The IRS exorcised the ministry's tax-exempt status in 1984, but the church regained it.

The IRS is aware of some improprieties in mail-order ministries, said Jesse Weller, a California IRS spokesman.

"Over the years, some mail-order ministers have tried to avoid taxes by deducting personal expenses, such as claiming that a personal vacation was a religious retreat. One went to a football game, stood up in the crowd, preached a few minutes, then deducted the cost of tickets as a proselytizing event."

Those using the service as a tax shelter should beware.

"Being ordained doesn't make your income nontaxable. Real ministers pay taxes, and if you work at a regular job the income doesn't become nontaxable just because you're a minister, mail-order or not."

Because of the separation of church and state, the Attorney General's Office rarely acts except in egregious situations.

"Our regulatory and law enforcement purview over religious nonprofits is close to nonexistent," said Tom Dresslar, spokesman for Attorney General Bill Lockyer.

Interest remains steady in Universal Life ordinations, with spikes during national events. Hensley saw a surge when same-sex couples rushed to San Francisco and Portland, Ore., to wed. They needed officiants fast.

He estimates Christians take 90 percent to 95 percent of certificates.

Those seeking a certificate often want to perform marriages for family or friends, Hensley said.

David Reed of Oakland, Calif., got his mail-order certificate about 25 years ago.

"I was sort of attracted by the aspect of being a significant person in other people's lives," he said.

Reed has officiated at three or four weddings.

His sister's commitment ceremony to her lesbian partner solidified his desire to become a minister.

"It helped me realize how important it is for people who feel like they're not comfortable with formalized church or if it's not legally recognizable."

Two years ago, he officiated at his son's wedding. "Marrying my son was special to me."

Others say they received a calling and contacted Universal Life Church.

That's the case for demon-buster Stahl. The former karaoke singer and ex-member of a comedic traffic-school troupe in San Francisco awoke one day and decided his life needed to change.

"It was a definite calling where God had spoken to me. I just woke up and knew that was what I needed to do."

Not everyone takes him seriously, he acknowledges.

"The exorcism is pretty popular. There are some people who laugh at it."

The church does serve a higher purpose, he said.