Worldandnation: Seeking solace in religion

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Seeking solace in religion

Grieving teenagers converge to honor their friend, 17-year-old Rachel Joy Scott, seeking comfort in numbers, and faith.

By BILL DURYEA

LITTLETON, Colo. -- Minutes before the funeral was to start, two girls walked away from the church, against the tide of arriving mourners.

They had come to honor their friend, Rachel Joy Scott, whose casket of white ash was at the front of the sanctuary. Like hundreds of other teenagers inside the church Saturday, they had written words on the casket that they wished they did not have to write.

"Rachel, I'm glad you're home now. I hope I see you soon, Love, Jennifer."

Then they left and it would have seemed that Jennifer Despain, 16, and Erin Bolin, 15, were turning their backs on the church.

Who could blame them if they were? Who could blame them if they wondered what good is faith when a devout Christian such as Rachel could be claimed in a bloody massacre of 13 people?

Tuesday morning, two young men in black trench coats stormed through the hallways of Columbine High School, shooting classmates with inexplicable randomness as well as with chilling specificity.

Rachel, a 17-year-old junior, and another girl were shot to death for answering yes to the question: "Do you believe in God?"

Far from causing a crisis of faith, however, Rachel's death has served for many survivors as an example of the triumph of good over evil. Churches have been packed with grieving teenagers who have sought comfort in numbers as well as in the solace that religion can afford.

Light of the World Catholic Church, near the school, has served as a round-the-clock clearing house of information as well as a sanctuary for the grieving. Attorney General Janet Reno met with Columbine students there Thursday when she visited Littleton.

But for some fundamentalist churches, such as Trinity Christian Center where Rachel's funeral was held, the killings have been viewed as a shining opportunity to preach shrouded in an act of unspeakable horror.

"Some of my friends didn't believe in anything before," said Jennifer Despain, dressed in an ankle-length black dress. "They believe now. They believe Rachel is not completely gone."

At 10 p.m. Friday night, the plate-glass church windows of the Trinity Christian Center were lit brightly from within as several women on tall step-ladders soaped away the grime in preparation for Saturday's funeral. CNN would be carrying the two-hour service live.

Just inside the church, which was converted from a Kmart five years ago, Susan Feindt was smiling broadly.

"I'm excited about tomorrow," said Feindt, whose husband Ray is associate pastor of the "non-denominational, full-gospel, charismatic" congregation. "Rachel loved the Lord and she wouldn't want us crying. Her life was a witness and a testimony. Good fruit will come out of this."

Before the Kmart was purchased, the congregation of 700 met at Columbine High School. With 16,500 square feet of space, Feindt said the church hopes to increase the number of worshipers to 10,000 in 10 years.

As she said this, a handful of teenagers, Feindt's daughter among them, jostled each other playfully. They are part of the church's youth group and at one time Rachel, 17, had been one of the most devoted members. Rachel was the one who made it fun to be there. She was the one who taught the other girls to dance and coached them in church plays for Christmas and Easter. The last one was called The Trial.

"It was like a Perry Mason version of the crucifixion," Feindt said.

Rachel had joined a youth group at another church, but she had maintained close ties with Trinity Christian. Her effect on the younger girls is still apparent.

Friday night, someone asked them why they would rather be inside a church than at the nearby Fun-Plex where kids from schools all around Jefferson County were playing miniature golf and video games.

"Fun-Plex doesn't determine where you go when you die," said Jackie Feindt, 14.

Are you worried about dying?

"After the incident," said Brandi Malonson, 15, "it brings it more to home."

"It can happen any time," said Jackie. "Just like it did at Columbine."

That the killers singled out students who believed in God did not weigh heavy on Eddie Timmons, the 31-year-old youth pastor of Trinity Christian. Eric Harris, 18, and Dylan Klebold, 17, targeted athletes, too.

"Anything that has decency and order they were against," he said.

In fact, there was a measure of pride evident.

"We would be proud to die for a God who sent his son to die for us," Timmons said. "I don't wake up in the morning saying I'm going to die, but if it happens -- what an honor."

Rachel's funeral was the second of the 13 victims. The day before, under gray skies that continued to dump wet spring snow on the city, 1,000 people gathered at the memorial service of 16-year-old John Tomlin.

Saturday dawned brighter. By 9:30 a.m., when the doors of the church opened, it was possible to see Columbine High School sitting on top of a knoll about a mile away.

Friends of Rachel's streamed in steadily. Girls teetered on high heels they are unaccustomed to wearing. Boys with freshly gelled hair looked stiff in shirts they usually don't button so high.

Slowly they made their way toward the casket, picked up a black marker and wrote quickly.

"Rachel, sweetie, I love you. Can't wait to see ya again. Have fun in my father's house. I wish you were here, but you're in a better place. Love, Alexis. P.S. Jesus, please take care of her."

"Rachel, You were an example of the love of Jesus to me. Your actions +

dedication to Christ have truly changed the world. In Him, Paul Chavez."

Their faces wet with tears, many of the kids went to the McDonald's next door to grab something to eat while they waited for the 1:30 p.m. service. By the time the ceremony started, nearly 3,000 people had filled the church.

"Rachel was fearless in her faith," said Pastor Barry Palser of the Orchard Road Christian Center. "And even though it may have been offensive to some, she just kept letting her light shine."

After noting that Rachel had hoped to graduate early so she could become a missionary, Palser pulled a diploma from his pocket.

"Well, Rachel, you have graduated early. You have graduated to life eternal," he said. "And the diploma is signed by the shed blood of Jesus Christ."

There are 11 more funerals to go.

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