Frank Bosman, "Francis' Tattoos: Being Marked in the Bible, Tradition, and Modernity", in: Franciscaans Leven 107 (2024) (translated for Franciscan Connections).
Scratch deep wounds into my soul / But never truly found happiness / Haunted by the past / Yes, far too many problems / Too often hiding myself / No longer even willing to fight / Alienated from this world (...) / I must now give myself a chance / But I remain marked for life — (André Hazes Jr., 2020)
Marked by life, marked for life. Dutch singer André Hazes proclaims: a "scratch on my soul" and "deep wounds," "haunted by the past," "I remain marked for life." Some wounds are too deep to ever heal, not even by time. The death of a child, a severe illness, deep depression, a violent robbery—these stay with you as long as you live; you are marked for life. Intriguingly enough, that same André Hazes Jr. presented the SBS 6 show Marked by Life in 2020. In the show, Hazes follows a group of people who regret a tattoo they got earlier and desperately want to get rid of it. In the Dutch magazine Linda, Hazes says:
"There is a boy, Mitchell, who lost his father at a young age and, due to circumstances, went down the wrong path. He did things to fit in: robberies, thefts... You can see it all on his body, like the tattoo of a gun under his eye. I knew early on what I wanted and what I was going to do with my life. So, when I see a boy like that, I realize how lucky I’ve been."
Tattoos also mark you for life, as they are usually permanent. (And if you really want to get rid of them, it’s an extremely painful process: the tattooed skin is literally burned off.) The people in the SBS 6 show are ashamed of their voluntary body art, can’t get a job, or feel judged by others. Not every tattoo is of the same quality, not every spot on your body is practical, and the stigma of criminals, sailors, and sex workers hasn’t completely disappeared.
The reasons people get tattoos are varied: it’s a form of self-expression (“this is who I am!”), it can have strong symbolic or biographical meaning (“this tattoo represents overcoming cancer”), it can have strong aesthetic motivations (“this tattoo is simply beautiful!”), or it can still be a sign of rebellion against societal norms. However, the latter is changing rapidly, as tattoos are becoming more accepted.
The participants in the show feel stigmatized, but by their own choice: no one forces you to get a permanent tattoo. Others feel stigmatized too, but without much control over it: they speak differently, act differently, love the “wrong” gender, or have been labelled a “problem case.” Society rejects them because they are different from what is “normal,” and they are therefore deemed worthy of ridicule, mockery, and exclusion.
The Bible: From Cain to the Beast
As a theologian, it is natural for me to turn to the Bible and look at people and groups who also received marks on their bodies, whether voluntarily or not. Not because there’s no world outside the Bible, but because in our favorite book, we encounter God’s colorful array of oddities. When Cain commits the first murder in human history by killing his brother Abel, God punishes him with a life of wandering on the earth. Cain fears revenge, but God marks him with a sign to protect him (Genesis 4:15).
Generations later, God and Abraham form a covenant, sealed by the circumcision of every male (Genesis 17:10). And when Jacob wrestles with God by the Jabbok River, God strikes him below the belt, causing him to limp for the rest of his life (Genesis 32:26). Further in the Bible, a nameless writer is commanded by God to mark everyone in Jerusalem who mourns the city's sinfulness (Ezekiel 9:4). As God's avenging angels decimate the city's inhabitants, they spare those marked (9:6).
In the New Testament, we encounter the famous five wounds of the risen Christ in the well-known story of "Doubting" Thomas (who wasn’t really that doubtful, by the way). Jesus invites Thomas to put his fingers into his hands, feet, and side to confirm that it was indeed the "real" Jesus and not a ghost or hallucination (John 20:24-29). The wounds serve here as proof of the resurrection. Paul also speaks of his own "scars" (stigmata in Greek), which he claims to have received during heated discussions with fellow believers about Jesus Christ: “Let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus” (Galatians 6:17). And later:
"Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, bandits, my fellow Jews, and Gentiles; in danger in the city, in the country, at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked." (2 Corinthians 11:24-27)
In the Book of Revelation, we find two opposing forces, both marking their followers with a sign so they can be distinguished. On one side is the "mark of the Beast"—666—on the right hand or forehead of all who worship this false god (Revelation 13:7). On the other side are God’s faithful, marked by four angels and thus spared from destruction (7:1-8).
