Church Buys Heroin

Chapter 9 THE STREET

 

The Tragic Story of a Young Lady
 

The first time I came across the video “The Day I Brought Home a Hooker” by Art Lucier, I was sitting inside the Victoria City Library. For myself and many others living on the street, the library was more than just a place with books. It was a warm refuge from the rain and cold, a safe space where we could rest and use the computers. I had a pair of old, cracked earphones I had found in a free bin, and that afternoon I decided to listen to a few sermons online.
 

I had no idea that clicking on one particular video would set me on a path that would lead me to the police department. I also did not think that my name would appear in a local newspaper. At the time, I was simply trying to learn more about a group of charismatic leaders who were hosting revival events across Canada.
 

Earlier that week, a friend had taken me to a church that was livestreaming one of those large gatherings called Battle for Canada in Edmonton. I remember feeling encouraged as I watched believers praying for our nation and talking about revival. The atmosphere was lively. There was free pizza, tables full of food like a big smorgasbord, and a huge screen showing the event. It was all very exciting.
 

One aspect of the revival meeting that stood out to me was the participation of First Peoples from across Canada. Many of my closest and lifelong friends have come from First Peoples communities, and seeing them represented on that stage meant a lot to me. Their presence brought a sense of unity and hope. It felt right that they were part of the movement, and I believed then, as I do now, that any genuine move of God in our nation must include their voices, their stories, and their leadership.
 

The next day I returned to the library, scrolling through YouTube and looking for more teachings. That was when I saw a video with the title “The Day I Brought Home a Hooker.” The phrase looked completely out of place beside the other messages. I stared at it for a moment, thinking it seemed totally out of place and could not be a sermon. Curiosity got the better of me. I clicked play and did not realize how much that single decision would change everything that followed.
 

In the video, Art Lucier talks about how he was leading a Todd Bentley crusade in downtown Vancouver. Todd Bentley was later publicly disqualified from ministry by a panel of Christian leaders who cited issues of moral failure and unrepentant behavior. In the video, Art says that a girl working as a prostitute and addicted to heroin wanted to get off the street. He then says he was too busy to take her to a methadone doctor, so he phoned his church in Kitimat and made the decision to give her money to buy street drugs.
 

Art Lucier claimed he picked her up downtown and drove her to where she could buy street drugs. When the young lady got the heroin, she shot up in the bathroom and passed out. Art said he did not know where she had gone, and that he went into the girls’ bathroom to find her.
 

He said he took the street drugs from her, and in the video he claims that he put her in his van and then placed her in a hotel room with some youth group members who were traveling with him. In the video he says he distributed heroin to her “like a doctor,” and he claims he transported her for three days, stopping at a church to preach on the second night.
 

While he was ministering at the church, he said an elder came up to the pulpit and informed him that there was a girl going through withdrawal in the back. He said he left the pulpit, went to the back room, gave her more heroin, and then returned to preaching. He would go on to say that eventually she did get onto the methadone program. Unfortunately, the next year she died of liver failure as a result of her drinking. At the end of his video he said, “Would you judge me if I said I’d do it again?”
 

As I listened to the video, I was outraged that he would first of all use the word hooker in a sermon title. He even used the young woman’s full name, the same woman who had since died. I saw this as deeply disrespectful and dishonouring to her memory. If it had been my daughter, I would have been furious that someone would stand on a platform and call her out by name and refer to her as a hooker, especially since she had passed. No pastor should ever use that kind of language in a sermon title. Art Lucier’s actions were in opposition to the call of Christ. Calling her a hooker is a mockery to this woman’s life.
 

I was equally outraged that he claimed he bought street drugs with church money. Canadians are in the middle of a national opioid crisis, and my brother, like so many other Canadians, overdosed and died. I spend six days a week on the streets and witness overdoses almost daily. I know firsthand how toxic these drugs are, and they are the same kinds of drugs taking lives every single day.
 

I found myself sitting in the library listening to this video thinking this is ludicrous. I went back to my tent that night feeling sick to my stomach. I could not understand why anyone, especially someone in church leadership, would admit to buying street drugs and then post it publicly on YouTube. I felt completely confused about how someone could be so unaware of the nature of these substances and how poisonous they are. The fact that he said he would do it again is what truly shocked me.
 

