“On Pentecost and Tattoos”

Acts 2:1-21

June 5, 2022 – Pentecost Sunday

“…at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?And how is it that…in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power?’”(Selected verses from Acts 2, NRSV)

“You’re the coolest minister I’ve ever met.” 

So said Jordan, the tattoo artist who gave me my first ever (and so far, only…) tattoo, just over a year ago, at Talisman BodyArt in Santa Fe. 

To honor the struggle that Sarah–and she and I together–had been through in, at that point, the previous eighteen months, and the commitment we both have to her full recovery, she had invited me to join her in getting a tattoo that she had designed, based on the logo for the National Eating Disorders Association. 

In spite of my very real fear that the pain of getting a tattoo would be excruciating and I would not be able to keep myself from either screaming, or sobbing, or passing out, or all of those things, or in some other totally unexpected way, completely embarrassing myself, I felt honored by her invitation and agreed. 

So we chose a day–May 15, 2021–and Sarah made an appointment; and on that morning off we went to Santa Fe, to Talisman BodyArt on Cerrillos Drive. 

Once we got there, I decided to go first. “I’m ready! Let’s do this!” I said to Jordan with completely false bravado. The truth was, I knew that if I watched Sarah getting hers before I got mine, I might very well chicken out and bolt, never to return again! And I really did want to do it. 

Jordan was a lovely young woman who, as it turned out, had grown up in Los Alamos. When she found out she would be giving me my first tattoo, she quickly put me at ease, making light conversation while she sat me down in the chair and walked me through the process. 

When she was ready to start the actual tattooing, Jordan told me she would do one small section and then check to see how I was doing. I had, of course, shared my fear and dread with her! I told her I was ready, and looked away, looking instead at Sarah, who was sitting on the other side of me. She smiled at me, and I smiled back, putting on a brave face and bracing myself for the pain. And then Jordan began.

I waited for a moment as the tattoo pen she was using whirred…and then I looked at her and said, “That’s it??” I was feeling some tiny pricks on my arm but nothing nearly as excruciating as I had expected! Jordan smiled and said, “Yep.” And with a mixture of pride and profound relief, I exclaimed, “I’ve had three babies with no anesthesia! This is nothing!” 🙂 

As she worked, Jordan chatted with Sarah and me, cheerfully answering the questions I asked her about growing up in Los Alamos, about other art she enjoys, about her work, etc. And at one point, there was a lull in the conversation, and she asked me, “So what do you do?” 

I looked at Sarah, and we both laughed. And I looked back at Jordan and said, “I’m a pastor.” 

Jordan: “Really?!?!?” 

Me: “Really.” 

Jordan: “Wow! That’s cool!”

Sarah: “Have you ever tattooed a minister before?”

Jordan: “I’m pretty sure I have not! But that’s so cool! I’ll be able to brag to my friends about this!” Pause… “You’re definitely the coolest minister I’ve ever met.” 

By the time we left, Sarah and I had deeply meaningful tattoos. And a very memorable shared experience. And I can’t help but think–or at least hope–that Jordan remembers it, too. 

I can’t say with any certainty, of course, but I hope she remembers it as a time when a minister-mom broke some stereotypes–leaving judgment at the door and offering acceptance instead, stepping away from any condemnation and stepping into her world with curiosity, extending kindness and respect along with her arm. 

We weren’t in a church building, but the space we inhabited together in that tattoo shop felt holy. God was present in that place.

We didn’t speak in church-y words, but the words that we exchanged expressed respect and dignity and acceptance and curiosity, and felt holy. God was present in those words. 

God was there, at Talisman BodyArt that day–just as God is there every day, and just as God is present in every other place–every other place–every day! 

God is present everywhere, every day, within us and around us and between us–and by “us” I do mean every person. And God waits for us to recognize God’s presence, longs for us to acknowledge it, and calls us to live within it…

I think that’s part of the message of Pentecost, stemming from what happened on that day so long ago when “suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where [the disciples] were sitting. [And] Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. [And] All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” (Acts 2:2-4)

The reality of the Presence of God in the midst of everyday life, in and for and in the midst of all people everywhere, became visible to all who were gathered. 

God is present everywhere, every day, within us and around us and between us–and by “us” I do mean every person,and by “everywhere” I do mean all places. And God waits for us to recognize God’s presence, longs for us to acknowledge it, and calls us to live within it…

I think that’s part of the message of Pentecost, stemming from what happened on that day–the reality of the Presence of God became visible to all who were gathered, and the challenge of acknowledging that reality, and interpreting that reality, and sharing that reality, became real. 

And not just in church buildings but in all places–because God is not contained in church buildings but is present everywhere. 

And not just in words that church folks can understand but in languages all people can understand– because God is not contained by church-y language, but is present in all language that offers belonging and acceptance, curiosity and dignity, healing and new life, forgiveness and love. 

Back to Jordan for a minute–maybe, just maybe, through our interactions that day, she saw and heard something, on some level, of the reality of God, not in a church building or in church-y words, but in a place and in a language she understood… 

God is present everywhere, every day, within us and around us and between us–and by “us” I do mean every person and by “everywhere” I do mean all places… 

On this Pentecost Sunday, may we be reminded of the invitation we’ve all received to first recognize and acknowledge, and then interpret and share that reality–the reality of the Presence, and Power and Love, of God in the midst of all of life.

Amen.