Indiana Church Seizure Looms In Tax Dispute

Swaddled in sleeping bags, dozens of parishioners whose church was ordered seized in a dispute with the IRS spent the night inside its walls, awaiting the arrival of federal marshals.

An almost festive atmosphere prevailed late Tuesday night at the Indianapolis Baptist Temple, which experts believe could become the first church seized by the U.S. government in a dispute over taxes.

As a noon Tuesday deadline passed without any sign of federal marshals, hundreds of church members prayed, wept and sang "Faith of our Fathers." Their pastor remained defiant.

"They can take our church. They cannot take our convictions," the Rev. Greg A. Dixon, said from the pulpit to applause and shouts of "Amen!"

Dixon and his father, the Rev. Greg J. Dixon, who was pastor of the church for 41 years, have been locked in a 16-year dispute with the government in which they have questioned the authority of the IRS.

The church, with a 1,000-member congregation, stopped withholding federal income and Social Security taxes from the paychecks of its employees in 1984.

Church officials say their duty to obey God supersedes manmade laws, and that withholding taxes would make the church an agent of the government.

The younger Dixon said the workers have paid their own taxes.

On Sept. 28, U.S. District Judge Sarah Evans Barker ordered the surrender of the church, its school and parsonages to satisfy a lien of $6 million in back taxes, penalties and interest. The buildings could then be auctioned off.

Marshals Seize Parsonage

On Tuesday afternoon, federal marshals seized a parsonage a few miles from the church where the elder Dixon had lived for years.

The action came mid-afternoon Tuesday, authorities told 6 News.

"It was secured, and we turned it over to the court-appointed receivers. It's in their hands now," said U.S. Marshal Frank Anderson.

The parsonage was home to Dr. Greg, 68, and his wife, Wanda Dixon, 65, for 32 years.

"It's strange times when they can come in and just snatch a home out from under a family. I think it's wicked, very, very wicked. Yesterday the house was a home, today it's just a house," Wanda Dixon said.

Dr. Greg Dixon says he has had an easier time focusing on the big picture but for his wife, losing their home was personal.

"If you want me to be honest, I think it was vengeance on Judge Barker's part because she hates my husband," Wanda Dixon said.

At one time, the Dixons owned the home. They gave the home to the church so that they could avoid paying property taxes on the home.

"We were just desperate for every penny we could get our hands on and so that was an extra $2,500 to $3,000 a year going to property tax. We just felt we had to save if we could. So we deeded it back to the church. In essence we got caught. It was trapped along with the church property. We have to accept that as the will of God and go on with our lives," Greg Dixon said.

Dr. Greg and Wanda Dixon are staying with their son, who is the current pastor of the church. His home is not owned by the church so right now is in no danger of being seized.

Safety Is Top Priority

Anderson declined to say when the Marshals Service plan to seize the church and other property, saying only that it happen as quickly as possible.

"We do not want to jeopardize the safety of any of the members involved," Anderson said. "We don't want any type of confrontation."

Some people were worried about the possibility of violence after right-wing militia groups pledged to defend the church, but there were no signs of guns Tuesday.

More than 400 people, some from other faiths and some from as far away as Texas, began a prayer vigil one hour before Tuesday's deadline. One woman openly wept from her red, theater-style seat inside the sanctuary.

The Rev. Wiley Drake, a Southern Baptist minister from Orange County, Calif., led the gathering in prayer, saying he was sure God was not surprised by a series of recent federal court decisions against the Baptist Temple.

"We know you still stand with this church," Drake said, referring to God.

For most of the day, a revival-like atmosphere held forth in the church as hundreds of people sang hymns and shouted "Amen!" in response to a series of ministers who stepped up to the pulpit to preach.

The preacher has vowed to passively resist the seizure, but also has urged supporters including militia members not to resort to violence.

A gentleman in a pickup truck put a sign on a door of the church Tuesday morning that read: "Please don't turn this into another Waco, Texas."

Some church members have said they will not go willingly.

"I spent 13 years in the service of this country in the Air Force," church member Toby Digrugilliers said. "I served in this country so we can enjoy our liberties and freedom.

"Last time I checked we weren't Communist, but I'm beginning to wonder."

Rev. Greg A. Dixon said he hoped the ordeal would end soon.

"You can't cry and moan forever. You got to get up, knock the dust off and keep on moving. And that's what we're going to do," Dixon said.

Camped out

As darkness fell, about 150 people remained in the church. They dined on a fried chicken dinner while milling about and talking, and some even vacuumed the church's floors.

But by late Tuesday, about 50 people who brought sleeping bags and blankets and pillows with them remained in the church.

Most said they intended to wait all night if necessary for the marshals.

"This is my life," said 21-year-old Elizabeth Stadler, who attended the church school for 13 years. "I'm not going to give it up easily now."

The church has been stripped of hymnals, icons and religious paintings in anticipation of the seizure. Only seats and the pulpit remained in the sanctuary.

Inside the church, slogans on banners proclaimed, "Judge Sarah Evans Barker, God will not be mocked" and "Father, have mercy on them," followed by the names of William Rehnquist and John Paul Stevens.

"These walls are very dear to my heart," said 71-year-old Bill Thornburg of Greenwood, a church deacon. His three daughters graduated from the church school, and one of them got married at the church.

Shirley Ward, 44, was wrapping and packing things into boxes alongside other church women. Her 16-year-old daughter Rachel Ward, a junior in the church school, was wheeling a cart loaded with boxes out to a semi trailer to be loaded by other church members.

"All I know is whatever happens, it's God's will," Rachel Ward said.

The two U.S. Supreme Court justices in recent days had denied the Baptist Temple's request to delay enforcement of the seizure order.

Dixon's support among the thousand members of the independent Baptist congregation remained strong, despite the fight with the IRS.

Bill Chaney, 78, a retired bus and truck driver from nearby Southport, stood inside the sanctuary while his wife, Ruth, 74, sat in a seat. The couple had married there in February.

"I think we'll stay with him all the way," said Bill Chaney, wearing a jacket that identified him as a lifetime member of the National Rifle Association.

The congregation plans to hold services on Sunday at a high school.