It was important to me to report this to the police right away. I knew a police officer who worked with the Victoria Police Department. He was very friendly and we talked often. The officer was also Spanish speaking. I liked speaking Spanish with people on the street whenever I could. It kept me sharp and allowed me to practice what I had learned.
 

When I told the officer about the video and how shocked I was that anyone would present and post a video like that publicly, I asked him whether the conduct described in the video could lead to criminal charges, including the use of church money to buy street drugs and the transport and distribution of those drugs over several days. The officer told me it was unlikely because these actions occurred so long ago, and he did not believe charges would be possible.
 

I decided to confront Art publicly about the video. I began emailing pastors and churches in Kelowna expressing my concerns about the hooker confession video.
 

In the letters I tried my best to explain the dangers and consequences of street drugs and even wrote about how my brother died of an overdose. For me it was life and death. The video had to be taken down, and someone had to explain to Art the dangers of street heroin.
 

Art Lucier Did Not Listen
 

On October 4, Art Lucier went on Facebook and posted the following:
 

“FYI: Hey everyone. A self-proclaimed watchdog or critic out of Texas by the name John Elving is accusing me, us, leaders of Canada, of fraud and whatever. He’s tagging national leaders in his crap. I’m blocking him. I’d suggest you do the same. Don’t be taken down by a fool and his baseless folly.”
 

In that post, he referred to me as “a fool with baseless folly” and “a self-proclaimed watchdog or critic out of Texas.”

At first, I remember feeling hurt. What confused me even more, however, was why he would tell thousands of people that he was under investigation for fraud, when no such investigation existed.
 

If it were ever shown that money from a church or nonprofit was used to purchase street drugs and then recorded as a “ministry expense,” I believe that could raise serious questions about financial integrity and compliance with Canadian charity rules. I am not a lawyer, but my concern was simple. If the events were described publicly as happening under the umbrella of a registered nonprofit, it could invite scrutiny and create legal and ethical consequences for everyone involved.
 

Not long after his Facebook post, he made a sixteen-minute Facebook video saying:
 

“This hurting, sad individual from Victoria is actually going around saying that we are being investigated, our ministry, we are being investigated for fraud. What he does not tell everyone is that he is the one who is investigating us. There is nothing to see, our books are all open.”
 

I was once again stunned when Art Lucier repeated “we are being investigated for fraud.” He never once explained the heroin incident. He was not going to address it, so I kept sending out letters to warn people about the video. I only had access to the library when it was open, and other than that, I had no internet access.
 

The following week, I was at the food bank where I volunteered and cooked meals for the homeless. One of my friends came over to me and said, “Have you heard it yet?” I asked what he meant. He said Art Lucier had made another video about me on social media. He said Art was warning Canadians about me.

Me! 

I had to finish up what I was doing at the food bank, so afterward I went to the library before it closed. I got there just in time to listen to the new twenty-six-minute Facebook livestream.

In it he said:

“I just want to address again this hurting, sad individual from Victoria who is phoning ministries or hotels and saying one of the lies, that this guy, he identifies as a Catholic, but he is not a true Catholic, would not lie and do what he is doing. He is actually going around saying that we are being investigated, our ministry, we are being investigated for fraud. What he does not tell everyone is that he is the one who is investigating us. There is nothing to see, keep going. Our books are all open.”
 

As I sat at the computer, I thought this is crazy. I have never identified as a Catholic. The whole idea is ludicrous. I am a third generational Pentecostal and part of the charismatic church.
 

In the video, Art once again repeated “We are being investigated for fraud,” but he never addressed my concern about the heroin incident. He framed the situation as if I were some kind of Catholic critic, yet completely avoided addressing the heroin he claims he purchased with church funds.
 

It was troubling because I did not know how to defend myself or my ministry. Many of the people who follow Art are Pentecostals like me, and I had no idea how to handle the situation. That week, as I sat in my tent reflecting on everything that had happened, I decided to create a Facebook page dedicated to raising awareness about the dangers of street heroin and to expose the video.
 

