Eternal Tattoos
Tattoos are here to stay, quite literally. Today, they are proudly worn by people of all walks of life. Celebrities, models, athletes, and several of the ladies at My Cup of Tea bear visible ones.
For those with whom I can explore the significance of their permanent body art, I have learned much, and discovered my inquiry is welcomed. I usually begin with the innocuous and curious query, “Did it hurt, and how much did it cost?”
Since I love the ladies we employ, and no offence is ever noted, a genuine and personal connection has often deepened. Their tattoos are a permanent diary declaring, “this represents a pivotal moment, a person, a partner, a purpose, a group and/or a point in time that defines me.”
The decision to get a tattoo for a single mom in Memphis, living in Orange Mound, can often be misunderstood. It’s not a frivolous choice. Changing hair braids, boots, and stick-on nails go with the flow of fashion and give brief and fresh visibility. However, the ladies have control of very few durable things that are primary to their health and well-being.
Housing, income, transportation, and systemic circumstances are unreliable. “My body is mine,” a tattoo declares to all. “Here are my visual markers, identity, and testament.” Reclaiming ownership inked with symbols, the message shouts, “I belong to this, and this belongs to me.” It’s a choice for a lifetime funded with emotional currency.
One of my best friends in Orange Mound has a cross on the inside of his wrist. He reminds himself, “This is to Whom I belong.” One of the ladies in the tea company has “Josiah” written on her forehead, conveying to all of us, “This baby boy is always on my mind.” For my friends, a tattoo is a strategic, intentional identity, and permanent. It’s an act asserting their own stories where struggles and trials are etched on their souls.
This is the Season of Lent, commemorated by many Christians, and for forty days we examine the life and teachings of Jesus, leading to His crucifixion and resurrection on Easter Sunday.
The disciple John, in His Gospel (John 20: 24-29), testifies that after Jesus’ death at Calvary, His disciples convened sharing the terrifying dilemma of their own identity, fearing His fate would soon be their own. Resurrected, Jesus Christ lovingly met them where they gathered in hiding. He compassionately offered them the proof of His finished work on their behalf. The Messiah, King, and Savior conveyed through the permanent scars of nail wounds on His hands that He had risen, indeed; death had no hold on Him, and to them He had returned, and to Him they belonged.
The nail marks on His hands and feet declared the undeniable truth that He had died on the Roman cross, was buried in a cold tomb, and on the third day had returned to them to declare His life and for them a new birth was available.
His “tattoo” was excruciating in pain, infinite in cost, and received with love and devotion indescribable. The scars said, “A pivotal moment has come, and a Person has revealed His purpose for all to see and believe. You belong to Me.”
Two thousand years later, this reality transcends mere chronology, and to Him many more belong. The tattoo is not marked on our thin skin but emblazoned on our heart, permanently and eternally. Christ’s influence and power are not marks of ink or scars, but ones of transformation.