A Catholic’s Guide to Getting a Tattoo

I’m sitting at the tattoo parlor, waiting while my husband sits in the chair. There’s a slow, casual conversation: life, kids, art, homesteading – punctured by long pauses and the low buzz of the ink gun. The room itself is bright and clean, with windows and lights. Well-inked sketches hang on the walls. Johnny Cash is playing in the background and across the room another socially distancing client is watching roses bloom in full color on her forearm.

If you’ve never stepped into a tattoo studio, this set-up is a common one. Despite the reputation artists have for working out of dimly-lit biker dens, most artists create in clean, brightly lit shops where clients feel comfortable, safe, and welcomed. When I went for my first tattoo as an eager 18-year old though, the whole culture seemed strange; an uncertain fit with my deep faith.

Catholic Ink

As far as I knew, no one at my childhood church was tattooed. Some even considered it a sin; but I was convinced that good art was an inherent Good – something to embrace and cultivate. My body is a temple, after all, and I’d rather it resemble St. Peter’s Basilica than the local kingdom hall.

At the same time, I took my faith seriously enough to consult a priest before booking my first appointment. We talked about the unspecified position of body art within Church teaching, the types of tattoos that would obviously be forbidden (anything intentionally ugly, symbols with occult or satanic meanings, and disrespectful images), as well as the way some tattoos can act as a declaration of faith.

In the years since the first tattoo, my art has certainly inspired some great conversations. In the grocery store, after Mass, and even with my children, my tattoos encourage people to look, reflect, and ask questions.

Art at Mass

Depending on where and how you worship, your parish might be filled with tattooed Catholics, or there may be no visible ink in the pews. West-coast and northeastern American cities seem to draw more than their share. Traditional Latin Mass parishes especially seem to draw those of us with an obvious abundance of ink – that may be because heavily tattooed Catholics tend to obsess over beauty and go to extremes for it. Despite the swirling flowers, soaring crows, and poetic text, I’m rarely the most heavily tattooed attendant at any given Latin Mass.

If you attend a Novus Ordo Mass, especially in the south or Midwest, you may see fewer, smaller tattoos. Millennial Catholics in these churches tend to go for smaller, minimalist designs that are easy to hide; or single, statement images.

There’s nothing wrong with either of these approaches, like the Church Herself, there’s room for a world of variety here!

But, if you’re a Catholic considering your first (or first in a long while) tattoo, there are a few things to keep in mind.

Humility

Your tattoo won’t make you any cooler than you already are. A lot of Catholic influencers like to mention their tattoos as if they’re a badge. You’ll see “that funky Catholic mom” emphasizing her tattoos, brightly colored hair, or boho style as the way she stands out. Too often, it’s just another way of saying “I’m not like other Catholics.”

But don’t be fooled. When you look around at all those other Catholics, you’ll find saints and sinners, and everything in between. Focus on your own relationship with God, and avoid competitive Catholicism. If your tattoo makes you look at yourself differently, start praying the Jesus prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

Art

In this art form, remember that you’re the canvas. The living, breathing temple adorned with mosaics. It’s not your artwork though; instead, you’re doing what the Church has done since her beginning – inspiring, nourishing, and supporting the arts.

This means that when people ask, share your artist’s information. Don’t brag about your tattoos without giving proper credit to the artist and take care of your temple. Too often, people share pictures of their tattoos with no indication at all that this is someone else’s artwork. The Church is the mother of artists, and Catholics have a duty toward the artists they work with, whether those artists paint, compose, write, or tattoo. If you believe tattooing is an art form, you should respect and support your artist; if you don’t, you shouldn’t be getting a tattoo.

Symbolism

Even if you’ve read Meditations on the Tarot or some similar work, certain designs are just inappropriate for Catholics at this time. Occult images, tarot cards, and upside-down crosses have a lot of baggage. Some, like satanic images are obvious, but others can feel more like a gray area. Maybe that tarot card represents something Christological to you? Maybe that inverted cross indicates a deep love of St. Peter to you? But remember that art is never completely subjective. It’s always a public act, no matter how hidden it is.

The fact is, engraving an image onto your flesh carries with it some serious responsibility. You can’t just choose the image that works subjectively for you and call it acceptable as a Catholic. So choose wisely. We have an abundance of dark images to work with if you’re going for the dark-and-edgy look. But never sacrifice your faith for style. “Your body should be an Alleluia from head to foot,” as St. Augustine is sometimes quoted as saying. Make that Alleluia clear, not mumbled and uncertain.

Confidence

Don’t get defensive. Some Catholics consider tattoos ugly and inappropriate. Some consider them sinful. The Church has not made a dogmatic statement on body art; so you’re both entitled to your opinions. If the critique of your fellow parishioners makes you defensive and angry, you may not be ready to get a tattoo. Spend some time trying to understand why you’re feeling defensive. Maybe you’re not sure they’re appropriate either? Maybe you’re just looking for a way to stand out from the crowd?

If the thought of other people’s judgment distracts you, talk to your priest, and take some time to consider. You may be surprised at the responses of the people whose judgement you’re expecting. Most people don’t actually care much about your adornments. But never get any artwork, or change your style to spite anyone.

Beautiful Body Art

After all those caveats, what do I love about tattoos? Why is a 37-year-old, devout Catholic wife and mother waiting for her chance to get a little more ink?

Bodies mean something. Our bodies each tell a story. Throughout the history of man, paint and ink have been used to help tell that story. Through my tattoos, I allow my body to tell more of the story of Christ’s work in my life. Poppies, poetry, herbs, and beautiful crows abound in my body art. If you ask me, I’ll happily share a bit of symbolism for each part of the whole.

Like stained glass windows or frescos in a basilica, my artwork acts as a living lesson. A living introduction to the life God has helped me shape.

Leviticus 19:28?

Do not lacerate your bodies for the dead, and do not tattoo yourselves. I am the LORD. (Leviticus 19:28)

It sounds pretty damning, doesn’t it? Before I scheduled my first tattoo, I brought this Scripture to my priest. We read the entire paragraph together:

Do not eat meat with the blood still in it. Do not practice divination or soothsaying. Do not clip your hair at the temples, nor trim the edges of your beard. Do not lacerate your bodies for the dead, and do not tattoo yourselves. I am the LORD. (Leviticus 19:26–28)

Leviticus is now one of my favorite books. Hearing it read aloud on winter evenings by my husband who loves the Lord’s attention to detail and clarity of speech is a joy. I do take this rigorous book seriously.

To me, it seems clear. Like meat with blood in it and specific hairstyles, the cutting of the flesh and the engraving of marks in skin can form an essential part of witchcraft. It did form an essential part of Canaanite witchcraft and religion. As God sent His people into this country of dark magic and dangerous practices, He kept them removed from it by forbidding the signs and symbols of those practices.

Clarity

Since the Resurrection, God has renewed His law against witchcraft and augury. He has not renewed the ban on flesh with blood or cutting the hair at the temples or the trimming of the beard. Nor has He renewed the law against tattoos. Those seem to be tied, in this case, specifically to their use in witchcraft. Because of that, I’m comfortable in my little chair, watching the artist add blue to the octopus on my husband’s arm, waiting for him to brighten my Russian Firebird with reds, oranges, and yellows, or add another tiny crow to my collection.