Tattoos as Confession: How one pastor engages a culture that speaks in ink

Behind every tattoo is a story — and behind every story is a person longing to be seen, known and loved.

The Rev. John Gullett doesn’t see tattoos as rebellion. He sees them as revelation.

Gullett told me that tattoos often express something deeply personal — like pain, loss, hope or identity — and the person who got the tattoo often is silently hoping someone will ask about it.

“Tattoos are often a confession in search of a confessor,” he says.

Pastors are trained to be confessors — trusted listeners who receive people’s stories without judgment.

But while church attendance has declined over the past several decades, tattoos — often a form of personal confession — have become more common. Today, about one-third of American adults have at least one tattoo. Among the religiously unaffiliated, it’s 41%.

Gullett has found that asking about someone’s ink often opens the door to deeper conversations about life, pain — and sometimes, faith.

His approach is simple: spot the tattoo, offer a compliment, ask if there’s a story behind it. It’s not about small talk — it’s about connection, with the hope of leading people to Christ.

The Rev. John Gullett

A real-time look at tattoo evangelism

Gullett is an Anglican priest, currently leading All Souls Anglican Church in Concord, N.C. It’s his third church plant in his 23 years as a pastor.

I first met him last month when he was a guest preacher at my church, Good Shepherd Anglican Church in nearby Cornelius.

During his sermon, he briefly mentioned having a tattoo ministry. That caught my attention. This week, we sat down over lunch so I could learn more.

Over lunch, Gullett, who has talked to hundreds of people about their tattoos, gave me a real-time lesson in how his tattoo outreach works.

He spotted a tattoo on our waitress’s arm, complimented it, and asked if there was a story behind it. Just as he predicted, she lit up.

On the inside of her left arm were the words “que sera, sera,” which means “whatever will be, will be.”

It’s a reference, the young woman explained, to an episode of her favorite show, “Gilmore Girls,” where the classic Doris Day song “Que Sera, Sera” plays. The tattoo reminded her of the show and of her mother, who used to watch it with her when she was growing up. The tattoo is in the waitress’s own handwriting.

Our waitress’s tattoo.

She went on to share more. She has eight other tattoos, including one on her right leg that reads, “God is good.”

Gullett has one tattoo himself, and he showed it to the waitress. It’s a phoenix, symbolizing rebirth after a hard season in his life. It’s tied to Job 29:18, which in the NRSV Bible reads, “Then I thought, ‘I shall die in my nest, and I shall multiply my days like the phoenix.’”

The mentor behind Gullett’s ministry

Gullett has learned much about tattoo evangelism from Al Dayhoff, a pastor in the Washington, D.C., area who leads Evangelize Today Ministries, is the self-proclaimed Tattoo Story Hunter, and pastors BlueChurch, which meets in a blues bar.

Dayhoff is also the author of several books, including “Tattoos: Telling the Secrets of the Soul,” and is a regular guest at tattoo conventions across the country, where he seeks to engage unchurched people on their own ground.

Dayhoff’s ministry began more than a decade ago, when he was pastoring a growing Presbyterian church. One night in a blues bar, he struck up a conversation with a woman who had multiple tattoos.

She was a therapist who worked with veterans suffering from PTSD. Her 13 tattoos, she explained, represented 13 patients who had died by suicide. She had them inked to honor their memory.

That encounter changed Dayhoff’s ministry focus. He left his Presbyterian church and has since interviewed more than 10,000 people in seven countries about their tattoos.

Seeing the person, not just the tattoo

Gullett says many Americans instinctively judge tattoos — deciding whether they approve of the image or the act of getting inked at all.

But he and Dayhoff encourage a different approach: suspend judgment, ask about the story, and listen.

Gullett shared a few stories of the tattooed people he’s met. Many of the tattoos express grief over death, abuse and addiction. Some celebrate recovery, marriages and the birth of children. Others commemorate parents, grandparents or siblings who have died.

One woman had three flowers inked on her arm — one black, one partially colored, and one in full color. It was a visual metaphor for her journey out of addiction.

Another woman had “K6” tattooed prominently on her neck. Gullett learned she was the sole survivor of a triple murder-suicide.

The “K” was the first initial of her boyfriend, who died that night. The “6” stood for “I’ve got your six” — military slang for “I’ve got your back,” drawn from the clock-face analogy where 6 o’clock is directly behind you.

When a tattoo conversation leads to an ongoing relationship, Gullett makes a point to stay in touch.

“They may never come to my church, but I’m their pastor,” he said. “In evangelism training, they teach you what to say. But people don’t care what I say until they know I see them — and they can trust me.”

In a world where so many feel overlooked, a simple question about a tattoo can open a sacred space.

Gullett’s ministry reminds us that beneath the ink lies a story — and behind every story, a person longing to be seen.

It reminds us of the words of Hagar in Genesis 16, who, after encountering God in the wilderness, declared, “You are the God who sees me.”

That’s what Gullett hopes to offer: not judgment or quick answers, but presence. Because sometimes, the first step toward Christ begins when someone knows they’re truly valued.