Spirituality: Your Invisible Ink

This is addressed to the tattoo-curious; I suspect there are more of us than meets the eye. You who are tattooed may smile fondly at our approach-avoidance conflict. But of the tat-less, I want to know: What’s your invisible ink? That tattoo you alone can see?

Perhaps it appears clearly to your vision, with sharp edges and strong contrast. Or maybe it’s faint, more like a vague itch. Whichever your case, why is it there?

It seemed well to me to ask some who’ve dared the needle about what it means to them. It turns out there’s much that’s cerebral about something that seems so corporeal. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, since “ink” is three-fifths of “think.”

Kailin, my barber for a time, said her tattoos are about wearing art that is a permanent part of her. Stephanie, my congregation’s youth minister, is interested in the partnership between the tattoo artist and client. “There has to be a lot of trust,” she said. “That the artist will do a good job, yes, because there’s no going back. But also that the wearer will represent the artist’s work well.”

One of Stephanie’s most elaborate tattoos is a memorial to her sister, a gift from her favorite artist after her sister died. I asked if many tattoos are signposts of significant life events. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “And I’ve found that my ink makes me more approachable to strangers. They say, ‘You look like someone who won’t mind if I talk to you.’ It’s led to sharing my faith that God’s grace runs powerfully through my life.”

“It’s tribal sometimes, isn’t it?” I wondered to Allen, a colleague. “People get them as a sign of where and with whom they belong. And sometimes to say something important to themselves or the world. Often in decorative type. Or a picture, worth a thousand words.” He affirmed, “In a way that’s more than skin-deep.”

So, you tattoo-curious, perhaps you wonder about embedding an experience in your epidermis. Or bonding with art. Or making some word flesh. What’s upon you that’s not there yet, if ever?

I think I may see, on the tender skin of my left anterior forearm, words in Hebrew script. They are from the Talmud — specifically the “Pirkei Avos,” the Ethics/Chapters of the Fathers — and have been translated, “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” Or, “It is not your duty to complete the task, but nor is it your freedom to withdraw from it.”

There’s a tattoo shop just down the street from church. Stephanie says the artist is a good one.

The Reverend Doug Job does interim ministry for congregations in transition and keeps good memories and friends made while serving a Cape congregation. Presently, he's upriver in Hannibal, Mo. You may tell him about your tattoos — inked or invisible — at revdarkwater@gmail.com.