I have been working with 'homeboys' - from both of El Salvador's main rival gans - in Salvadoran prisons, for the past 12 years.

At first this was by chance, as they were mixed in with the general prison population, and often would join the programs our ministry offered.

In recent years, especially as prisons have been designated exclusively for one gang or the other, our focus has shifted to working quite intentionally with them.

This focus sometimes yields great insights. I found the irony of one recent prison encounter particularly revealing.

On World AIDS Day, December 1, far removed from the massive marches which typically commemorate this significant day around the globe - and well-hidden from the media cameras which are now eager to sell this lucrative message taken on by politicians, personalities and plutocrats - we had our regular day with 20 gang-member inmates at a prison in small-town El Salvador.

Prior to the session, an inmate who regularly chats with me - a non-gang member, living with HIV - came for our regular conversation. He hung around for much of the session, listening from the doorway. Toward the end, he asked permission to tell his story to the gang-member inmates gathered. "Of course," I told him.

The popular Salvadoran Mass says: "When the poor announce to the poor the hope that God gave us, God's reign is born among us."

Who could be 'poorer' than a marginalized prisoner living with HIV, entrusting his vulnerability to much-vilified gang-members? How could the wealthy and powerful 'owners' of El Salvador ever grasp that a group of gang members had inspired the confidence of this non-gangster living with HIV? For me, this was truly an Advent proclamation - evidence of God's reign, in our midst. Ê

A typical North American missionary mindset might presume that a pastor from Canada would be the one bringing Jesus to these boys. But I began my ministry expecting the reverse to happen - and I have not been disappointed. Ê

What most inspires me is witnessing Christ's presence in these unlikeliest of places, witnessing Christ in these unlikeliest of people . . . unlikely, at least, in the judgment of the self-righteous.

They haven't always acted in Christ-like ways. Many are indeed criminals. But I believe they would have been among those on the edge, whom Jesus would have sought in his earthly ministry. Then, as now, they - the 'damned' - are often the ones most responsive to God's love, and most aware of his faithful presence.

This is so unlike the image they have in countless media reports - an image which is used to vilify and demonize them, to raise the level of fear amongst the population, and to win election votes.

Much has been written about the violence which characterizes these gangs - sometimes dumping all the blame on them, other times justifying their lifestyles by citing factors which have driven them to violence.

But the home-boys I've known are sociable, intelligent and articulate, gentle and even affectionate. They comprise a closely-knit family, demonstrating impressive levels of solidarity and discipline.

One of the gangs has developed a strong organization within their prison, providing members with an array of opportunities involving computer training, music, drama, clowning, script-writing and library facilities.

They are also very hospitable. In spite of what might initially be an unnerving adventure - first-time immersion in a prison setting, surrounded by heavily tattooed torsos and faces - visitors are invariably impacted in positive ways.

Our aim is not to get these young men to leave their gangs. That is a personal option which some have chosen, and others may be considering. But it is one which exposes them to considerable risk, as they forfeit the protection of their own gang - while facing threats of possible reprisals, and the ongoing aggression of rival gangs, the police and various sectors of society. Ê

Our vision is rather to 're-humanize' these children of God whom society - especially the government, the media and the police - has dehumanized. Society could benefit from who they are, what they have experienced in life, and what they have to contribute - by listening to them, and putting their talents and experiences to use. Ê

Following the news media's focus on the violence of their lives, one would not get the impression that faith could be much of an element in the lives of these men. But close contact with them reveals a surprisingly different reality.

In one of the gang-prisons, the walls of the multi-use area are painted with religious murals. One is a large, agonizing face of Jesus impaled with a crown of thorns. Another shows Jesus nailed to the cross between two criminals. In another prison, the wall at the end of the soccer field is adorned with a nativity scene.

Tattoos of crucifixes and the Virgin of Guadalupe are common, as are phrases such as Dios es Amor ('God is Love'). One inmate has Jesœs es mi Pastor ('Jesus is my Shepherd') tattooed across his muscular chest.

In group discussions - which focus on issues such as addiction, machismo, sexuality and violence, rather than spirituality or religion - biblical and faith themes often come up spontaneously. Many are eager to tell of their faith-journeys, and to encourage others in their own.

Some immerse themselves in the worship and biblical study programs which thrive in each prison, whether they be Roman Catholic or evangelical/Pentecostal. Giving one's life for another is a Christian mandate they take quite seriously. Many of their compadres have done no less for them. Their bodies and their living-spaces are ongoing commemorations to their self-sacrificing companions. Ê

Life for many gang-members has been one of abandonment - by family, church and society. Jesus is the one they can count on not to abandon them. Many often sense Jesus' spirit among them.

I, too, have sensed Christ's spirit with them. Thus my mission, perhaps more than taking our Canadian Christ to them, is to bring their homeboy Jesus back to my compatriots in Canada.

Together, we are members of the same body of Christ.

Brian Rude, affiliated with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada, is based in San Salvador.

Mission Fields Spring 2007