CROWN JEWEL OF EXEMPTIONS
Copeland’s mansion tops list of state’s most valuable clergy residences
FORT WORTH — At his 2015 Southwest Believers’ Convention in Fort Worth, wealthy Texas televangelist Kenneth Copeland explained how he wound up living in a mansion. It all started when God told him years earlier to build that dream home his wife, Gloria, had described to him.
“Minister this house to her,” he recalled the almighty saying. “It is part of your prosperity.”
Her vision was vast: Rising up three stories and sporting white columns in front, the six-bedroom, sixbath estate on the shores of an exclusive lake community outside of Fort Worth has enough room to fit nearly four basketball courts — more than 18,000 square feet of living space in all.
“You may think that house is too big,” Copeland told the believers’ convention. “You may think it’s too grand. I don’t care what you think. I heard from heaven. Glory to God, hallelujah!”
What he didn’t mention is that his heavenly plans are being underwritten by Texas taxpayers. Under a little-known statute that county appraisers say is too vague and permissive, the $7 million mansion owned by Copeland’s Eagle Mountain International Church is considered a parsonage — a clergy residence — qualifying for a 100 percent tax break.
That means Copeland’s church gets a pass on what would otherwise be an annual property tax bill exceeding $150,000 — money that other local taxpayers must backfill to cover the cost of schools, police and firefighters.
A monthslong Houston Chronicle investigation of ministers’ tax-free residences found no shortage of extravagant homes in high-dollar locales. At least two dozen were worth over $1 million even using the artificially low values that exempt properties typically carry.
Yet even in that elite company, Copeland’s tax-free clergy residence stands out as an opulent illustration of the lengths the law allows religious organizations to go in claiming the tax break. The only limit on the dollar value churches can exempt resides in the imagination of pastors such as Copeland.
“The law was never intended to give breaks to millionaires and multimillionaires,” said Pete Evans, president of the Trinity Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to bringing more accountability and transparency to religious organizations.
“You make a mockery of the law itself.”
Jeff Law, Tarrant County’s chief appraiser, said the loose Texas statute gave him little choice.
“It definitely looks out of place and unusual compared to other parsonages we have,” Law said. “But from what I can gather through the law, and my understanding, it qualifies as a parsonage just like the little house next to the church would.”
‘Biblical guidelines’
Texas began allowing religious organizations to exempt clergy residences from property taxes nearly a century ago. But the law limits the properties to 1 acre of land and, at least in theory, prohibits ministers from using the generosity of the tax code for “private gain.”
Evans said Copeland’s church easily found a way around both restrictions.
The luxurious 1-acre parsonage is surrounded by a 24-acre lakefront tract valued extraordinarily low — $125,000 — so Copeland’s Eagle Mountain International Church pays less than $3,000 a year in property taxes on it, records show. The district agreed to the value as part of a dispute resolution agreement with the church, Law said.
Real estate experts say that much waterfront property minutes from Fort Worth would sell for many multiples of that on the open market.
“Texas law states that the parsonage exemptions are limited to an acre,” Evans said. “Copeland’s mansion is like a textbook example on how lawyers can get around the spirit of the law, using the letter of the law.”
Kenneth Copeland Ministries did not respond to the Chronicle’s request for an interview. But in a written statement spokesman Lawrence Swicegood criticized the “many unfounded claims, misreported facts or grossly exaggerated statements” by the media and others.
“Eagle Mountain International Church (Kenneth Copeland Ministries) always abides by biblical guidelines. Our church also adheres to the various federal, state, county and local codes, statutes and ordinances applicable to the church ministry,” Swicegood said. “Our Church, with a worldwide impact, is helping proclaim and teach Christians around the world how to apply the principles of faith found in God’s word.”
In the public eye
Copeland doesn’t seem to be ashamed of his wealth. On the contrary, in the prosperity gospel he champions on the pulpit, wealth is an outward sign of God’s blessing. He routinely exhorts followers to give generously to his church in order to receive material blessings in their own lives.
His parsonage is the architectural embodiment of that blessing. Built in 1999, it “has a sweeping spiral staircase and a bridge that spans across the living room and connects the two sides of the house,” a report by the U.S. Senate Finance Committee found in 2011. “It also has crystal chandeliers and, according to Gloria Copeland, doors that came from a castle.” The report said the bedroom boasts a “huge drop-down ceiling projector and screen.”
Outside, a tennis court graces the grounds. The two garages together are bigger than most homes. A covered boat dock with three slips perches on the shores of Eagle Lake.
Copeland commands a fleet of tax-exempt planes and lives within walking distance of an airport — that would be Kenneth Copeland Airport — giving the octogenarian preacher a jet-setting lifestyle few of his congregants could ever dream of enjoying.
The Lubbock native also tops virtually every list of the wealthiest American pastors, including one compiled in 2018 by the religion lifestyle website Beliefnet, which pegged Copeland’s net worth at $760 million. Never mind that he declared himself a billionaire as far back as 2008.
“I’m a very wealthy man,” Copeland told “Inside Edition” reporter Lisa Guerrero in a viral 2016 interview. He said his wealth derived not from “offerings alone.” He pointed to “a lot of natural gas on our property.” Copeland, who also owns property outside of Tarrant County, didn’t say where his royalties came from.
“When you go back to the Bible, it’s full of wealth,” he told Guerrero.
