When the police in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, seize packages of cocaine and bundles of marijuana, they may have a religious symbol on them - the Star of David.
However, this does not refer to Judaism, but to the belief of some Pentecostal Christian groups that the return of the Jews to Israel will lead to the second coming of Christ.
Pentecostalism is one of the Protestant religious groups in Christianity that emphasizes direct personal experience with God through baptism in the Holy Spirit.
The gang that sells drugs with this label is the Real Third Command (the Pure Third Command), one of the most powerful criminal groups in Rio, whose members are fanatical evangelicals and known for eliminating opponents.
They took control of a group of five favelas in the north of the city, now known as the Israel Complex, after one of their leaders experienced what he believed was a revelation from God, according to theologian Vivienne Costa, author of Evangelical Drug Dealers (Evangelical Drug Dealers).
She says that the gangsters consider themselves "soldiers of crime" and Jesus as the "owner" of the territory they rule, and some have given them the controversial name "narco-pentecostals".
- Gold for sex services in wild mines in Amazonia
- Robinho, the rape case and the dark side of Brazilian football
- Cocaine smuggler arrested after taking a picture next to Escobar's grave
Rifle and Bible
Pastor Diego Nascimento is someone who has experience with both crime and religion, but in his case not at the same time.
He became a Christian after talking to a gun-toting criminal.
Looking at him now, it's hard to believe that this 42-year-old boyish-looking, smiling-faced, dimpled minister of the John Wesley Methodist Church was once a member of the notorious Red Command crime gang in Rio and directed its activities in city favela Vilja Kenedi.
Even four years in prison for drug trafficking was not enough to deter him from crime.
But when he became addicted to cocaine, his position in the gang plummeted.
"I lost my family.
"I practically lived on the street for almost a year.
"I fell so low that I sold things from the house to buy crack," he says.
Just as he hit rock bottom, a well-known drug dealer in the favela called him over.
"He started preaching, saying that there is a way out, that there is a solution for me, and that is to embrace Christ," he recalls.
The young addict heeded this advice and made his way to the pulpit.
Pastor Nascimento still spends time with criminals, but with those in prison he helps turn their lives around just like he did himself.
Although he was led on the right path by a criminal, he believes that crimes based on religious beliefs are in themselves contradictory.
"I don't think of them as evangelical believers," he says.
"I believe that these are people who go the wrong way and fear God because they know that God is the one who guards their lives.
"It is not possible to be an evangelist and a robber at the same time, it does not go together.
"If someone accepts Christ and follows God's commandments, then he cannot be a drug dealer."
'Life under siege'
According to some predictions, by the end of this decade there will be more evangelicals in Brazil than Catholics, who are now the most numerous religious community in the country.
As Pentecostalism spread, it was most readily accepted by the people in the gang-controlled favelas, and now some of those gangs are using the very beliefs of this movement they grew up with to seize power.
The gangs are accused, among other things, of trying to expel Afro-Brazilian religious groups with violence.
Cristina Whitel, a professor of sociology at Rio's Fluminense State University, says the city's poor communities have long lived "under siege" by criminal gangs and that this is now affecting their freedom of religion.
"In the Israeli complex, members of other religious groups do not have the right to freedom of religion.
"It is not an exaggeration to say that there is religious intolerance in that territory".
Whitel says buildings of the Afro-Brazilian Umbanda and Candomble religions are also closed in surrounding neighborhoods, and criminals sometimes write messages on the walls, such as "Jesus is Lord of this place."
Followers of Afro-Brazilian religions have long faced prejudice and are not only targeted by drug dealers.
But Dr. Rita Salim, head of the Rio police department for crimes of racial discrimination and intolerance, says threats and attacks by drug gangs have particularly strong consequences.
"These cases are more serious because these acts are committed by a criminal organization, a group and its leader who spread fear throughout the territory they rule."
He says an arrest warrant has been issued for a man believed to be the head of all the criminals in the Israeli compound for allegedly ordering an armed attack on an Afro-Brazilian temple in another favela.
'Neo-Crusader War'
Allegations of religious extremism in Rio's favelas first surfaced in the early 2000s, and the situation has "deteriorated dramatically" in recent years, says Marcio de Jagun, coordinator of the religious diversity department at Rio's City Council.
Žagun, who is a senior priest of the Candomble religion, says that this is now a national problem and that there have been similar attacks in other Brazilian cities.
"This is a form of neo-crusade," he says.
"The prejudices that are the cause of these attacks are both religious and ethnic, and the robbers demonize African religions and claim to drive out evil in the name of God."
But religion and crime have long been intertwined in Brazil, says theologian Vivien Costa.
In the past, criminals prayed and sought protection from Afro-Brazilian deities and Catholic saints.
"If we look at the origin of the Red Commando gangs or the Third Commando, African religions [and Catholicism] were present from the beginning.
"We see the presence of Saint George, the presence of [Afro-Brazilian god] Ogun, tattoos, crucifixes, candles, sacrifices."
She says that this should not be called narco-Pentecostalism because it diminishes the historical and traditional connection between crime and religion.
"I prefer to call it 'narco-religiosity,'" he adds.
Whatever you call this combination of religion and crime, one thing is clear: it threatens the right guaranteed by the Brazilian Constitution - the right to freedom of religion.
And it's another way violent drug traffickers harm the communities forced to live under their rule.
Watch the video: Why children are killed in police actions in Brazil
Follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube i Viber. If you have a topic proposal for us, contact us at bbcnasrpskom@bbc.co.uk
Bonus video:
