We'd just finished praying, myself and five other brothers and soldiers for Christ in the Rescued Not Arrested Prison Ministry. We were breaking our prayer circle when we heard the chains rattling down the hall of the Maricopa County 4th Avenue Jail chapel.We stood and watched as four, armed Detention officers led the shackled inmate, Miguel (Michael), in. The room was silent, only the sound of Michael's chains and the sloshing of water in the freshly-filled baptismal. First, I noticed the way the four-manacle handcuffs kept him tightly tethered to the belly-chain secured to his waist. Then I noticed one of his chained hands--tattooed to look like the dead-man's clutch of a skeleton, the corpse-like bones creeping upward into the needled masterwork splaying his forearms in image of the cape-shrouded skeleton Death--a hollow Grim Reaper--scythe and all. He was covered head to toe in such marks. They are badges...marks of political rank and accomplishment that earned him respect and stature in the Mexican Mafia (eMe).
He'd be going back to prison in about a week. Under normal circumstances, he'd be returning to his throne of power—the power and prestige that he'd earned through death and violence as a loyal soldier in the Mexican Mafia: torpedo, assassin, yard leader. Power. Respect. Authority over life and death.
But not this time. This time, he'd be going back with a price on his head. Death threats not only to himself, but to his family had already come. For the rest of his stint in prison, he'd be on 24/7 lock-down. His life for his remaining time here on earth would be under constant jeopardy--all because he'd renounced his life of violence. This once-loyal soldier was now a deserter--a deserter of the eMe army. Penalty for such a crime against la familia: death.
He renounced his life of drawing blood, to a changed life covered in blood--covered in the saving blood of Jesus Christ.
He'd changed his allegiance from the political hierarchy of the Mexican Mafia--to the Heavenly hierarchy of God.
And today, I had the privilege of joining five other men and thousands of angels in Heaven cheer as he made his public proclamation to his loyalty to our Lord and Savior through baptism.
As he carefully stepped up into the baptismal, angels were cheering; Hell's gates were trembling. He shivered and laughed at the ice-cold jailhouse baptismal water. As Rescued Not Arrested Founder Roger Munchian got ready to dunk him under, he attempted to plug his nose, but the tether of the belly chain prevented him from reaching his face with his skeletal-tattooed hand. It was a touching moment, and typical of the love and compassion Roger has in his heart, as Roger gently held Michael's nose for him, saying the words "I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."
He came back up out of the water smiling from ear-to-ear. A changed life. A newly-commissioned soldier in the mighty army of Jesus Christ. Welcome to the ranks of righteousness, Michael. It is going to be an honor to serve alongside you.
