The Unconventional Worshipper: How Tattoos at the Altar Challenged a Churchgoer’s Tradition

By the time the final hymn ended and people began gathering their things, I had convinced myself it was my responsibility to protect the atmosphere of our sanctuary. I told myself I was acting out of love for the church. For God.

I waited near the aisle as she stood. She looked around again, perhaps searching for a familiar face. She seemed alone.

I approached her with a polite smile.

“Good morning,” I said, keeping my voice calm and measured.

She smiled back. “Good morning.”