This Jan. 19, 2002 file photo shows Dr. George Tiller, shot to death at his church last Sunday, May 31, 2009, who had been the target of a relentless protest campaign for most of the 36 years that he performed abortions at his Wichita clinic. (AP Photo/Larry Smith, File)
Wichita, Kan. (AP) - Abortion provider George Tiller felt safe inside the one place where he most openly shared his faith in God with others - the Kansas church to which he routinely tithed and served as an usher.
 
So when a lone shooter gunned down the embattled doctor in the foyer, the killing transcended one family's personal tragedy in a deeply religious community, opened a new chapter on abortion's contentious history and brought condemnation from both sides of the battleground.
 
On Saturday, hundreds are expected to gather for Tiller's funeral, which will be at a different Wichita church. Its pastor, the Rev. John Martin, said that "the grief is intensified" because Tiller was killed in a house of worship.
 
"We all know that shootings happen in church, I am always disconcerted when they do. Suddenly, it really struck home," said Martin.
 
Tiller, 67, was shot in the head as he handed out programs Sunday while ushering at Reformation Lutheran Church. The gunman then assaulted two other ushers before he left the church. Scott Roeder, a 51-year-old abortion opponent, was arrested three hours later just outside Kansas City. He was charged Tuesday with the attack at the church where he occasionally attended services two months before.
 
On Friday, the Justice Department said it opened an investigation into the killing.
 
Tiller's funeral will be at College Hill United Methodist Church to accommodate a large crowd since the facility can hold up to 1,000 people. Also, Tiller had long-standing ties to that church - its former pastor had served as a chaplain at Tiller's clinic.
 
The U.S. Marshals Service and the Wichita Police Department will provide security at the funeral.
 
Members of the Topeka-based Westboro Baptist Church, the group infamous for picketing funerals of slain soldiers, have announced plans to protest, but other anti-abortion groups say they do not plan to attend the funeral.
 
"The best thing I can do," said Troy Newman, president of the anti-abortion group Operation Rescue, "is to stay away."
 
On the hot-button issue of abortion, where neither side can find much common ground, both factions say Tiller's death was all the more disturbing because of where it occurred.
 
"A murder anywhere is hard, but a church of all places - a church has always been a sanctuary, a safe house," Newman said.
 
But for years, abortion opponents have demonstrated outside Tiller's church, although those protests have waned in recent years as abortion foes focused their strategy in the courtroom and with the state medical board that regulates Kansas doctors.
 
Tiller was no stranger to attacks. His clinic was bombed in 1986, and he was shot in both arms in 1993. Also, he previously has been under federal protection, including during the Summer of Mercy protests in 1991 that drew thousands of anti-abortion activists.
 
Today, Tiller's clinic is fortified with bulletproof glass, and a private security team protects it. Once outside the clinic, Tiller was usually seen accompanied by a bodyguard and often wore a bulletproof vest.
 
But one place that he did feel safe, was his church, his attorney, Dan Monnat said.
 
And he found that prayer and meditation helped him through the hard times. "If I'm OK on the inside," he told The Wichita Eagle newspaper in 1991, "what people say on the outside does not make much difference."
 
His death marks the sixth in a U.S. church since the beginning of 2009, according to the Cincinnati-based Christian Security Network, a national church security group.