The Final Word on Christians and Tattoos

Just kidding. The headline is a hook, a shameless piece of click-bait. Honestly, I have no idea what the final word on tattoos and Christians ought to be, but I am intrigued by the debate. In a church I served for many years, a high-school Sunday School class would hear from a teacher, “Tattoos are forbidden for a Christian,” only to come up upstairs and be compelled to interact with a couple of fellows whose arms were covered with them.

The debate springs from the Hebraic law, specifically, Leviticus 19:28:

“… You shall not make any cuts on your body or tattoo yourselves: I am the LORD.”

I have read the thoughts of many as to whether or not the marks left on the body referenced in this verse were really tattooing as we know it, since the word “tattoo” did not exist until much later. For that reason, one could argue whether the word “tattoo” is even a good rendering of the original Hebrew. Of course, that argument could apply to any translation of any ancient text on any given topic into any newer language. In any event, it seems that driving home some definitive conclusion by pursuing a linguistic and/or legalistic argument would be a lot of trouble and convince no one on either side of the discussion of anything.

On the other hand, it appears that God might have some tattoos, anthropomorphically speaking:

Can a woman forget her nursing child,

            That she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?

Even these may forget

            Yet I will not forget you.

Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands ... - Isaiah 49:15, 17

I process the matter best by thinking about similarly cryptic Hebraic laws that get much less attention than the tattoo ordinance. The ceremonial law of temple and sacrifice was fulfilled by Jesus, securing our redemption. Moral law was perfectly observed by Jesus, which means He accomplished a righteousness that can be imputed to believers. (That does not mean that the definition of morality changed.) But, there are many other laws that protected the Hebrew community in terms of health, law and order, and especially, uniqueness among the nations of the world. These, like food laws, were for national Israel and were never imposed on Christians in the church age.

Were such laws still in force, one could argue that wearing blended fabrics is forbidden to us today (Leviticus 19:19). Working a garden with multiple vegetables planted in it might be condemned (Leviticus 19:19). Goatees could be a no-no (Leviticus 19:27). And, cooking a kid goat in its mother’s milk (Exodus 23:19) … well, let’s just say that is one thrill that has never really captivated me.

It is likely that some of these laws were given to God’s people because of pagan superstitions and practices that existed among the nations surrounding Israel. In some cases, the restrictions may have simply meant, “Do not practice these things because your neighbors do practice them.” God wanted His people to be unique among the nations of the world.

My best counsel to a believer on the matter of getting a tattoo, piercing, etc., is to ask himself or herself a question that every believer should probably ask of oneself much more often than any of us do, and on many more occasions than any of us do … “Why?” And, I’m not suggesting that I or anyone other than God Himself needs to approve of your answer to that question. It is the discipline of thinking about our actions and desires that is of value. To consider one’s actions against the backdrop of our heavenly Father is NEVER a bad idea.

A tattoo might commemorate a deceased loved one. You would never hear a peep out of me. It might be an expression of unity and unwavering commitment between a husband and a wife. I would never pop-off about something like that. (In fact, a tattoo with a spouse’s name, might provide added incentive to work through hard times together. I understand that ink is harder to remove than a ring.)

On the other hand, if a child wants to get a tattoo or a piercing in direct defiance of a parent, I would feel quite comfortable saying, “That is a horrible reason, and one of which God would never approve.” Someone might be flirting with inscribing something occultic or obscene into his or her flesh. I would actively try to dissuade a believer from doing such a thing. Someone might consider tattoos as artistic expression. I might ask, “Have you ever considered needlepoint or digital photography as an alternative form of expression?” but I would not press the issue. I am not the arbiter in the matter and do not care to be. Someone says, “Everyone gets them these days. It’s no big deal. One in five American adults have one.” That argument sounds like one might be taking his lead from the world or from peers. I would be comfortable observing that such an argument seems to be approaching the context of the strange laws cited in an earlier paragraph. We do not want to do anything simply because the world or our peers pressure us.

Perhaps, you have already detected that I am not really speaking to the issue of tattoos so much as I am speaking to the issue of thinking through how we are exercising our liberty in Christ. I reiterate, and I cannot emphasize it enough; I could not care less what a person decides to do in “most” of these tattoo considerations. If I could just persuade all of us to pause a little more often and ask ourselves, “Why am I doing this?” whatever “this” is, then, I’d be satisfied. The notion of “thinking through” my use of liberty is a useful reminder to myself and not horrible piece of advice for any believer in any circumstance.

That Silly Old Guy with the Coat and Tie

The following are my own musings. I am not attributing one iota of spiritual authority to them. I have no designs on persuading anyone of anything. Think of what follows as “a thinking through” of why I do what I do.

When I was a child and for some time into my adulthood, the go-to excuses for people who did not attend church included, “They just want my money,” or, “The place is filled with hypocrites.” Those were the days when most people were at least a little reticent to bad-mouth God or Jesus. Today, it is much more acceptable, even fashionable, for unbelievers to simply come out of the closet, so to speak, and avow their atheism or agnosticism. For them, there is no reason to make silly excuses for not going to church, for it is regarded as rooted in a fable anyway.

One of those old, well-worn excuses for not going to church still seems to have an impact, albeit in an oddly inverted way. We don’t hear many people dismissing themselves from worship attendance these days with the justification, “It’s just a fashion show.” If there is such a thing as “an attire competition” at church these days, it might be for who can dress down the most and still avoid arrest. At my church, my coat and tie render me a part of a significant minority. I sometimes suspect that I might stick out like a sore thumb … an odd duck.

If dressing-up for church was just my habit or my tradition, I think I could have moved past it by now. After all, I have poked fun at many traditions in my day. For me, the deeper consideration is not what attire is or is not appropriate for church. That would lead to a foolish argument couched in rigid and legalistic terms. On the contrary, I am more impacted by my own understanding of ecclesiology (theology as applied to the nature of the church), worship and, especially, how I see myself standing in Christ’s presence.

