Christian College Pres: "Pay Taxes!"

Christian College leader says taxes are part of religion
Hovind argues God's workers are exempt
mailto:AngelaFail@PensacolaNewsJournal.com

A local Christian leader on Thursday testified against Pensacola evangelist Kent Hovind, explaining the Bible does not condone tax evasion.

Rebekah Horton, Pensacola Christian College's longtime senior vice president, took the stand during the second day of testimony at the federal trial.

Hovind, who calls himself "Dr. Dino," faces 58 charges. He is accused of evading $473,818 in federal income, Social Security and Medicare employee taxes at his Creation Science Evangelism Ministry, which includes Dinosaur Adventure Land on North Palafox Street, a creationist theme park dedicated to debunking evolution.

His wife, Jo, also is on trial, accused of contributing to the fraud by making 45 bank transactions in a little more than a year in an effort to make the money untraceable.

Hovind believes he and his employees work for God, are paid by God and therefore aren't subject to taxation.

But Horton said whether Hovind works for God is irrelevant and the Bible does not exempt anyone from paying taxes.

"We know the Scriptures do not promote (tax evasion)," she said. "It's against Scripture teaching."

Horton first heard of Hovind's beliefs about taxes in the mid 1990s.

A woman gave Horton a videotape. The woman received it when she worked for Hovind.

The video featured another evangelist advocating tax evasion, Horton said. The woman told Horton of Hovind's philosophy on paying his employees.

"She said, 'You were giving a gift with your work, and they were giving a gift back to you,' " Horton said.

Horton said her first concern was that the woman was breaking the law. Horton also testified she was concerned about Pensacola Christian College students who worked at Hovind's ministry.

"The day could come when you're going to be in trouble," she told the woman. "Because Mr. Hovind is going to be in trouble."

Horton believed it was the college's duty to report the misleading doctrine. Administration called the Internal Revenue Service and gave the tape to officials, she said.

"I didn't want to see innocent people get led astray," she said.Pensacola Christian College then decided its students no longer were permitted to work with Creation Science Evangelism, Horton said.

Hovind sent her a letter, she said, and then visited her office.

On her desk, she kept note cards of Bible verses that contradicted Hovind's stance on taxes, including Romans 13, which discusses submission to authority and 1 Peter, Chapter 2, which refers to "submission to rulers and masters," she said.

"I didn't get into a debate with him," she said. "I just continued to refer to these verses."

Horton said she had "no ill feelings" toward Hovind. She just doesn't agree with him on the tax issue.

Defense attorney Alan Richey asked Horton if she had trouble with Hovind on other issues.

"It's not my place to judge him," she said.

The trial is scheduled to continue today at 8:30 a.m. before U.S. District Judge Casey Rodgers. It is expected to take at least two weeks to complete.

Hovind Trial Hears From Employees

Workers testify in 'Dr. Dino' trial
Amy Sowder@PensacolaNewsJournal.com

Two people who worked for a Pensacola evangelist testified Wednesday in federal court that they didn't consider where they worked to be a church.

Evangelist Kent "Dr. Dino" Hovind is accused of failing to pay $473,818 in federal income, Social Security and Medicare taxes for employees of his Creation Science Ministry between March 31, 2001, and Jan. 31, 2004.

Hovind has claimed he didn't have to pay the taxes because his employees were "volunteers," "missionaries" or "ministers" and his business was a ministry.

His wife, Jo Hovind, also is on trial, accused of contributing to the fraud by making 45 bank transactions in a little more than a year in an effort to make the money untraceable.

Hovind owns Dinosaur Adventure Land on North Palafox Street, a creationist theme park dedicated to debunking evolution.

The trial is being heard by U.S. District Judge Casey Rodgers and is expected to take at least two weeks to complete.

Alan Richey is Kent Hovind's defense attorney, and Michelle Heldmyer is the prosecutor. They used government documents, letters and recorded phone conversations on Wednesday to question four witnesses.

