I can’t help thinking that David Beckham’s arms are responsible for all this.
Somewhere around the mid-2000s or so, deep into his playing career, one of the planet’s most famous footballers suddenly began to do what very few elite sportsmen up until then had done: he began to cover his arms in tattoos. Lots of them. Angels, stars, roses, clouds, portraits, writing. Within a very short space of time, Beckham had covered both arms in tattoo sleeves before moving onto his chest, torso and neck. But here was the thing: Beckham wasn’t some bad-boy, fringe footballer kicking a ball around in a lower league. He was the sparkling mainstream itself. He was Coca-Cola. He was McDonalds. He was one of the most famous sportsmen on the planet, and people wanted to look like him.
… having lots of tattoos didn’t just become acceptable, it became aspirational.
Gradually other footballers began to fill their arms with ink, and before long it wasn’t just bikers and metal band members covered in tattoos – ordinary footballers were sporting sleeves and neck pieces. That was years ago. Today, it’s hard to find a televised game of professional sport that doesn’t feature many heavily tattooed performers, except for golf or chess. For now. And because athletes and artists set the tone for western society, having lots of tattoos didn’t just become acceptable, it became aspirational.
Years ago, in other words, tattoos were so rare that you might get them to rebel against society. Today, they’re so common that you might get them to fit in.
Over the years I have heard many in the church asking variants of the same question: “Are Christians allowed to get tattoos?” The question often comes up because of a single Old Testament verse that seems to forbid it. But in our generation, there’s another question looming over God’s people. A matter bigger than something simply being allowed or forbidden. It’s a question of freedom, of community, of bearing with each other, of not just living for ourselves. And so perhaps when it comes to tattoos – which are, after all, just decorations on skin – we’ve not been giving the wrong answers, we’ve just been asking the wrong question.
And so perhaps when it comes to tattoos…we’ve just been asking the wrong question.
When Scripture deals directly with the question of tattoos, it does so without any ambiguity: “Do not,” says God to Moses, “cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves. I am the Lord.” (Leviticus 19:28, NIV) It’s contained within a very specific holiness code given to Israel, which was designed to separate them from the people of the land they were going to inhabit – people who were so profoundly evil that God destroyed them. Implicit in the forbidding of tattoos was the fact that the practice was done in worship of the dead, something God’s people were not allowed to do. The practice is alluded to once more in Deuteronomy 14:1, and then not mentioned again. There is no carry-over of the command into the New Testament at all, and so the rational conclusion is that, like other forbidden ritual acts which Christians freely take part in today, such as preparing meat and dairy together and mixing clothing fibres, tattoos in themselves are simply neutral decorations on the body that are not necessarily sinful. That’s the short answer to the short question. We don’t seem to be prohibited from doing it. The Christian is free.
But there’s another more important question. If we are free in matters like these, exactly how do we take up our freedom? If I, as a Christian, seem to be at liberty in something like this, what then? The truth is that tattoos, despite being thrust into the mainstream of culture, still do divide opinions. There’s still an association with edginess, with some kind of rebellion, for example. Different cultures do not agree about them: someone from central Africa or north India might be deeply disturbed by the sight of one. Older generations, who are generally more conservative, often find them distasteful. In short, many people simply feel that you ought not to put permanent images on your body. The way that the world deals with this type of thing is to say, “I don’t really care what you feel. All that matters is what I feel.” To live according to our generation means each person exists for themselves and answers to themselves. But the church is not meant to operate like the world; it’s meant to be the exact opposite. We’re meant to live with liberty, but also with others in mind. We don’t have the right to act as though no one is affected by our freedoms.
We’re meant to live with liberty, but also with others in mind.
Our guiding Scripture, then, when it comes to the question of tattoos, is not Leviticus 19. It’s Romans 14, which doesn’t even mention them.
The letter to the Romans is perhaps one of the most stunning pieces of writing in all of antiquity, but it wasn’t written as a high-minded theological or philosophical thesis. It was written to the church in Rome, which was divided by two different cultures within it: Jews and Gentiles. Paul bridged those divisions by repeatedly appealing to justification by faith, which cuts across every culture and divide. And near the letter’s conclusion, Paul was still thinking about their differences. But now, in chapter 14, he had something specific in mind: how to deal with each other when it came to disputable matters.