Later that week, I went to the library as soon as it opened. I sat down at a computer and created a new Facebook page. I began gathering and posting information about the heroin video. I remembered that Moms Stop the Harm had shared a photo of my brother, so I included it on the new page. Moms Stop the Harm is a Canadian network of families impacted by substance-use related harms. They provide support to grieving families and to those supporting loved ones who use or have used substances.

As I posted it, tears began streaming down my face. Sitting there in the library, I wept as I wrote about the dangers of street drugs and the growing crisis I was seeing in my community. I wanted people to understand how serious it had become.
 

As I watched and rewatched the video, I was shaken by what I believed it communicated. I came away convinced that Art Lucier felt justified in what he had done, and that realization broke me. I felt like I was fighting not only for my brother, but also for the girl in the video, and for every Canadian struggling with addiction or grieving the loss of someone they loved.
 

After I finished building the page, I began sharing it across social media. I copied and pasted the URL onto pages connected to Kelowna Harvest Church, and I emailed it to many in the church community. Since Art had already posted on Facebook and made multiple videos about me, I checked his page to see what his response would be.
 

On October 10, 2019, which I believe was the same day I launched my Facebook page, Art posted an image of a man standing with a gun beside two massive crocodiles. In the post, he described a dream where he fought off attackers with a mining pick and a paddle, and he wrote:
 

“Art Lucier October 10, 2019

Had a half scary but powerful dream last night. A bunch of us were at a resort by a lake getting some God business done. Two massive crocs came out of the water to kill us. It did not look good. I lucked out by finding a big mining pick and pinned one through the head as it came around the corner.
 

The house was on stilts. The other croc went under the house to the other side where there was a ramp up to the house. It was going to take the ramp and easily bust the door to the house and kill everyone. As it was going under the ramp, I could see it in a gap under the boards. All I had was a paddle for a canoe, but I slid it down between the boards and hit the croc in the head hard.

The first hit stunned it. The paddle splintered as it hit its head. The paddle was now one quarter of the width. I struck it again. And again. I cut off its head.”
 

Because it appeared online so soon after I had gone public, I could not help but wonder if it was coincidence or something more. The timing and the violent imagery made me uneasy. Combined with other posts and videos Art released around that time, it made me question whether these were harmless metaphors, or veiled messages connected to my exposure work.

I could clearly see that Art Lucier was not going to delete the hooker video, and what made it even more concerning was that shortly afterward he announced he was coming to Vancouver Island, my hometown, for an event on Saturday, November 9 at 7:00 PM at the Mary Winspear Centre at 2243 Beacon Avenue in Sidney, British Columbia.
 

When I saw that he was coming to my hometown, especially after the dream post about the man holding the guns, my concern deepened. I was living in a tent by myself, and now he was coming to Vancouver Island with his band Revere. The Mary Winspear Centre was the same community centre where I showered and brushed my teeth. I had built close friendships with people in that community. They were part of my outreach, and I considered myself their friend and pastor.
 

My first thought was that maybe I should hide out while he was in town. Vancouver Island is small, and he could easily find me. I actually began thinking I should go out of town and wait until he left. But then, in a moment of clarity, I thought to myself, Wait a second. He is presenting me with an opportunity. Why not protest him. All of a sudden my fear turned into strength.
 

My whole attitude changed, and I said to myself, Who cares if I am living in a tent by myself. I will go protest in front of his band, all his friends, and confront him to his face at that event. I decided to make a big sign that said “Pastors Do Not Buy Street Heroin” and protest him. And that is exactly what I did.
 

I was still concerned about the dream vision of the man holding the gun, the talk of plunging pickaxes into people’s faces, and cutting off their heads. I felt it was important to go to the police station and file a report before I protested.
 

On the day of the event, I walked into the Victoria Police Department and said, “I would like to file a police report. I am going to protest a Christian revival event happening Saturday, November 9 at 7:00 PM at the Mary Winspear Centre, 2243 Beacon Avenue.” I told the police that if something happened, I wanted them to know I was there for a peaceful protest.
 

I then walked into a grocery store and asked the manager if they had any boxes. He gave me a big cardboard box, and I asked the lady behind the counter if she had a black Sharpie pen. I sat inside the supermarket and stencilled out my sign. On one side it said “Pastors Do Not Buy Street Heroin,” and on the other it said “My Brother Died” in big bold black letters. I decided I would protest the event and shout that pastors do not buy street heroin.
 

