Don't Call Me Brother: A Ringmaster's Escape from the Pentecostal Church

by Austin Miles

Austin Miles has been a well-known circus ringmaster for most of his adult life. It was, he found, good preparation for his experiences with PTL and the Assemblies of God churches. Miles is the first ordained Assembly of God minister to leave the movement and write an in-depth book revealing the inner workings of this sect. This is not rumor, not innuendo. It is fact, seen first-hand, and fully described for the first time. Don't Call Me Brother is not a book written by an outside observer - Austin Miles was an active participant in the evolution of the PTL Club.- Austin Miles was on intimate terms with the entire cast of PTL's characters and the high-tech world of Christian movers and Jim Bakker, Tammy Faye Bakker, Pat Robertson, Charles and Frances Hunter, Richard Dortch, John Wesley Fletcher, Christian celebreties such as Pat Boone and Ephram Zimbalist, Jr., and many others.- Austin Miles opened the door on the steam room where Jim Bakker was cavorting - in the nude - with three other men.- Austin Miles was there when televangelism hatched its super-successful fund-raising schemes, and he participated in the staged "financial crisis" telethon, during which millions of dollars poured into the coffers of the PTL Club.- Austin Miles watched the development of Jim Bakker's violent mood swings and saw the chilling possibility that Jim Bakker could have become another Jim Jones.- Austin Miles was there when Jim Bakker started a fist fight with his producer over the favors of the current Miss America.Austin Miles had fame, wealth, and a wonderful family. But by the time he finally broke free of the fanatic world of the religious right, he had lost everything. Don't Call Me Brother is his story. A poignant, outrageous, sometimes hilarious drama peopled with colorful real-life characters. Building to a climax with a surprise double-twist ending, this story is tough but fair, a must-read for those who want to know what really happens in the world of America's media-glitzed charismatic religions.

Genres: Nonfiction

331 pages, Hardcover

First published April 1, 1989

Reviews

[Dom · Rating 4 out of 5]

As if I needed more fuel for my fire against the Evangelical church. Well-written story, very eerie and troubling too.

[Jason · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pentecostal Christianity is just over one hundred years old. It originated in the post-Confederate South and emphasized the “presence of the Holy Spirit” as its followers would say. This includes music and singing, faith healing, and glossolalia or speaking in tongues, an altered state of consciousness in which a church-goer gets possessed by the Holy Spirit and vocalizes nonsensical sounds. Speaking in tongues is rooted in West African culture and is something that was brought over by slave communities then appropriated by white Christian Revivalists. All this is directed by the pastor of the church, a fiery speaker who brings the emotional pitch of the congregation up to an extreme. The circus, of course, is an entertainment tradition that dates back at least to the Roman Empire. The show is conducted by the ringmaster in tuxedo and stovepipe hat. So when a ringmaster becomes the preacher at a Pentecostal church, the lines between religion and entertainment get blurred. This is what happens in Austin Miles’ autobiography Don’t Call Me Brother.

Austin Miles had a miserable childhood. He came from a broken family in Indiana and ran away to join the circus when he was a teenager. As a clown, he took to the carny life with ease, being impressed with the showmanship and spectacle of the performances and the colorful characters who lived the transient circus life offstage. It was a traveling village of multi-ethnic misfits with talent. Miles moved on to become a ringmaster as he matured and again, he had a natural talent for it.
He met his wife Rose Marie in New York City. After marriage, they traveled to Switzerland to meet her aristocratic family who didn’t readily approve of him. These details of the marriage are interesting up to a point, but Miles dwells on his time in Switzerland with the family for far too long to serve the purposes of this story.

When they settle back in New York, Miles’ daughter from a previous marriage comes to live with them and everything is great, at least for a little while. Behind the scenes of the circus, a creepy German trapeze artist named Bobby Yerkes begins proselytizing Christianity to Austin Miles. Then something strange happens at a circus performance in the Bible Belt state of Tennessee. When the show is about to begin, a man in the audience has a heart attack. Being the good ringmaster he is, he asks the audience to pray for the victim’s recovery. Being a leader in such a venue means keeping the audience’s mind alert at down times like this so they don’t fret and ruin the whole show with a soured attitude. The next day, Miles learns the man recovered from his heat attack. The ringmaster attributes this to the prayer and then decides to convert to Christianity. Of course, not everybody who has a heart attack dies. But this is proof enough so Austin Miles approaches Bobby Yerkes and throws himself headfirst into the world of fundamentalist Christianity. He later learns that Yerkes is a pervert.

