Two years ago Kent and I met a guy, I'll call him J, in one of the gang prisons we visited. Kent, especially, spent quite a bit of time talking with him as he was trying to learn English and, at the time, knew just about as much English as Kent knew of Spanish (which, if you know Kent, is not very much.) :) I spoke with him, too, and deeply appreciated his sense of humor, his smile and his attentiveness to any groups who visited the prison to talk about God and the Bible. He would crouch down along one of the sides of the prison and, with a look of stern concentration on his face, would listen to all that was being said.
Last year when I went back to Guatemala and returned to that prison, I saw him again. He was glad to see me and asked where Kent was. He had stopped trying to learn English because it was too difficult with no resources in the prison as well as having very few (almost no) guys in the prison that speak English to attempt to learn it. On a happier note, though, he proudly told me about the birth of his new baby girl - 8 days old. You could see in his smile that he was happy and proud, yet had a bit of sadness as he couldn't be closer to her or spend more time with her.
Once our little service-type-thing started (by the members of our church), J once again crouched down and listened with great concentration. His heart was definitely softening.
I heard sometime after I had returned home to the States that he had been released from prison. Good, right? Wrong. The police found him and started beating him. They almost beat him to death until a woman happened upon them, screamed, and the cops left, leaving J there almost dead, but not forgetting to plant drugs on him so it looked like he deserved the beating and jail. After he got out of the hospital, back to jail he went.
This trip, I was really excited to see J again - to ask him about his daughter - excited for him and Kent to reunite after almost two years. I asked one of his homies if J was still there and he said, "No - he's dead. He was killed three months ago by the police." My heart stood still. I felt the blood drain from my face. Complete shock. No - not J.
No - not J.Right then I wanted to slump down to the floor and weep, but we had just arrived. I had to go on 'autopilot' mode for a while first.
For the most part I enjoyed my visit to see the guys. It was good to see familiar faces again. I was pleased when one of them said, "So you decided to come back yet again? We're glad."
This prison should fit around 100-150 guys. Currently there are close to 300 guys in this place. There are not even enough beds for them to sleep on, so they overflow into the main visiting area at night. There is no space. These guys are basically treated as animals. No matter what crimes a person has committed, no one deserves to be treated like an animal...maybe that's why they do the things they do in the first place....
After about two or so hours, we left. I talked with Joel VD about what had happened to J. He said, "J was sitting on his couch watching TV with his brother when two police officers broke in and blew their heads off."
....?!?!
Why, God? What's going to happen to his baby girl? Where is the hope for her? Where is the justice for him? Will the cycle of poverty, violence and injustice ever end?
Where is the hope for Guatemala...when Guatemala's own "justice" system is really an
injustice system...?!?
I feel anger for what happened to J. I wept that night...bitter tears...tears of lament. I lament that things are not the way they should be. I lament that a society thrives on beating down those who have already been beaten down by life...a society that does nothing to help people out of their hopeless situations - even when they are trying to get out - but seems to do everything to keep them there...a society where 96% of crimes go untried because either:
(A.) They happen in places like La Limonada where no one wants to step foot because, to them, those people are better off dead than alive or
(B.) They involve people (like gang members) who, in their eyes, are no more valuable than garbage or feces - if all of them were dead, society would be much healthier and would have a chance to prosper. A proper social cleansing would do the trick.
I know that our God is a God of justice and that what happened to J was seen by him...but what about his earthly justice? What about justice for his brother...? For his family members left behind...? For his baby girl who, earthly speaking, doesn't have a whole lot of hope to cling to for a better life...?
J's story needs to be told. His story needs to be told because his story represents the stories of millions of people just like him - perhaps with different backgrounds, from different countries...but who have experienced the same outcome.