Brian Popp, Hovind's employee for at least eight years, testified that he preferred to be paid in cash and that Hovind said that was the preference of the other employees.

"He said if it was up to him, he'd prefer to pay us all with checks," Popp said.

Popp said Hovind told him about the bank's requirement to report transactions over $10,000 and said it was "not safe to carry large sums of cash."

He also testified employees had a certain "paranoia" about Hovind's run-ins with the IRS, although workers were under the impression Hovind was "on the offensive rather than the defensive."

Popp testified that Hovind warned employees not to accept mail addressed to "KENT HOVIND." He said Hovind told the workers the government created a corporation in his "all-caps name." Hovind said if he accepted the mail, he would be accepting the responsibilities associated with that corporation, Popp testified.

Heldmyer asked Popp to read from ministry memos that referred to the workers as "employees" and included rules about timeliness, payroll, vacation days and salaries.

Richey pointed out the ministerial aspects of the memo, including references to Scripture and "helping to promote Christ."

Popp said the memos didn't always paint a clear picture of the inner workings of the ministry.

"There was sometimes a difference between memos and how we'd actually operate," he said.

Although Popp considered himself a minister at the time of his employment, he said Hovind's ministry isn't a church.

"It wasn't what I had become accustomed to be a church," he said.

Diane P. Cooksey, who was a sales representative for the ministry from January 2003 to June 2005, testified she was expected to pay her own taxes.

"He explained what his belief was, right up front in the interview, that I would pay my own taxes," she testified.

She received her hourly wage of $10 in a weekly paycheck, she punched a time clock, had 10 paid vacation days and considered herself an employee, not a missionary as a few others called themselves, she said.

Cooksey testified she never received a W-2 or 1099 tax form for the money she made.

"I didn't see it as a church, personally," she said, adding that on occasion, materials were given for free to missionaries and prisons.

After the Dinosaur Adventure Land was raided on April 2004, Kent Hovind required his employees to sign nondisclosure agreements if they wanted to keep their jobs, she said.

"I was uncomfortable signing it, I guess, because of not having a full understanding," Cooksey said.

M.C. Powe, an IRS officer who investigates people who have unpaid tax returns or unpaid tax liabilities, testified she first attempted to collect taxes from the Hovinds in 1996.

Kent Hovind was not home at the time, so she gave his wife a summons and taxpayer rights brochure.

Powe said she then received a letter from Hovind that stated: "... this summons indicates that you assume I am a 'taxpayer' per the IRS code."

Hovind denied in the letter that he was a tax protester, saying instead he was a steward over the property of the Lord, she testified.

Powe said Hovind never showed up at the appointed time and she returned to the home. When she learned Kent Hovind wasn't home again, she informed Jo Hovind that their vehicles would be seized.

"Because he traveled around a lot, I thought he would move his assets beyond our reach," she said.

Hovind tried several bullying tactics against her, Powe testified. A recording that Hovind made of a phone conversation was then played. In the phone conversation, Hovind tried to make an appointment with Powe by 10 a.m. that day. When Powe said she couldn't meet him because she had a staff meeting, Hovind threatened to sue her, which he did.

"Dr. Hovind sued me three times, maybe more," Powe testified. "It just seemed to be something he did often."

She testified that the cases were dismissed.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Benjamin Beard, who handled Hovind's bankruptcy, filed after his vehicles were seized by the IRS, testified that Hovind opted for the Chapter 13 "wage-earner plan," available only to those who have a regular source of income.

In his bankruptcy forms, Hovind wrote that he had no form of income, that he rejected his Social Security number and that his employer was God, Beard testified.

"That gives you a warning sign," Beard said.

Staff writer Angela Fail contributed to this report.

Kent Hovind is in T-R-O-U-B-L-E

Evangelist's trial begins
Dinosaur Adventure Land owner, wife face 58 counts of tax fraud
Angela Fail@PensacolaNewsJournal.com

Defense attorneys said it's a case of a Pensacola couple's ignorance of the law and their religious beliefs.

