division in your family or community, or limit your ability to work effectively in other contexts?
The letter my parents wrote never made it into anyone’s hands. I thought about it for a week, and anxious about the permanence of it, decided to bail on my friends who went ahead and got theirs done. There is no doubt in my mind I would have regretted the cliché, Latin script I had planned to be printed across my wrist. I hadn’t thought it through, and the decision was more than anything about fashion. I now have many of friends with meaningful and beautiful tattoos, but back then (and likely now still), it just wasn’t for me.
Flickr photo (cc) by catanachapodaca
