Is tattooing an incarnational practice?

By Amy Frykholm

In the Left Behind series, people who become Christians after the Rapture receive marks on their foreheads—a kind of three-dimensional, holographic tattoo that only other Christians can see. These marks stand in contrast to the “Mark of the Beast” mark on the foreheads of those who have chosen to follow the Antichrist. I find the desire to inscribe Christians with a “mark” fascinating. In Protestantism, we have frequently reduced salvation to something intangible, unaffected by material practices. In Left Behind, a simple “mark” solves that perplexing, age-old question about who is saved and who is not. The tattoo removes all uncertainty. Whew. Problem solved. Except it’s not that simple, of course, since bad people learn how to imitate the mark and the true believers can be deceived by unbelievers and the cycle of uncertainty, even with the special mark, goes on and on.

Tim Keel’s recent article in the Century discusses Christian tattooing of another sort: Christians who mark themselves using permanent ink on their skin.

These highly individualized and personally expressive marks follow what Keel calls “an incarnational logic,” by which he means that they are outward marks of inward transformation. But what exactly do we mean when we say that something is “incarnational,” and is tattooing truly an incarnational practice? I would argue that an incarnational practice is not one that marks inner transformation, but one that relates directly to Christian action in the world. Like tattooing, an incarnational practice involves the human body and mingles spiritual and material practices. Unlike tattooing, however, an incarnational practice’s primary purpose is empathy. Christ’s incarnation, for example, involves taking on our human nature and becoming “with us”; it is an act of empathy, and our incarnational practices should be the same. Tattooing is not so much about expressing empathy as about individual choice or self-expression.

An incarnational practice addresses human need—hunger, thirst, cold, fear, loss, despair, loneliness. Through incarnational practices, we reach from one person to another and cross boundaries through love. Perhaps, as some tattooers claim, they are able to “reach” people with Christ’s love through their tattoos, but then how is a tattoo different than a tract? It is a message written on the skin instead of on paper, but does contact with the body make it incarnational?

I wonder if tattooing is popular in part because our culture renders bodies oddly unreal. We are constantly battling to control our bodies, but they often don’t seem to be ‘us’; they are somehow not adequate and not sacred expressions of the self. Our bodies are dieted, medicated, dissected, virtualized—but not exactly incarnated. So we struggle to find ways to make our own bodies real. Perhaps by the pain inflicted through tattooing, bodies become more real to themselves and are prepared for incarnational practices.

I’m still troubled about tattooing as a Christian practice. In addition to expressing individual identity, tattoos are often used to inscribe their wearers into a group, to express belonging. Instead of the human body being expressive of a common humanity, something that Christ shared with us, a tattooed body inscribed with Christian symbolism says, “I am part of an exclusive club.” Like the imaginary and spiritualized tattoos of Left Behind, the tattoos emphasize who is in and who is out. I’m more interested in what we do with our bodies, tattooed or not. Do we use them for acts of love and service? Do we reach beyond the boundaries of our own skin in acts of empathy? These are the truly incarnational practices.

Amy Frykholm is a special correspondent at Christian Century

Comments

[Tom]

Thaks, Amy. I agree. Something that's incarnational involves physical presence with and for other people and may also include the practice of sacrifice for others. Tattooing is "showing me." "Hi, see me? See my body?" Not everything physical is incarnational, even if a Christian does it.

[Randy Jones]

There is an injunction against tattooing in the Torah. Why? Because most of the world around the Israelites tattooed themselves for one reason or another. This was one more way God's people were set apart from the world.

Jesus made it clear that we are to be in the world but not of the world. If Christians go about marking their bodies in the same manner as the world, then how are we different? Christian symbol or not, in my view, a tattoo puts the wearer in the world's club. As Tom says it points to the wearer and not to Christ.

[Douglasah]

Intention has to be a major factor. If I as a Christian have a mark on my body so that others might know what they may expect of me - that I will offer Christ's love to them - than it could be incarnational. If the mark is a part of my identification for service and consistant with my behavior, it could be similar to any other symbol we wear. As for the Israelites not tattoing themselves, they may have not put ink under their skin, but remember who gave us circumsision... a scar is as much of a mark as ink.

[Jason]

In addition to the Torah's injunction, there is Dr. Suess's wisdom on such matters which begins: "Now the Star-bellied Sneetches had bellies with stars. The Plain-bellied Sneetches had none upon thars...."

[Diane]

has anybody read Flannery O'Connor's story "Parker's Back"? About a man with tattoos who marries a severe fundamentalist woman... he gets a tattoo of Jesus to please her... I think there's a great conversation in this story...

[Chaplain Larry]

The choice to wear tatoos on my body was completely self centered, though not evil. Nevertheless as a clergyman with tatoos I have attracted conversations about the meaning of Christ and Christian faith from institutionalized criminals who would ordinarily never approach any kind of preacher, except to rob him. Mysterious ways?

[Julie Clawson]

a few thoughts -

tattoos are not incarnational of themselves, but they can be used as incarnational tools - means by which one can be Christ to the world. They can be points on conversation, expressions of inclusive grace and acceptance (as opposed to holier than thou expressions of judgement based on physical appearance).

But they do not always have to be used as tools. Even as symbols of faith they can have the same function as a cross necklace, a christian t-shirt, a bumper sticker, or (depending on your tradition) a baptism - outward expressions of the faith that is within you.

Or they can just be really cool style choices or works of art.

btw - my tattoo is a dove with an olive branch in it's mouth. interpret, accept, or condemn as you will.

[Jason Byassee]

The mention of Flannery O'Connor's story is right on. She doesn't really answer the question (she's a parabolic writer after all), but leans in the direction of sympathy with the poor husband whose tattoo of the most Byzantine Christ he can find is beaten by his austere, hyper-Protestant wife until welts form on Jesus' face. Of course O'Connor is always sympathetic with the more 'fundamentalist' characters too--saying once she'd be some sort of fire breathing Pentecostal if she weren't Catholic.

[Matthew]

Christians have been tattooing themselves for quite a long time now. I'm wondering what you make of the Coptic tradition of getting tattoos after completing a pilgrimage to Jerusalem?

I fear we Christians take ourselves too seriously.

[Mary M.]

Amy - Because of my daughter's choice to tattoo herself three times, I was fascinated by your article and the responses. Not looking for answers really, I found the theories and beliefs behind tattoos most interesting.Perhaps the answers to her choices are in the aforementioned -- somewhere.

[Ellie]

Tatoos aside... my husband and I discussed the responsiblity of driving carefully when you have a sticker on your car window that identifies you as a Christian. If someone else is wearing a symbol of his or her beliefs, don't you expect them to actually exhibit the best of what that means? Getting the insides congruent with the outsides is rather difficult sometimes.