A federal prosecutor said it's a case of a couple refusing to pay payroll taxes for their employees.

Opening statements began Tuesday in the trial of Pensacola evangelist Kent Hovind and his wife, Jo. Between them, the Hovinds are charged with 58 counts of tax fraud involving their Creation Science Ministry. The ministry includes Dinosaur Adventure Land on North Palafox Street, a creationist theme park dedicated to debunking evolution.

Twelve jurors and two alternates were selected Tuesday to hear the case that could take two weeks. The trial is expected to continue at 8:30 a.m. today before U.S. District Judge Casey Rodgers.Prosecutor Michelle Heldmeyer said Hovind, also known as "Dr. Dino," failed to pay about $470,000 in federal income, Social Security and Medicare taxes for his ministry employees between March 31, 2001, and Jan. 31, 2004.

She said Jo Hovind contributed to the fraud by withdrawing thousands of dollars in cash from the ministry's bank account so the money could not be traced. She made 45 transactions in a little more than a year, sometimes taking out as much as $9,500 at a time. Banks are required to report cash withdrawals that exceed $10,000.

"The Hovinds ran a business," Heldmeyer told the jury. "All employers are required to contribute to those systems."

Both Kent and Jo Hovind pleaded not guilty in July.

Defense attorney Alan Richey said Hovind was unaware of the laws he was charged with breaking. He said no one from the Internal Revenue Service ever notified Hovind he was breaking the law.

"The government, the IRS, has taken its time trying to find a way to come after Mr. Hovind," he said.

Heldmeyer said from 1999 to March 2004, the Hovinds took in more than $5 million. Their income came from amusement-park profits and merchandise -- books, audiotapes and videotapes -- they sold on site and through phone and online orders, she said. About half the money went to employees.

Those employees either were salaried or were paid hourly wages. They worked set hours. They signed up for vacations and sick leave.

But rather than accepting his responsibility as an employer, Hovind hid behind terminology, Heldmeyer said.

He called his employees "volunteers," "missionaries" or "ministers," she said. Wages were referred to as "gifts" or "love offerings."

Employees then became responsible for paying Hovind's portion of the income tax, she said.And though the Hovinds refer to their business as a ministry, it's not affiliated with a church, she said."It's not a church," she said. "

But that doesn't matter, because a church still has to pay payroll tax."

Hovind attempted to manipulate funds from the start of his ministry, she said.

In 1996, he filed for bankruptcy, a move Heldmeyer said Hovind designed to prevent the IRS from collecting taxes.

The IRS later determined Hovind filed under an "evil purpose," Heldmeyer said.

She called Hovind a "very loud and vocal tax protester," recalling a number of lawsuits he filed against the IRS over the past decade. Each was deemed frivolous and was thrown out, she said.

And on April 13, 2004, when IRS officials issued a search warrant for Hovind's property, he resisted."

It was a very difficult day," she said.Richey and Jerold Barringer, Jo Hovind's attorney, told a different story.

Richey said IRS agents stepped outside their authority that day, interrogating employees and confiscating records and money."

For the government, it's OK if they're extreme," he said.

He called Hovind a literalist who takes every word of the Bible as truth.

Barringer said the Hovinds have specific religious beliefs that should be respected."

Mr. Hovind believes what the Bible says," he said. "

Most Christians do, as well.

"He said when Hovind traveled the country sometimes 250 days out of the year, Jo Hovind served as a "housewife" who was "simply helping people in the office.""

"The government is flinging a lot of mud, trying to make him look dirty," Richey said. "And his wife -- a piano teacher of 20 years -- they're trying to make her look dirty, too."

Taking It to the Farms

Back in August I completed my second big road-trip, on my way to visiting all major creationist museums and most of the minor ones. I came away convinced of something which has become lost in our modern-day perspective, and that is simply how vitally important it is to be able to breach the disonnect between urban and countryside mentality.

