Fraud, fraud, fraud, fraud, FRAUD!!!

If you live in the Toronto area, you may have heard this story. Forgive me if this is the case.

It's a fact of life that there are assholes out there. And that there are also gullible, good people whose generosity is abused by said assholes. But I draw the line when these assholes get their ill-gotten money through a thin veil of respectability and don't even pay taxes:

The hairdresser scrapes together $600 of her own money each month to keep up the program [for the homeless] because the Prayer Palace – one of Canada's largest evangelical churches – stopped running it five years ago. Other charitable works, like a promised orphanage in Brazil, either dried up or never materialized.

Meanwhile, the three white pastors – Paul Melnichuk and his 40-year-old twin sons, Tim and Tom – lead lavish lives in contrast to the mainly working-class black families that make up the bulk of the church.

Between them, the pastors have amassed a real estate fortune worth about $12 million. Each owns a multi-million-dollar country estate north of Toronto (Tim's is worth as much as $5.5 million), they share a Florida vacation villa, and the pastors and their wives drive luxurious cars – among them a Porsche Cayenne SUV, a Lexus RX 330 SUV and a Mercedes-Benz CLK 320 convertible.

Congregants are largely unaware of the pastors' extravagant lifestyles.

"Wow," says Leslie Stewart, 63, who works in a paint factory six days a week and gives 10 per cent of his income to the church. "I never heard of anything like that. But if I release my tithe and they misuse it, they have to face God."

The Prayer Palace has a devoted congregation. Most worshippers believe in tithing, the practice of donating 10 per cent of one's income to the church, and each year they give a reported $3 million. "The people love (the Melnichuks)," Houghron says. "Pastor Paul ... loves the Lord. He does God's work."

In addition to personally funding the homeless program, Houghron – a staunch supporter of Pastor Paul – tithes and also gives him $100 to $200 cash for his birthday. "He's never given me gifts like that but he's given me spiritual gifts," says Houghron. "He encourages the work I do for the homeless."

The Prayer Palace offers several exuberant religious services each week. Conducting them, combined with the pastor's church-building efforts, qualifies the Prayer Palace as a charity under federal law, making the church exempt from taxes.

However, a continuing Star investigation into Canadian charities has found the church devotes little money to charitable work. In fact, the church's most recent financial statements show that only $9,443 was spent on "benevolent and charity" activities in 2005. The church's annual "missions" fluctuate between $500 and $36,704 in the past few years.

Disgusting. I think I'm going to write to my M.P. and M.P.P. about this one.

By the way, this article came out a week ago, and most parishoners seem to be supporting their pastor. Yeah, kind of like the way you stuck with that bad boyfriend because you'd already invested so much into the relationship that you couldn't bear to accept it wasn't working out;

Brushing off the media attention, Melnichuk told his cheering worshippers that tithes in the wake of the Star's investigative report have actually increased by 10 per cent.

After the story was published March 4, he said, "our board of directors said the pastor will be back and will make a statement."

After pausing to welcome the media yesterday, Melnichuk added: "The statement is this ... the board of directors met and discussed (Saturday), with about 400-500 key leaders of this church ... and a solicitor has been retained."

As well, Melnichuk said, a "strategic communications solutions" team has been engaged.

"Okay, that's it sweetie pie," he said, concluding his remarks with a smile.

Within moments, a woman in a burnished gold dress and head-dress ran to the stage and slapped a $50 bill onto Melnichuk's forehead.

The move was met with cheers and, following a request by a church volunteer, congregation members started throwing money at Melnichuk's feet.

"First the funds go the church," said the beaming pastor. "After that, if the folks want to bless me..."

The church volunteers, acting on Melnichuk's instructions, divided the growing pile of cash into three collection buckets; the pastor then instructed a young member who is training to be a preacher to dip in and take out "a handful of cash."

"I hope the media got a picture of me with a $50 bill stuck to my forehead," Melnichuk laughed.