Love, Limits, and Nose Rings

by Bronwyn Lea

Sophia is the Greek word for Wisdom, and Propel Sophia seeks out the voices of truly wise women and asks them to share worked examples of how they express faith in daily life. Pull up a chair at Sophia’s table, won’t you? There’s plenty of space. Learn more here.

I have wanted a nose ring for more than 20 years: a little diamond-y stud, a twinkle beneath my eye. It’s been more than 20 years now and my nose is still—somewhat disappointingly—stud free. Someone recently asked me why I didn’t just go for it, which in turn needed clarification – why didn’t I do it then? Or why don’t I do it now?

Here’s why I didn’t do it then. Because I was twenty-six, and newly appointed to minister to women in our little city church. I was leading three Bible studies at the time: one was mostly of friends and peers, who would no doubt have helped me find the sparkliest stud and the best tattoo parlor to get it done. But then there were the other two groups: one Bible study for working women in a high rise investment bank building downtown, where we would gather at 7am with breakfast in to-go bags as we read the gospel of Mark together. I was already an outlier in that very professional environment, and adding a visible piercing would create distance rather than close it between me and the women I was hoping to reach. The third group was a multi-generational group with some amazing women 50 years my senior. I was tasked with teaching women the Bible: the younger teaching the older, and the glaring gap between that situation and Titus 2 was not lost on me. Nose rings were beautiful to women of my generation, but not to my grandma’s. I didn’t want to antagonize the generation gap.

I didn’t get the piercing.

“Be all things to all people, in order that you may win some,” said Paul in 1 Corinthians 10:21, a principle he meant us to embody, as he showed when he insisted that young Timothy be circumcised (Acts 16:3). Everyone knew Timothy’s father was a Greek, and as such, circumcision wouldn’t have been their cultural norm. But hanging out with the “uncircumcised” was still a barrier for many Jews, and so before Timothy could effectively do ministry among the Jews, it was important to remove any obstacles (so to speak). Of course, Timothy didn’t have to do this (and in Titus’ case, it would have been unwise to make the same choice – see Galatians 2:3-5), but the takeaway principle for me as I dreamed about nose rings was this: my personal choices about my body have ministry impacts. “Offer your bodies to God as instruments of righteousness,” instructs Romans 6:13. Strange as it may seem, offering God my nose and releasing my desire (and my right) to get a piercing if I wanted it, seemed to be a sacrifice worth making.

I’m in my forties now, and in truth, I still want a nose ring. “So why don’t you get one now?” asked my friend. And while the reasons are different now, they have the same root. I don’t think a nose ring would cause anyone to bat an eyelid now in my ministry context. Nose rings are now about as common as earrings (which I’d always had), and there would be no danger of causing offense or being unprofessional in ways that would keep me from connecting with people for Jesus’ sake.

But these days, I have a husband, and we pledged on our wedding day that his body is no longer just his own, but mine. And my body is no longer my own, but his (1 Corinthians 7:4). And he—who looks at and loves my face more than any other—really would rather I didn’t have a stud in it. He isn’t insisting on it. He isn’t controlling. But my personal choices about my body still impact others, and so as much as I would love a nose ring, I still don’t have one. My body holds my soul alone, and yet it is also solely mine to offer in love to others. Love is not a concept or even a behavior, it is lived out in actions done by and with my body. Love has skin in the game. And in my case, stud-free skin.

Maybe one day in glory, God will let me have a nose ring. Maybe I won’t want one anymore then. But for now – love calls me to limit my facial sparkle to twinkles of the eye.

Bronwyn Lea

Bronwyn Lea is an author, speaker, activist, and most recently, editorial curator for Propel Sophia. She loves Jesus, puns, her home country of South Africa, her adopted country of the US, her endlessly patient husband, her three goofy kids, wisdom and justice, seeing women thrive in the Kingdom, and quality ice-cream (in no particular order). Find her online on the web, and follow on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.