Stigmata: From Francis to Padre Pio
Another way of being marked for life comes from the mystical tradition: stigmata. As with any good Christian tradition, someone has to start it—in this case, Francis of Assisi. During the 40-day fasting period before the feast of St. Michael (on September 29), Francis received a vision on September 13, 1224, not coincidentally the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. A crucified seraph appeared—a six-winged angel with a cross on its back—and pressed the five wounds of Christ into Francis’s body. Whether Francis was pleased with this “grace” is unclear; he never spoke about it. He tried to hide the wounds under bandages and clothing, as they never healed but remained “open.” His followers, the Franciscans, tell us that their founder wanted to become as much like Christ as possible, and this was finally achieved.
Other mystics followed Francis. In 1375, St. Catherine of Siena received stigmata, but according to tradition, they were only visible to her. Like Francis, she apparently did not wish to flaunt the wounds. St. Rita of Cascia received a wound on her forehead, said to be a thorn from Christ’s crown, around 1440 after meditating deeply before the crucifix. More modern examples include Therese Neumann (died 1962) and Padre Pio (died 1968), both of whom bore the five wounds. The supernatural origin of stigmata is challenged by advancing medical science, a luxury medieval saints could not afford.
Hollywood has shown a strong interest in the phenomenon of stigmata. Several films have been made on the subject, often based on older stories. The film Agnes of God (1985) is based on a play by the same name (1979) by John Pielmeier, inspired by Sister Maureen Murphy, a 36-year-old teacher from Brighton, New York, who was said to have killed her newborn child. Talk about being marked. And in 2021, Paul Verhoeven directed the film Benedetta, loosely based on the book Immodest Acts: The Life of a Lesbian Nun in Renaissance Italy (1985) by Judith Brown, which was based on the life of the historical nun Benedetta Carlini (died 1661). In both cases—Agnes of God and Benedetta—stigmata are used to emphasize the deep spiritual dimension and psychological struggles of the two women.
Indelible Mark
In Catholic sacramental theology, we also find a kind of "marking." Three of the seven sacraments carry a character indelebilis, an "indelible mark," invisible yet permanent. Baptism, confirmation, and holy orders imprint this mark. These three sacraments are, in principle, unrepeatable: you can only receive them once in a lifetime. No one can see it, but your life is permanently marked in a religious sense—you are a different person before and after receiving these sacraments. This presents a theological problem with the idea of “debaptism.” When some people wanted to be debaptized in protest against the scandal of sexual abuse in pastoral relationships, they were told it was impossible. You can remove yourself from the church’s membership records, but you cannot “take back” a sacrament, even if you wanted to. Once marked, always marked.
Of course, tattoos, stigmata, biblical and sacramental marks are a matter of voluntariness: no one forces you to get a tattoo, and ideally, no one has forced you into priestly ordination. (With baptism, it's more complicated, as usually the parents decide for the child to be baptized. But then again, parents also choose for you to eat with a knife and fork or to learn to speak Dutch, even though you never had the chance to consent to that.) However, there are unfortunately also involuntary marks. Think of the gruesome practice of literally branding people as someone’s property—the slaves of the Western colonies. Or consider the tattooing of serial numbers on the arms of prisoners in Nazi concentration camps.
What matters is that sometimes we are marked, and sometimes we choose to mark ourselves. Sometimes we are happy with it and look forward to it. Sometimes we later regret it or it was never our own choice. Some of these marks can be removed—though that requires pain and determination—while others remain a lifelong scar. Some remind us of a previous life that we sometimes prefer to forget, and sometimes do not. They remind us of the path our life has taken, all the pitfalls, all the peaks, all the stones included. They remind us of God, who created us. They remind us of God, who redeemed us in his wounds. And we contribute to this, both to the wounds and to bearing them. It is no coincidence that the confessor prays with his penitent: "The good that you will do and the suffering that you will bear, may it be for you the forgiveness of sins and for the attainment of eternal life."
Be marked. Be blessed.
Further reading:
- Michael Atkinson, Tattooed. The Sociogenesis of Body Art (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003).
- Karin Beeler, Tattoos, Desire and Violence (Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2006).
- Frank Bosman, “Nee raak me niet aan. Een verkenning naar Johannes’ ongelovige Thomas in Bijbel en apocriefen,” in Marc De Kesel en Ad de Keyzer (ed.), Oog in oog met de wond. Essays over Tomas, kunst & pijn (Kampen: Van Warven, 2023), 145-168.
- Roy Clermons, “‘Under my skin’. Het fenomeen tatoeage bezien vanuit GV-perspectief,” Tijdschrift voor Geestelijke Verzorging 27 (2024), 21-30.
- Jeanne Nagle, Why People Get Tattoos and Other Body Art (New York: The Rosen Publishing Group, 2012).