Church hits hard times

A large sign outside Full Word Ministries features a rendering of a sparkling new cathedral planned for the property to minister to thousands of followers. "Coming soon," the sign proclaims. Nearby, an announcement board urges people to keep faith in God's plan, no matter what they're going through.

The past two years have been a sharp test of that faith for this North Charleston church that once boasted more than 1,000 members.

The arrest of its charismatic preacher, Pastor Tyrone Moore, on multiple molestation charges set the church in a tailspin that has left it with a dwindling congregation and a pending lawsuit over his alleged actions.

Full Word also could find itself homeless after the mortgage-holder recently foreclosed on its Gordon Street property, court records show.

Moore, already a twice-convicted sex offender, spent a year in jail before finally posting bail in January on the latest charges. Moore is no longer the sole pastor, but he reportedly has returned to the pulpit, his preaching limited to adults-only services under the terms of his bail. The church hires off-duty North Charleston police officers to make sure no one under the age of 18 gets in, police said.

Eduardo Curry, Moore's attorney, said his client would not speak to a reporter.

But he said Moore is making the best of his situation as he awaits his day in court.

"He has put his faith in the hands of God, and he has been continuously prayerful that when his day of justice comes, he will be vindicated," Curry said.

Moore, a married father of four, has been accused of molesting or assaulting eight young men at the church and in his Goose Creek home between 2002 and 2006. His accusers ranged in age from 11 to 21 at the times the incidents occurred. He faces numerous charges in North Charleston and Goose Creek, and prosecutors have announced their intention to seek life without parole for the 41-year-old pastor. No trial dates have been set.

One man who claims he was molested as a teenager by Moore also has filed a negligence lawsuit in Berkeley County against Full Word Ministries; Moore's wife, Erica; and church deacons Eugene Elmore, Alfonso Majors and Joseph Washington. The suit alleges that the church and its leaders failed to protect the victim, identified as "John Doe," and other children from a pastor who was a known, registered sex offender.

Moore, now living in Ladson, started Full Word Ministries after his release from state prison in 2000. He pleaded guilty in 1989 and 1991 to sexually abusing two girls while serving as choir director at his grandfather's church, Reformed House of God in North Charleston. One victim was an 11-year-old choir member who had been staying at his grandfather's house. The other was a 9-year-old choir member whom Moore had sexually abused for four years.

The lawsuit, which seeks unspecified damages, alleges that Moore's wife and other Full Word leaders knew or should have known of his past and failed to warn or safeguard children from his "deviant sexual propensities."

Moore is accused of sexually assaulting "John Doe" on numerous occasions at the church and other locations between 2001 and 2005. The victim was 17 when the incidents began, the lawsuit states.

Scott Beard, attorney for the victim, declined to comment on the lawsuit, as did lawyers for Erica Moore and the three deacons.

In court papers, however, the defendants have denied the allegations against them.

Curry said he is concerned that the civil lawsuit could go to trial before Moore's criminal case is heard, creating adverse publicity that could potentially poison the jury pool. He said it also is unfortunate that the church is being dragged into a matter that "it has nothing to do with" at a time when Full Word is trying get back on course and perform its mission as a church.

The church, however, has other worries to contend with, including the possibility of losing its Gordon Street home across from Garrett Academy of Technology. A nondenominational Virginia church foreclosed on the property in February after Full Word Ministries failed to make mortgage payments for 11 months. The mortgage holder, Leesburg Pike Community Church of Virginia, had loaned Full Word $500,000 to buy the 2.6 acre property and building in 2002, according to court records.

A Charleston County judge awarded Leesburg Pike the deed to the property, which was put up for auction to satisfy the $415,433 debt. The property didn't sell, so it remains under the Virginia church's control, court documents state.

Philip G. Clarke III, attorney for Leesburg Pike, said he doesn't know his client's immediate plans for the property, but it likely will be placed on the market. Attempts to reach the Virginia church and its leaders were unsuccessful last week.

Curry down-played the significance of the foreclosure. He said the two sides simply might be trying to work out a new financial arrangement. He said he wouldn't be surprised if Leesburg Pike ended up selling the building back to Full Word. Meanwhile, Full Word's congregation continues to worship in the building, Curry said, and he knows of no plans for them to stop doing so.

Curry acknowledged that the congregation has shrunk since Moore's arrest, but he wouldn't provide numbers. "The membership is no longer what it once was, but the church is not closed."

One former parishioner said she stopped by the church one recent Sunday morning to watch Moore preach after he was released from jail. The woman said Moore sounded like his old self, prideful in his appearance and even boastful at times about his time behind bars.

But the change was evident. In the months before his arrest, Moore was busy raising money for a massive new sanctuary, referred to as "The Dome," and working to open a cavernous outreach center designed to draw kids from around the community. There was no mention of those plans on that Sunday morning.

The former parishioner said there were very few people on hand, the congregation a shadow of its former self. Once a vocal supporter of Moore, she left the church last year disappointed and disillusioned. She spoke on condition of anonymity because she and others who departed were required to sign confidentiality agreements before they left, she said.

"It just doesn't feel the same there anymore," she said. "A lot of good people have left."