Every Christian of every opinion should be enthralled by this sentiment that Jesus shared with His first disciples:

… ¹⁴You are my friends if you do what I command you. ¹⁵No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you …  - John 14:14, 15

I grew up singing, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Jesus calls me His friend. It follows that it is clearly appropriate that I would call Him, “my Friend.” In fact, I might very well do that in certain isolated circumstances. But, for the most part, that does not come to me very naturally. The issue is not fear, at least, not a cowering slavish fear. It is more that I still detect so much distance, in terms of holy character and holy nature, between us. That, I believe, is the fear to which we are called.

So, while I take no issue with anyone who sees the matter differently, I remain more at ease to relate to Christ as Master and Savior and God. That demands, for me, dressing respectfully for a respectful occasion. The authors of the New Testament were undoubtedly more like Jesus on so many levels than I am. They were His friends as am I. But, I cannot help but to notice that none of them refer to Him as such in their various writings. In fact, Paul’s favorite reference to himself in relation to Jesus was “a servant.”

So, when you see some silly old guy with a coat and tie, do not simply presume that he is making a fashion statement. He may not be dressing for a Friend. He may be dressing for a Master. He may be dressing for the Judge of the living and the dead. He may be dressing for the King of kings and the Lord of lords. While it may appear that he is deliberately dressing to be uncomfortable, it may very well be that dressing his best is the only way he feels remotely comfortable … given the occasion.

And, of course, as is so often the case, it could just be that he thinks too much.

Swine, Canine and Other Acquaintances of Mine

I have never been a big fan of rock musicals, which is why I was not moved one way or the other when NBC recently televised an updated production of Jesus Christ Superstar. Still, I read a number of comments from friends of mine who insisted that Alice Cooper, in the role of Herod Antipas, stole the show, so I bit. I found the video for the Herod scene online.

My first impression was: “Wow! That’s not your grandfather’s Alice Cooper,” but we all slow down with age. What I really wanted to see was the nature of the interaction between the Jesus and Herod characters. It seemed fairly accurate. Herod mocked Jesus and asked to see some miracle while Jesus remained completely silent. In the biblical narrative, there is no record that Jesus ever uttered so much as a word to this clownish, vile ruler. I could be overlooking something, but I cannot think of another instance when Jesus did not speak when spoken to. Apparently, in His divine wisdom, our Lord knew that there was nothing useful to say.

This interaction steered my attention to one of the most provocative things Jesus said in a discourse filled with provocative utterances, His Sermon on the Mount:

            “Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you.”  - Matthew 7:6

I don’t know about you, but I find that to be a bit of a head-scratcher in that it raises two difficult questions: 1) Is Jesus saying that there are persons unworthy to hear the gospel? More troublesome is the second question: 2) Is Jesus trusting me to make a judgement about who these characters are that are unworthy to receive the gospel? An affirmative answer to both questions seems inevitable.

There have been times when I have failed to speak about Christ and regretted it. There have been other times when I have failed to speak and was unsure as to whether I should regret it or not. A patsy for guilt and accusation, I am sure I have beaten myself up when it was unnecessary to do so. Was it really essential to say something? Perhaps, it would not have even been appropriate to speak.

If am a witness for Jesus, as every Christian is, but I am not spiritually-gifted as an evangelist per se, I do not believe that I am justifying my cowardice when I confess that I need to recognize a spark of need and/or openness in a person before I engage him or her in a discussion about the gospel. I currently work in a situation where there are many vile, clownish people. They do not wield the authority of a Herod, but they demonstrate a similar spiritual appetite. I have never felt a compulsion to barge into the midst of some profane or obscene discussion in which they are engaged with a message of “Turn or burn!”

Instead, I keep my eyes open for people who seem lonely, estranged from the greater group, and I try to befriend them. I determine to let the abuse that gets thrown around quite often roll off my back, not because I am hard to wound or anger, but because I know that my representation of Christ in that arena depends on my patience and self-control.

I trust God’s mercy on me if I am wrong about any of this, but I am compelled to admit that there are times when I fail to admire the courage of that “in-your-face, confrontational type of evangelist” because I suspect that he is doing more kingdom harm than good. I also have serious reservations about the mindset that the religious right should work overly hard to get their own slate of candidates into office so that our sense of morality can be imposed on others by the force of law. Dare I say that I detect, rightly or wrongly, a lot of pearl-tossing to swine going on.

Understand that I am not professing to be fool-proof in my ability to delineate between swine, canine and persons who might be receptive to Christ. And, let us not react too emotionally to the terms “swine” and “dogs.” I take these metaphors to simply mean that some people are hostile to the topics of sin, repentance and eternity. Their personal demeanors inform me that trying to convince them of the truth may not be the best way to expend my own limited time and energy. But, they may also be God’s project for now. One person may be a swine today and a totally different receptor for truth tomorrow. After all, it is the Holy Spirit that awakens a hunger for God in any of us.

Isaiah prophesied during the reign of four kings. He ceased his preaching ministry before he was executed by a fifth king, the evil Manasseh. Did Isaiah feel no burden to prophesy to that king? Perhaps, Isaiah somehow just understood that this evil royal was not his project. King Manasseh was clearly swine material. But, sometime after Isaiah was dead and gone, God drove Manasseh to repentance. I never thought of that as a failure on Isaiah’s part.

These are tricky thoughts. One could easily use them to justify never speaking out for Christ. But, the flipside of that coin is that casting pearls to swine is a fruitless endeavor. May God bless you as you ferret out solutions whenever you encounter such areas of tension, wondering whether it is best to speak or not to speak.