MAGDALENA PETLACALCO, Mexico -- When Carlos Pacheco sneaked into the 17th century church at the heart of this semi-rural village, residents say he was trying to steal a jewel-covered statue that they hold sacred.
Instead, he unleashed what the parish priest called a deadly religious fervor that police, Roman Catholic Church officials and many ordinary Mexicans were still struggling to understand Friday.
Witnesses said residents who caught Pacheco in the small church just after dark Wednesday first rang alarm bells that brought 400 people, including women, teen-agers and children, pouring into the church plaza.
The crowd tied the 29-year-old man to a railing outside and beat him for nearly two hours, shouting "hang him, hang him," until he fell unconscious and died. A small contingent of police could not make their way through the crowd to rescue Pacheco, witnesses said.
The brutality of the killing, along with television images of Pacheco hanging by ropes from the railing, shocked even Mexicans hardened by relentless media coverage of escalating urban violence.
But for members of the community, who the day after the killing bought vegetables in small market stalls and washed clothes in their front yards, the public killing of the accused thief was no surprise.
Just a few days before, the village celebrated the annual festival to honor its patron saint, Mary Magdalene, and the statue had been draped in flowers and showered with gifts.
"Here, the community unites to defend its rights," said Alberto Garcia, fixing a faucet beside his house 50 yards from where blood still stained the sidewalk and a single candle stood.
Pacheco's mistake, Garcia and other villagers said, was to covet the statue. The villagers described it as a "treasure" that protects them and guides their community.
"This was a religious frenzy more than anything else. It was a kind of fanaticism," said the Rev. Lorenzo Arroyo, the parish priest who, witnesses say, was greeted by vulgarities when he tried to calm the crowd.
"This is something very sacred. To touch (the statue of the saint) is to touch something dangerous. That was Pacheco's error," the priest said.
Recent studies in Mexico show that public vigilante killings happen mostly in rural areas and mostly in places where, like Magdalena, an indigenous population still follows traditions of justice meted out by community councils. One study by the Miguel Agustin Pro Juarez Human Rights Center counted 73 such killings in Mexico between 1993 and May 2000.
Carmen Pedrazzine, the author of the study, said vigilante killings are now spreading into urban areas because Mexicans have grown weary of corrupt police and the failures of the country's judicial system.
"It's really a frustration with the way the justice system here works," Pedrazzine said.
Television images of the killing show giggling teen-agers warning, "This is what happens to thieves around here," while the crowd cheered and chanted around Pacheco's body. The six policemen at the scene were unable to disperse the mob.
But in the light of day, none of the residents here admitted to taking part in the killing. Most said they were out of town or arrived late from a party or an event.
Police interrogated the village's leader as well as other town fathers charged with care of the church. So far authorities have made no arrests. Officials say the death was caused by repeated blows to the victim's head and body.
Magdalena, which sits on a hill overlooking Mexico City, is about 20 miles south of downtown. While the community is governed by Mexico City and lies inside the boundaries of the Federal District, its people generally consider themselves villagers separate from the metropolis of 18 million.
In many ways, Magdalena stands at the same crossroads as much of a battered and disappearing rural Mexico.
Once isolated, residents say Magdalena is fighting a losing battle to maintain everything from safe streets to religious traditions.
Crime is on the rise, and there is no permanent police presence. A patrol car passes by once a day, but stays for only a few minutes, said Carmen Ramirez, who runs a vegetable stand across from the church.
"I think (the killing) was justified," Ramirez said. With all this crime "I'm scared. Now maybe (the criminals) will be scared too."
Despite the recent thefts of car radios and break-ins, it was the attempt to take the statue that crossed some invisible line here.
The ceramic figure is covered with jewels, including pearl necklaces and gold rings, presented as offerings or in return for answered prayers.
"Imagine the disorder if it had been stolen," said Rosa Ortiz, shelling peas in her front yard.
Arroyo, the parish priest, said the blame for Pacheco's death lies in part with the Catholic Church.
In a country where the Virgin of Guadalupe is revered and portraits of saints adorn walls and offices, Arroyo said he believes that the church does too little to discourage attitudes like Ortiz's.
"We still tolerate a fanatic way of looking at our saints. They're untouchable. It's ignorance, but it's also a lack of attention on our part," Arroyo said.
"For me and for the church, this (killing) should raise serious questions."