Let's look through a wide-angle lens for a moment: Major cities are hubs for secular thinking, made necessary due to a need for respect for all different walks of life, diverse religious and non-religious views, skin colors and ancestral nationalities. Everywhere media outlets of all sorts super-saturate people with ideas, issues, and debates. It's a wonderful free-for-all exchange of brainwaves! Is it any wonder that the old, outmoded superstitions of religion have a hard time surviving here?

Now look at the American countryside. Small homes, small communities, even smaller leaders, and everywhere, everywhere, is the standard of Christianity, of Jesus Christ, of Southern Baptists and Pentecostals. There isn't much media here. The small-town folk have no time to listen to talk radio during a non-existing commute to work, and don't see the point in wasting their money on cable television -- if they can even get it. If they can, they often glue their eyes onto the Trinity Broadcasting Network. Free exchange of ideas? That's for shake-the-boat radicals! Is it any wonder so many city-slickers refer to these areas as "flyover states?"

One of the most beautiful areas I visited was the Ozark mountain region of Northern Arkansas. Paradise! Except for one thing: People seem to think it's latter-day Israel.

I went there looking for a creation museum. And I found it, all right. But it was neatly nestled inside of what I can only describe as a Christian Disneyworld. "The Great Passion Play," it was called -- an exhibition which shows itself many times weekly inside an ampitheater built right into the side of one of the Ozark mountains. Around the theater, an entire industry of shops, rides, childrens' areas, and exhibits. There was a Christian History museum, a Bible museum, and, finally, a creation museum. And overlooking it all, a large statue called "Christ of the Ozarks," reminiscent of the large statue of Jesus overlooking Rio De Janeiro -- except this one is far, far uglier.

For brevity, I'll ignore how ridiculous the creation museum itself was. (It took only 20 steps to go through the entire structure! And the most substantive disply featured the creationist joke-argument of 'Piltdown Man!') Instead, I'll focus on the question it brought home to me: Why is it that rural America is so Christian? Why do cities "get it," and townships don't?

The question was made even more weighty before that point when, for the first time in my life, I actually toured the grounds of Oral Roberts University, exactly one day before I'd reached Arkansas. Talk about sheer arrogant avarice! Perfectly manicured grounds amidst towering skyscrapers housing "Full Gospel Business." Expensive bronze statues adorned even more expensive gardens, and cathedrals which were ornate than the Champs-Elysees. There were marble -- marble, mind you! -- fountains with flames amidst them, huge dormitory complexes, and a rather welcome-looking baseball stadium. All for God. And in the middle of it all, the much-described "prayer tower." A structure which resembles a high, narrow, radio-telescope, stretching high into the air -- almost as if flipping nature the bird.

So why is the city so different? Why is the countryside of modern-day-Rome still languishing in the Dark Ages?

The answer, I think, has to do with a common occurrence in American history which forever scarred -- er, I mean, changed -- the country. That common event, was the campmeeting. Structured weekly, made into a major event which drew farmers out of their fields and into large tents, campmeetings once featured the best in entertainment ninteenth century America had to offer. It gave people good memories. It gave them religion. And the present-day result of this is that religion is now so deeply ingrained in America's skin that it has become a tatoo -- a permanent mark that cannot be removed.

Well, almost. If traveling evangelists could rub it in, traveling debunkers can rub it out. We need to take evolution to the Farm!

But is it justifiable to evangelize in the name of stamping out fundamentalism? Probably not. But one hardly needs justification if one is invited. Just let it slip that you're willing to debate them, anytime, anywhere, and they'll beg you to come out to their church or Sunday school, just so they can crucify you in effigy. It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it.

Only a specialist in this sort of thing should even try it. I may be just that sort of specialist, being a theologian and not a scientist. But am I up to it?

Let's find out. Bring it on, creationists!