The examples he used were highly relevant to them: eating food that had been sacrificed to idols (Romans 14:2) and observing special calendar days (Romans 14:5). Both matters were easily dealt with, because Jesus made it clear that all food was fine to eat (Mark 7:19) and that He had fulfilled even the requirements of the Sabbath (Matthew 5:17), the most sacred of days to Jews. There really wasn’t an argument to be had, and yet clearly there was some arguing going on. Even though these subjects were clear, it had become a matter of conscience, evidently based on the cultural backgrounds of those with objections. Gentile converts with pagan pasts couldn’t bear the thought of eating meat that had previously been offered to idols, and Jews who’d strictly held to the Sabbath their entire lives couldn’t believe it was possible to treat it as an ordinary day. They were both free in Christ now, but – this is the important part – if they believed it was wrong for them, then it was wrong for them. They needed to hold the line and not sin against their own consciences. They were technically free before God but bound by what they believed about the matter. Paul was addressing this dynamic.
Any of us in Paul’s position might have dismissed the issue with the wave of a hand: “Each to his own.” We probably would have told everyone to just do what they felt happy with, and anyone who had an issue with that could just get over it. In fact, it looked as if Paul himself was getting at that: “Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another,” he began in verse 13.
But Paul wasn’t telling people to get over it. In fact, he was speaking to the people who felt free in these matters – the people who might have felt justified in telling those with different opinions to just relax. Look at the very next line: “Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister.”
Denying our own rights is the price of admission into God’s household.
With those words, Paul shattered any sense of entitlement. He smashed personal autonomy for the sake of corporate unity. He made the community, not the individual, the most important thing. Others, others, others, said Paul. It’s about others. Not yourself. Others. This was his approach to a disputable matter that came down to a sense of personal conviction: those who feel free should restrain themselves for the sake of those who do not. It goes against every instinct we have, and that’s the point. Denying our own rights is the price of admission into God’s household.
“I am convinced, being fully persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that nothing is unclean in itself,” he went on. “But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for that person it is unclean. If your brother or sister is distressed because of what you eat, you are no longer acting in love. Do not by your eating destroy someone for whom Christ died.” (Romans 14:14-15, NIV) This is how Paul dealt with matters of conscience: he was looking for self-restraint to overrule self-expression; for love to overrule liberty. And this, which appeals to the heart rather than a set of rules, shows us how we should approach tattoos.
I am convinced that a tattoo is not unclean. It’s a picture on the skin. I happen to love tattoos, and have them myself – in fact, I have many. It never occurred to me that anyone might have a problem with that, because for most of my life it never occurred to me to care what anyone thought. As I gave myself to fellowship with God’s people and began to leave that selfish way of thinking, though, I realised that as a member of Christ’s body it did matter what people thought of my appearance; of the way I presented myself.
I believe it’s possible to live with both freedom and restraint
One night, after I had preached with my tattoos showing, a woman in our congregation who I considered a good friend came up to me. She was obviously trying to get her words to come out right. “Shaun, I am fully behind you and support and love you,” she said, “but I believe tattoos are sinful. I believe it’s wrong to have them.” She wasn’t asking me to remove them with laser surgery, or to do anything at all – she just wanted me to know that she was struggling whenever she saw them; that they were a stumbling block for her, to use Paul’s phrase. And in that moment, I saw it. I truly saw it. I saw my freedom; I saw her tender conscience; I saw the obstacle between us. I saw that my life was in community, and this woman was my community, and I had no right to do whatever I wanted and expect her to feel nothing. I saw that she was just one person who felt this way, and there could be many others. I simply didn’t know. And I also saw her point. It wasn’t unreasonable or silly. So, I made her a promise: I would never again wear short sleeves at a Sunday meeting, a gathering or a conference. In the years since, I have only worn long sleeves at corporate gatherings or when I film anything for a wider audience, no matter how hot it is. I just have no idea who might be there, who might see me, and who might be bothered by something that doesn’t bother me. And it isn’t worth the risk. I can’t live my life in fear of what people think of my appearance, but tattoos do have a specific connotation, no matter how popular David Beckham made them. Paul has told me to help my brothers and sisters in Christ, not to make things harder for them.
Honestly, I believe it’s possible to live with both freedom and restraint: freedom to be our unique and creative selves, but the willingness to restrain our liberties when it’s required. As with so much in the kingdom of God, the balanced way is the right way. “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit,” Paul continued, “because anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and receives human approval.” (Romans 14:17-18, NIV) This is how we are to live, aiming at pleasing God and at helping others. God puts every believer in a community bigger than themselves, and then calls them to consider what that means. It’s not about being allowed to get tattoos. It was never about being allowed to get tattoos. It’s about the heart. That’s the true test.
A dear friend of mine, a tattoo artist, on hearing that I cover my tattoos up in certain situations, once asked me if I was ashamed of them. Not in the slightest, I told him. I love them. But I will be ashamed if God shows me one day that I took the freedom He gave me and lived life on my own terms.