A protégé of the late Oklahoma televangelist Oral Roberts, Copeland, 85, is a teetotaling Pentecostal preacher who speaks in tongues and can look almost maniacal on stage — like when he’s laughing at the notion that Joe Biden won the presidency or blowing the “wind of God” straight into the camera to snuff out COVID-19.
Copeland’s church empire and wealth have generated attention in the media and Congress. In 2007, WFAA-TV’s Brett Shipp reported that Copeland used church-owned aircraft to visit vacation spots. Church officials have said previously that any plane trips made for nonchurch business are reimbursed.
Comedian John Oliver also skewered him on “Last Week Tonight” for his life of luxury. And the U.S. Senate Finance Committee put Copeland in its crosshairs during a probe sparked by allegations of possible misuse of donations by six top televangelist ministries.
In Tarrant County alone, Copeland’s Eagle Mountain International Church has at least 1,400 acres worth of land, build
ings and personal property that are valued at almost $60 million, a Chronicle tally of online appraisal district records show.
Besides the religious tax breaks, much of the land carries agriculture exemptions, which dramatically lower the amount owed. Other nonexempt tracts owned by Copeland’s church are valued far below what one might expect for such a soughtafter location on Eagle Mountain Lake, a playground for Fort Worth’s well-to-do.
As a result, the church faced a property tax liability of only $23,000 or so this year on that $60 million in property, online tax records show. That’s about what the owner of a $1 million home might expect to pay in taxes in Houston.
Among the tax-free church property are several aircraft worth over $19 million. The church has argued to county appraisers — successfully — that the planes play a vital role in its religious mission.
Copeland’s church made a 2018 video requesting donor help to rig out and store one of his jets — a Gulfstream V he bought from Hollywood producer and actor Tyler Perry.
“Praise God!” he said after the plane arrived on the tarmac outside his tax-free hangar. “Isn’t that good?”
Copeland’s Eagle Mountain International Church is no stranger to disputes with the Tarrant Appraisal District in Fort Worth — or getting its way.
After the appraisal district set the parsonage’s market value at $10.8 million in 2020, the church protested, and it was lowered back to $7 million this year, according to Law, the chief appraiser. That’s more than $1 million below its 2008 value when adjusted for inflation.
Having a total exemption means the church would pay zero in taxes regardless of the value affixed by county appraisers. So why did Copeland’s church fight the nearly $11 million parsonage value? The chief appraiser speculated the church wants to keep the value low in case it ever loses the exemption.
Evans, the Trinity Foundation activist who has tracked Copeland’s tax-free wealth for decades, has a different theory.
“It makes sense that they would want their tax appraised value to be low so their congregants don’t think they’re living too extravagantly,” Evans said.
It’s not the only time Copeland’s church has prevailed in a tangle with county appraisers.
In 2008, the district denied an exemption on the church’s Cessna 550 jet after it refused to comply with a routine request to provide a list of salaries, which appraisers wanted in order to ensure the compensation was “reasonable” as the tax code requires.
The church sued. “Salary information is confidential and not subject to disclosure,” its lawsuit said.
Law recalled the dispute came just as U.S. Sen. Charles Grassley, R-Iowa, was bearing down hard on Copeland’s lavish living and possible misuse of donations. The chief appraiser said the church was vigorously fighting any disclosure of compensation details.
The most recent and publicly available salary information the appraisal district got for Eagle Mountain International Church dates back to 1995, when Copeland, his wife and family members had been paid $1.5 million. Grassley’s committee wanted more up-to-date figures, but the church balked.
“They knew that if they provided it to us, for exemption application purposes, that it would be public information,” Law said, “and Sen. Grassley could get his hands on that information.”
Then, suddenly, Law said the state comptroller’s office in Austin changed its application and dropped language that instructs applicants to “attach a list of salaries and other compensation.” Soon thereafter the district settled the lawsuit after agreeing to accept an affidavit from the church’s CPA saying the salaries were reasonable, Law said.
Chris Bryan, spokesman for state Comptroller Glenn Hegar, said the decision to change the form, which was promulgated without the salary and compensation language in January 2011, preceded the current administration.
Law said his office no longer asks for salary information from religious groups.
One piece of information the appraisal district never bothered to ask Copeland’s church: what clergy member lives in the parsonage on the lake. Nor could the appraisal district provide any records showing Eagle Mountain International Church has ever been asked to reapply for the parsonage tax exemption it first got 21 years ago.
Other churches have faced far more scrutiny. Some have been asked periodically to reapply for their parsonage exemption. And in letter after letter to clergy residence applicants, the appraisal district in Fort Worth warns religious organizations they will lose their exemption unless they say who lives there and how they’re connected to the ministry.
“Give the name of the person who resides at this property. Where did this person live before moving to this location? Give the name and location of the church,” the Tarrant Appraisal District demanded in a letter to New Hallelujah Church in 2010. “Unless you furnish this information within thirty days … the exemption must be denied.” The church complied.
Asked how his office was able to determine the house was dedicated to “the exclusive use as a dwelling place for the ministry,” as the Texas Constitution requires, without asking the church to provide the names of clergy members living there, Law replied: “That’s a good question. I don’t have an answer.”
But more than two decades after the appraisal district first granted a parsonage exemption to Copeland’s church, Law said he will be asking the ministry to reapply.
“It makes sense that they would want their tax appraised value to be low so their congregants don’t think they’re living too extravagantly.” Pete Evans, president of the Trinity Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to bringing more accountability and transparency to religious organizations