This would be the first protest in my life. I felt like I was David going up against Goliath and his entourage. How bad could it get?

original post and is reproduced here verbatim. It is included under fair dealing for purposes of documentation, analysis, and public interest. No endorsement by the author of the post, commenters, or any organizations shown is implied.

[ Image: Screenshot 2025-12-13 at 6.58.47 PM.png ]

“I just want to address again this hurting, sad individual from Victoria” Screenshot from a public Facebook livestream posted by Art Lucier in November 2019. reproduced here under fair dealing for purposes of documentation, analysis, and public interest. No endorsement by any individuals, commenters, or organizations shown is implied.

CHAPTER 10-  The Protest
 

What Art Lucier failed to grasp is that a drug addict will say anything to get more drugs. An addict might say, “Buy me some street heroin and I promise I will go see a methadone doctor.” That is the lie people in addiction tell when they are desperate.
 

In Vancouver, where Art’s church once paid for heroin, there are methadone staff on every corner. There is never an excuse to buy street drugs in any situation anywhere in Canada. People need to stop calling them street drugs and start calling them what they are: street poison, because that is exactly what they are.
 

It was seven o’clock in the evening on November 9, 2019, and it was already dark in Victoria. The rain had eased into a mist and the wet pavement reflected the orange glow of the streetlights. I was nervous that night. I did not know what to expect. I was going to confront Art Lucier publicly and protest his event by myself, alone in the dark.
 

I walked toward the Mary Winspear Centre carrying my huge sign that read in bold letters on one side, “Pastors Don’t Buy Street Heroin.” On the other side it said, “My Brother Died.” My first aid Narcan kit was attached to the top of the sign and it was heavy and awkward in the wind. I held it to my chest as I walked onto the property. I was there to confront him to his face.
 

That night there were only four people in total who stood outside the Mary Winspear Centre with signs. Three of them were there to protest Art Lucier’s comments about the LGBT+ community online. Anyone interested in what he said can search his name and read his comments.
 

My protest was about something entirely different. I stood on the sidewalk holding my sign and trying to draw awareness to the overdose crisis that was destroying lives across Vancouver Island. I had seen too many people die on the streets of Victoria and I wanted to send a message of warning and hope. And I wanted to confront Art Lucier.
 

As I approached the Mary Winspear Centre I saw a hulking man who looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. He had broad shoulders, big muscles, and was wearing a black jacket.
 

When I got closer, to my absolute relief, I realized it was a friend of mine who also did outreach in the community. He helped many people on the streets and had a great reputation for being kind to those in need. I had personally supported his outreach financially two years earlier when I was working in construction.
 

I quickly walked up to him and gave him a hug. To my surprise he told me he was working security that night for Art Lucier’s event. Suddenly all my anxiety lifted and I was filled with peace. The fact that the person in charge of security was a trusted friend gave me confidence. I knew nothing violent was going to happen and I would be protected if there was any confrontation. I felt like God had provided me with my own Arnold Schwarzenegger bodyguard.
 

There were three other people I had never met before actively protesting while people entered the venue. I saw many faces I knew in the community, even a few pastors who shook my hand as they went inside. But I yelled at the top of my lungs by the door so that Art Lucier could hear me clearly: “Pastors don’t buy street heroin. My brother died.”

Everyone who walked into that event knew I was there because of the street heroin and Art Lucier’s actions. A few people defended him but many attendees did not understand what I was protesting.
 

Art Lucier never came out to talk with me. I was prepared to speak with him face to face and even shake his hand. I got there early so he had every opportunity to speak with me before anyone else showed up.
 

In fact, I was one of the first people there. All he had to do was apologize for the misinformation and take down his videos. Maybe show compassion for the loss of my brother. But Art Lucier did not come out and I never got to meet him.
 

After everyone entered the building, the doors closed, and my protest for the night ended. I met a retired lady there for the first time that night. Sadly, someone in her family had also overdosed on drugs. It was an emotional night for both of us. I remembered my brother, and she remembered her own loss. We connected with a special bond. She offered me a ride back to my tent in the woods, and I accepted. We prayed together for her family.
 

