Tattoos on the Heart

"I can remember standing outside police tape on an early Sunday morning, just around the block from the church. The body of a gang member was lying on the ground, partially covered with a sheet. His head and upper torso were draped with the sheet, revealing only his oversize, cut-off Dickies shorts, white tube socks pulled up to the knee, and a pair of blue Nike Cortez—all standard-issue gang wear at the time. He wasn’t from the projects, and who knows why he wandered into this foreign turf.

Pam McDuffy, an activist mother in the community, sidled up to me and put her arm around my waist. She was crying. “I don’t know who that kid is, but he was some mother’s son.” Soon gang members began to “kick it” at the church. The garage became a quasi-weight room, and the bell tower always had some ten gang members or so huddled there, smoking cigarettes and passing the time. I figured if they’re at the church, they’re not wreaking havoc in the community. This didn’t thrill all parishioners, and the grumbling reached a pitch that forced me to call a parish meeting.

The parish hall was packed; this would be either a vote of confidence in my leadership or an opportunity for the parishioners to tell me, “Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry.” I didn’t speak. But the “E. F. Huttons” of the community (when they spoke, people tended to listen), Teresa Navarro and Paula Hernandez, needed only to stand and invoke Jesus. “We help gang members at this parish because it is what Jesus would do.” People applauded and the parish never looked back."

Gregory Boyle,  Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion