Throughout rural America this summer, alternative Christian rock bands aim to burst the eardrums and save the souls of American teenagers at evangelical-sponsored alternative Christian rock concerts. The four-day Cornerstone '96 festival drew 15,000 young people to Bushnell, Ill., earlier this month. Now in its thirteenth year, the festival is growing in popularity. PNS associate editor Andres Tapia, a contributing editor of Christianity Today, is a Chicago-based writer.

BUSHNELL, ILL. -- Deep in the heart of rural Illinois, 150 alternative Christian rock bands exploding with power chords set out earlier this month to burst the eardrums and save the souls of 15,000 wild-haired, body pierced teenagers. The result -- a four-day concert called Cornerstone '96 Festival -- is yet another testament to American evangelicalism's ability to co-opt any subculture and infuse it with its brand of conservative Christianity.

Quick to condemn liberal Protestant churches for bending their theology to suit the latest spiritual fad, evangelicals are not above metamorphasizing their own approach to save souls. So among the Harley Davidson leather crowd, Bikers for Christ show off their Hogs and then whip huge leather bound Bibles out of their saddle bags to talk to Hell's Angeles about heaven's ways. Likewise members of Models for Christ who parade on Paris's fashion runways preach inner beauty and God's true love.

At Cornerstone, held at a 365-acre property five hours southwest of Chicago, spiked green-haired youths pile out of church vans and bikini-clad young women splash in the lake, while in a nearby tent a minister talks about no sex before marriage. Full throttle heavy metal music blares out of boom boxes in pup tents at 4 a.m. just hours before groups gather in front of campfires with bowed heads to recite morning prayers. Those who are already "saved" sport crosses in pierced navels or etched onto sunburned backs. Bible tattoos are popular, as are "The Devil Sucks" T-shirts.

Now in its thirteenth year, this surreal PG-rated forerunner to Lollapalooza keeps growing in popularity. At least half a dozen similar concerts -- Creation in rural Pennsylvania, Tom Fest in Portland, Fishnet in rural Virginia -- promise to draw at least 50,000 young people before the end of the summer.

Sponsored by the Chicago-based evangelical Jesus People USA (JAPUSA), Cornerstone bills itself as a "Taste of Heaven on Earth." Its goal, says spokeswoman Terri Knudson, is "to provide a wholesome atmosphere (no alcohol, drugs or indecent clothing allowed) for religious youths and families as well as a place to attract non-believers to expose them to issues of faith." The event is structured so that participants can, between stage diving at one of ten stages, catch dozens of workshops on creationism, the interplay between art and faith, and racial reconciliation.

While Cornerstone's message is undiluted, straight-out conservative evangelicalism, the music hangs on the outer edges of the contemporary Christian music scene. Thrashing guitars and plenty of noise rule. But the reminders that this is no ordinary alternative music scene pop up abruptly as lead singers stop in the middle of a set to pray aloud.

At the open air Main Stage, groups like the acoustic alternative Jars of Clay, melodic punk MxPx, and hard-edged gospel rock Resurrection Band shriek through songs of longing for meaning and love. The mosh pit is a frenzy as multiple divers jump off the stage, half a dozen surf the crowd, and beach balls and chunks of bagels rise in the air in a cloud of dust from thousands of stomping feet.

The ultimate goal at Cornerstone is "to bring people to salvation," says Christian rock pioneer Steve Taylor, who performed at Cornerstone. "We believe we have ultimate truth and so we are going to want others to join us."

For many, this is church -- a place where they can be touched and held up by members of the same tribe. "It was the first time I did stage diving and surfing and it was such a rush! It was insane," enthuses Doug Neuman, 16, from Glen Ellyn, Ill. Neuman converted to evangelicalism a year ago at another Christian rock concert.

Weez Borchardt, 27, manager of the Christian music store True Tunes in Wheaton, Ill., remembers her first Cornerstone as "life changing ... To see people so inspired by their relationship to God and to hear them sing cool songs about it made God real to me."

As frenzied music fills the rural air, the "Prayer and Ministry" tent is open. There are no crowds here, but Doc Marten footprints in the dust mark a steady stream of those seeking to understand the meaning behind the lyrics.