A local reporter, Wolf Depner of the Peninsula News Review, mentioned me in his article covering the event. He described me as a street minister from Victoria who works with the homeless and volunteers with The Mustard Seed Street Church. He also noted that I attended in memory of my late brother who died of a drug overdose and that I believed Art Lucier’s message was dangerous within Canadian charismatic circles.
 

Two weeks later, on November 22, 2019, I watched a Facebook video in the library showing Art Lucier speaking at Reformation House during another Battle for Canada event. In that livestream, he began talking about my ministry publicly. He claimed there had been ten protesters outside his Victoria meeting, saying that one “his buddy, he was a witch” and connected to “New Age people.” He also told the crowd that I hated all denominations, which was false.
 

Video transcript excerpts from Art Lucier at Reformation House Church Facebook livestream:
 

“Let me just say something. We, I know the guy phoned here. There was a guy who phoned leadership here. I’m being accused of a fraud in the nation, but it’s by one guy, and he’s, phoning people and saying, ‘Do you know that Art Lucier is being investigated for fraud?’
 

He fails to say he’s the one who’s actually investigating me. He’s an ex-con, uh, a guy from a different denomination that hates every other denomination, and he, he actually calls himself a watchdog trying to take down false ministries…

Um, so I mean, if he goes back, I mean, 31 years ago as a drug dealer in the streets of Terrace, and then go back a little further, you’ll find bunch, but, um, we’re not being investigated for fraud. All of our books are open, and, um, you know, anyway, I’m just throwing that out there, not that I have to defend myself, but you just never know. The enemy gets in there and says, ‘Don’t you know that her?’ It’s like, yeah, he, he’s the one investigating this guy.
 

He was actually showed up at our Run to the Battle Victoria two weeks ago. He was outside, and his buddy, he was a witch, came to show and support, and eight other New Age guys. Um, 10 protesters outside of Run to the Battle Victoria, and I should have went out there and gave him a hug, but I was busy inside anyway.”
 

I have always considered myself an interdenominational minister who works alongside believers from every Christian tradition. My background and theology are Pentecostal, and my calling has always been to build bridges, not walls.
 

In his livestream, Art Lucier continued his narrative by repeating that he was “under investigation for fraud,” and he suggested that I was the one investigating him. He still did not address the real issue behind my protest, the street heroin crisis. He said nothing about the thousands dying from fentanyl, or the fact that I stood outside that meeting holding a sign in memory of my brother.
 

Instead, he framed the event as spiritual opposition, describing me as someone connected to witches, rather than recognizing it as a call for accountability and compassion.
 

As I watched the video I typed up a list of retractions and sent them to him and to the Kelowna Harvest Church leadership. I asked him to read them publicly and to take down the video “The Day I Brought Home a Hooker,” which, as I write this in 2025, is still online.
 

Only eleven days later, on December 3, 2019, Art went live on Facebook again for a thirty-three-minute video. In that livestream he mentioned a few of my retraction points but used mockery to minimize my concerns.
 

He even questioned my mental health publicly. Inside the comments, which I recorded, many people repeated that I was filled with witchcraft or partnered with witches. Some of the comments came from church leaders. Chris Biernacki wrote “Ha ha ha,” while Marc Brisebois commented that Art should ignore me, adding that sometimes the best approach is not to focus on critics.
 

As I sat in the library watching that livestream I was not angry but sickened. At that time I had zero subscribers on YouTube and did not own a phone or a camera. I had no money at all and was volunteering at the food bank to support my ministry. I had almost no access to social media. I was trusting God for my daily bread.
 

Meanwhile Art was a national leader running a million-dollar ministry that flew him across Canada. He stayed in hotels and had a full media team with employees, websites, and platforms. He had every resource to shape a narrative while I was simply trying to serve God and tell the truth. I was extremely worried that he would continue to buy heroin or that one of his viewers would see his video and buy street heroin in an attempt to help someone.
 

