Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The flock mourns for Jerry Falwell
Thousands attend the service for the charismatic, controversial evangelist.
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LYNCHBURG -- Televangelists, politicians and parishioners bid farewell Tuesday to the Rev. Jerry Falwell, a fundamentalist preacher who altered the nation's political landscape with his dogmatic oratory.
Thousands flocked to the 90-minute funeral at his Thomas Road Baptist Church to pray for the preacher who galvanized his followers and infuriated many outside his Christian universe.
During a half century in the pulpit, on television and in the political spotlight, the doctrinaire Falwell rarely held back. He condemned gays, feminists, civil rights activists and others while pushing for laws to regulate moral behavior.
Several people said Falwell's legacy of encouraging the religious right to go to the polls will survive him.
"He said, 'I believe God has called me to confront the culture.' And did he ever confront it," said the Rev. Jerry Vines, former president of the Southern Baptist Convention who gave a sermon that stitched personal stories together with biblical references.
Falwell, who rose to national prominence as a charismatic and controversial evangelist, died May 15, presumably of heart problems. He was 73.
Jerry Falwell Jr. said his father left instructions for his funeral, last revised by hand in March 2006, where he chose specific songs, speakers and to be buried on the Liberty University campus.
As the family stepped into the hushed sanctuary, Falwell's daughter Jeannie Savas wrapped her arm around her mother, Macel, who leaned on her for support. The crowd watched somberly.
The Rev. Franklin Graham, son of evangelist Billy Graham, asked parishioners to pray for the family.
"People have asked me, 'Franklin, do you agree with Jerry Falwell? Every time he opened the Bible, I agreed with Jerry Falwell."
On Sunday, a horse-drawn carriage carried Falwell's body on a mile-long route through the Liberty campus, which he founded in 1971.
The way was lined with parishioners, many jostling for a glimpse. Some wore black ribbons secured by "Jesus First" pins. At the church, a footman with a silk top hat opened the door, and Falwell's casket was carried into the 6,000-seat church he founded 50 years ago in an abandoned soda bottling plant.
Falwell had lain in repose for four days. His family buried him outside his office in the historic Carter Glass Mansion. An eternal flame burns there.
"It was top-notch with people lining up. It was like Kennedy or Reagan, that's what it felt like to me," said Charles Yopp, 49, a church member for the past four years.
Falwell's pallbearers included his twin brother, Gene, his nephew, his wife's brother and other family members, as well as several student athletes. The processional encircled the 5,000-acre Liberty Mountain campus and passed Falwell's birthplace, where Gene Falwell still lives.
Dignitaries included Pat Robertson and other televangelists and church leaders. President Bush sent a White House aide, who described Falwell as "a great friend of this administration" and a "force of nature." Several top-ranking Virginia Republicans appeared in the estimated crowd of 10,000, including Lt. Gov. Bill Bolling, Attorney General Bob McDonnell and former U.S. Sen. George Allen.
Across the street from the church, several groups of protesters and Falwell defenders waved signs.
A Liberty University student was arrested Monday for carrying five homemade bombs in his car. Campbell County authorities said the student had problems with a group of protesters at the funeral.
Falwell, the son of an agnostic bootlegger, became a Baptist as a young man and built his empire. His grand visions often outstripped his financial means, but he finally succeeded in spreading the values of an old-time Southern tent revival through television, his university and megachurch.
His Moral Majority championed family values, helping Ronald Reagan win the presidency in 1980.
"As far as I'm concerned, he woke up a slumbering church and gave them a place at the political table," said H.B. London, vice president of Focus on the Family, just before the funeral service.
There were those who walked with Falwell, and those who walked away.
Mel White, the ghostwriter of Falwell's biography who later had a falling out with him, said he stood up in silent protest whenever Falwell "blasted gays" from the pulpit. White, who lived in a house across from the original Thomas Road church, said parishioners never spoke to him.
"I mourn his death, but I'm glad his voice is silent. He's the face of homophobia, and his words have been so destructive to my sisters and brothers," White said last week. "I think the total of his life is evil. Right now, his university is training thousands of little Falwells. He's not dead -- his spirit moves on."
Falwell had described Abe Foxman, national director of the Anti-Defamation League, as his most persistent adversary.
"We weren't enemies but we disagreed frequently. He was passionate, but also divisive," Foxman said. "When you say Christian nation, our antennas vibrate because of 2,000 years of history of contempt toward the Jews. While he was a passionate fundamental, he was also a pragmatist. He knew when to back off."
Falwell is one of the last of an era of old-time preachers who were confrontational and openly partisan. He created alliances with military and fiscal conservatives, increasing their combined influence.
"The dream of a single religious and conservative voice is much less likely today than in the 1990s. There is no single dominant figure in the religious sense the way he was," said Rabbi Eric Yoffie of the Union for Reform Judaism on Monday. "I don't think it is terribly likely that we'll see someone of his broad influence again."
Modern evangelicals, who are more concerned with social justice for the poor and environmental health, are typified by the Rev. Rick Warren of southern California's Saddleback Church.
"The movement is more diffuse than it was 20 years ago with Falwell, Pat Robertson and James Dobson," said Michele Dillon, a professor of sociology at the University of New Hampshire.
Falwell's sons are continuing his church and university. Jerry Jr., 44, is chancellor of the university, and Jonathan, 40, is executive pastor at the church.
While not as politically outspoken as their father, the younger Falwells are likely to use their institutions as forums for conservative voices. Their father wanted his university to grow to 25,000 students, creating a place for fundamentalist Christians that would be like Notre Dame for Roman Catholics and Brigham Young University for Mormons.
The church founded by the elder Falwell now has 24,000 members. He also started the parochial secondary school Liberty Christian Academy, a Christian law school and other ministries that have total revenues of more than $200 million annually.
Falwell's revenues weren't always healthy, so he relied heavily on benefactors.
In the late 1980s, when donations to his ministry dropped precipitously, Liberty University had racked up $73 million in debt and was on the brink of bankruptcy. Falwell's "Old Time Gospel Hour" was $16 million in debt. But by 1997, an anonymous businessman had repaid creditors and staved off financial ruin.
Today, trustees say the university is on solid ground by any measure -- enrollment or revenues -- but critics wonder what shape his legacy will take in the future.
"The sentiment is Falwell Ministries ... is going to do the same thing as Jerry: Focus on core, hot-button issues like abortion and gay rights," said the Rev. Barry Lynn of Americans United for Separation of Church and State. "I think Liberty University could face trouble without him. It now has an accredited law school and a significant endowment that will allow it to stay around for a while. But without the figure of Jerry Falwell, it simply won't be as attractive a place to go."
The Falwell faithful were unwavering after his death.
Jeannie Savas remembered her father's recovery in a hospital several years ago.
"He opened his eyes and started looking around and saw my mom's face," she said tearfully. "I'll never forget the look on his face -- he was so, so happy. I knew at that moment we had our dad back. And I know he's had that same look on his face for the last week, ever since he's stepped into heaven."




