Tattoos Be Gone

Sitting, cleaning, (called erasing) a dozen or so vintage typeset blocks the other day of decades old dry ink I remembered reading about Father Greg Boyle.  He has been awarded the distinguished Laetare Medal from the University of Notre Dame. He's a Jesuit Priest who is the founder and director of "Homeboy Industries" in East Los Angeles. Among the vast accomplishments of this exceptional entrepreneurial ministry I was blown away by Father Boyle's putting together a team of physicians trained in the laser technology of tattoo removal. I just never imagined that a preacher might see such an open door and walk through it. This team is part of a program that takes the tattoos of ex-gang members and wipes the slate clean. For many, it is as crucial a ministry as it is merciful.
The piece I was reading confirmed what Bettyann had just mentioned to me, not long before, when seeing a man and woman with tattoos covering most of their exposed bodies: "I imagine they would find it difficult to find employment in the public sector.." My knee jerk response was: "I can't imagine which of our clients would smile when coming into their home." The Gang-related tattoos prevent many former gang members from getting jobs or advancing in work. For others, the markings critically impinge on mental health or put them in serious danger on the streets. There is no fee required to receive the tattoo removal offered by Homeboy Industries. It is strictly a gift—a gift that is perhaps a modern look at Christ washing the feet of his friends. Currently, there is a waiting list of over a thousand names.

I can understand how those involved, might have a compelling spiritual imagery. The seeming permanence of a gang tattoo fosters the attitude that the gang's claim is also permanent. It is a mark of ownership as much as identity. The emotional consequence is that it seems a part of a person that can never be shaken. I suspect in like manner the young attractive lady who served us lunch awhile back had the same emotional ties. In answer to my asking what was written on her arm, she said: "My grandmother who died last year loved me more than anyone ever has. She always called me her sunshine.  I will never forget her and will carry her with me the rest of my life. I see her everyday and will never forget her." On the other hand my takeaway from the story I read was that most of the gang members look at these makings, words, pictures as past mistakes, actions whose mark they cannot shake off, decisions embedded into their existence - permanent tattoos on bodies longing to forget.

It's becoming more and more clear to me to see how profound the erasing of such marks could be in the life of a former gang member. Is it because I've experienced my life as marked by Christ as similarly altered? Like former gang members who have had the marks of a former life removed, so my sins are blotted out by Christ. They are remembered no longer.

All to well do I know, as one holding on to the scarred markings of former sin, God says: "I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more." I find that in Isaiah 43:25. Though my sins are as scarlet, they shall be white as snow. Like the unmarked ex-gang members, I am made into something new.

One of my most insightful and curious things about the growing list of people interested in laser tattoo removal is that Father Boyle is straightforward about the procedure. He says the process of tattoo removal is extremely painful. Patients describe the laser procedure as feeling like hot grease on their skin. And yet the list grows, each name representing a life that longs to be free and is willing to endure the pain to seize it.

I no longer sit and contemplate, after following the lives of followers of the Faith over the centuries and fellow sojourners, that  God's work in my life is the "refiner's fire." Removing the impurities I have embedded into my life is at times quite uncomfortable. I'm reminded when Clair, a couple of years ago, trusting Michelle only, enough to endure the pain of having a thorn removed.  Papa could not operate. She had to be freed by the hands of her mother.  The pain of removal was the same. But covered over by soft, skilled hands. A soothing voice, embraces that reassured and tissue to dry the eyes. The Great Physician is more often than not, a surgeon. But when I look at God through the refining fires of God's presence, I know that it was well worth putting my name on the list (whether it was my doing or God's in the first place).

Father, God, I thankful for the fact: "For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is Your love for me as I reverence You; as far as the east is from the west, so far have You removed my transgressions from me." At Your table, I am made new. Amen