In his livestream he confirmed that his church gave money for a girl to get off drugs and that she eventually got on the methadone program. He also told his viewers that the reason I protested him was because of the heroin. I had done everything I could to expose this man and his actions, yet I was unable to get him to take down any of his videos.
 

When I watched him mock me publicly I understood what it meant for my calling. This was not going to be a footnote in my advocacy. It would be central. You cannot stand by while a church leader shows willful ignorance and defiance in the face of reckless behavior. Somebody has to stand up for the vulnerable, the people trapped in addiction who have no power and no voice.
 

As I scrolled the comments that day and saw the mockery firsthand, I realized how deep the blindness had become within parts of the charismatic movement.
 

I decided then that I would make this part of my story, not out of hatred but out of duty. The ignorance I saw could not be allowed to masquerade as ministry. Men like Art Lucier should never be doing street outreach, not when their actions put lives at risk. I resolved to use this as a teaching moment. I would expose what was happening, document it clearly, and make sure others could learn from it.
 

My intention is simple and unwavering. I will protect the vulnerable, teach the church, and ensure nobody can ignore this again. This will be a warning, a classroom, and a call to accountability in Canada, across North America, and in other languages if needed. This is not revenge. This is stewardship. Pastors do not buy street heroin and the church must be held to a higher standard.
 

My worst fears were confirmed in 2025 when a ministry partner of Art Lucier, Teena Marie Pridham, sent me her public confession in a Facebook message. She also publicly tagged me by name, John Elving, in a Facebook post, accusing me of twisting situations, a post that was widely shared across social media.
 

She wrote:

“[The young woman] was a heroin addict, wanted to get clean and come with us to Kitimat.
 

Has anyone ever worked with addicts before? Well, I have extensively downtown East Side out of UGM as well as taking them in my home. Especially heroin addicts. I also co-lead a street church downtown Kelowna.

They go through such intense withdrawal that can kill them if not done properly. I myself have witnessed outreach leaders, as well as myself, pay for an addict to get a fix so they are not sick just prior to them getting into detox or treatment, as there is often a waiting list.
 

When they get so sick they change their minds about wanting help and we lose them. Keeping them from getting sick until they can have the round-the-clock care they need to detox is often the course of action taken. Right or wrong, it is what it is. Talk to anyone who has worked on the streets and they will tell you this.”
 

When I read her words I froze. I was supposed to be at the gym that morning but everything stopped. I could not believe what I was seeing. She was publicly admitting that outreach leaders were purchasing heroin for addicts so they would not get sick before detox. 
 

I jumped into my car, drove to Staples to print screenshots, and headed straight to the police department. My heart was pounding. I have done too many funerals and seen too many overdoses. I was not about to stay silent while someone bragged online about buying toxic street drugs under the banner of helping people.
 

At the station I explained everything to the officer. I showed her the Facebook post, the screenshots, and Teena’s name. I told her about my work on the streets, how I have administered Narcan and held dying people in my arms. I said, “These people do not need street heroin. They need doctors, methadone, Suboxone, and real medical care.”
 

I also explained that this was not an isolated incident. There was an entire prophetic network claiming divine authority while engaging in reckless behavior. I was not filing the report out of anger but responsibility. I told the officer, “If someone dies from those drugs, it is manslaughter.” She agreed to file the report and said an investigator would follow up.
 

As I walked out I thought about all the lives already lost, my brother, my friends, and countless others. We are in a national crisis and the last thing we need are people pretending to be heroes while putting lives at risk. That day I made myself a promise. If anyone on social media admits to buying street drugs in the name of ministry, I will report it every time. True compassion does not kill people. It saves them.
 

The fear that drove me to protest Art’s reckless behavior had now become reality. In her own words Teena confirmed exactly what I warned would happen. That moment hit me like a thunderclap. The same pattern of deception and danger I had spoken out against was unfolding again, and it showed that Lucier’s influence was not only spiritually unhealthy but physically dangerous.
 

This kind of ministry distorts the law and mistakes harm for help. That realization renewed my resolve to speak out, document everything, and ensure the truth cannot be ignored again. This was never about a personal conflict with Art Lucier. It was about preventing tragedy. I have fought to bring this to light because of my brother and for every family who has lost a loved one. I will keep fighting so others will not have to endure the same loss.

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