Jim Bakker, televangelist who rose to fame and fell from grace, dies

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Set us as preferred In the halcyon days of the televangelists, when Jim Bakker stood shoulder to shoulder with fire and brimstone preachers such as Jerry Farwell, Pat Robertson and Jimmy Swaggart, the collection plate always seemed bottomless.For Bakker, it meant a Christian theme park in a leafy Charlotte, N.C., suburb, a fleet of black Cadillac limousines, vacation homes, regular orders of truffles flown in from Brussels, a gold-plated bathtub, mink coats for his wife Tammy Faye and an air-conditioned doghouse at the family compound.In return for your unbending faith, he told viewers of his popular television show “The PTL Club,” God will bestow you great wealth and other blessings.

And to get things rolling, he added, just call the 800 number on the bottom of your screen.By the time it all fell apart amid a sex scandal and a fraud conviction, Bakker landed in prison and took stock of his life.He renounced the prosperity gospel he once had preached, wrote a raw and wrenching biography about his missteps and vowed to work with the needy and most vulnerable when he was released.Once free, however, he set up camp at a Christian compound deep in the Ozarks, armed with a darker message.

The End Times are upon us, he told viewers on his reborn television show, and the signs are everywhere — terrorist attacks, epic storms, thunderous earthquakes, frayed relations among world superpowers, a pandemic that refused to release its grip.To get viewers to the Rapture he said was sure to come, Bakker sold buckets of freeze-dried food with a shelf life of 30 years, fuel-less generators, doomsday guides and a magical elixir — “Silver Solution” — that could cure the coronavirus and other unpleasantries.“Imagine — the world is dying and you’re having breakfast like a king,” he told viewers.And, as before, the authoritie...