When the Assemblies of God ministries learn that a circus ringmaster has converted to Christianity, they see green and ask him to become a pastor. Enticed by the lure of the religious spotlight, Miles can’t resist. He meets with high level officials, let’s call them businessmen, and begins touring the country to give church services. Finally he meets up with Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker and becomes regular guest on their fledgling PTL Club TV show, helping to usher in the age of televangelists. The transition from circus performer to Christian evangelist is an easy one to see. In comparison to the dour and dust-dry congregations of the Protestant denominations and the solemn, downbeat masses of Catholicism, Charismatic Christianity offers an emotionally charged performance with audience participation, histrionic sermons, stimulating music, and intense visual displays of faith healing and glossolalia. The draw is that it is more of spectacle than traditional religions. Christian theology is never discussed. In a media and entertainment saturated culture like the United States of America, Pentecostalism has an advantage. The PTL Club becomes just one choice of TV shows out of a handful of others in the days when cable TV was beginning. Channel surfing rubes might pause as they run through their options when they see the showmanship of a faith healing, a band playing, or, an exorcism complete with demonic voices and foaming mouths straight out of The Exorcist.

Life starts going south for Austin Miles quickly. His wife Rose Marie rejects the Pentecostal church and eventually this drives a wedge between them that results in a nasty and humiliating divorce. His daughter converts to the church, but they later convince her that her father is satanic so she refuses to have anything to do with him.

Aside from the destruction of his family, Miles gets a behind-the-scenes view of what goes on in the shadows of Assemblies of God. The organization is little more than a Reagan era corporation complete with a board of directors and tax-free status because they are registered as a religious organization. The higher ups live lavishly in mansions, own private airplanes, and fleets of Mercedes Benzes. Miles’ work as a circus performer is cut out for him when they open Heritage U.S.A., a Disneyworld like theme park for born again Christians. By the end of the 1980s, financial scandals are tearing Assemblies of God apart; charges of tax evasion, fraud, and financial mishandling are rampant. Sexual scandals of all kinds are revealed too, including adultery, pedophilia, prostitution, wife swapping, and gay sex. Jim Bakker’s involvement in gay sex orgies and his affair with Jessica Hahn ruin his career.

Austin Miles has his own personal misgivings too. Tithing, or the donation of money to the church, is prioritized over all other religious practices. He learns that people being healed in faith healings are often shills. He also learns that ordinary stage magic is being used by some pastors to demonstrate their gift for performing miracles. With hindsight he knew all this is happening, but he doesn’t listen to his conscience because he feels he is doing something to help his congregations.

The darkest, and possibly the least credible, part of Miles’ story is that he thinks there is a conspiracy against him. For reasons he can’t understand, the Assemblies of God churches start to shun him. Vicious rumors about his immoral conduct spread and his engagements at preaching gigs are canceled one after the other. He believes he is being persecuted and blames the FBI. He claims his first wife, who he otherwise says nothing about, gave him a diary that proves the government assassinated Marilyn Monroe. That diary has since disappeared. Therefore the FBI is pulling strings with the Pentecostals to ruin his career as a pastor. This whole story sounds suspicious to me as if he is peddling a conspiracy theory to cover up some dirt he has in his past. This makes me wonder how much of his story is actually true. I suppose a lot of it is, considering the accusations he makes against Assemblies of God are easily corroborated in other sources, but I wonder if he isn’t being sufficiently forthright about other things he might have done. Anyhow, Austin Miles quits the church and successfully resumes his career as a ringmaster. If the FBI really wanted to ruin him, why didn’t they interfere with his circuses? Or true to form, why didn’t they just disappear him like you wold expect?

Aside from the conspiracy theory, possibly relayed in bad faith, the worst part of this book is its tendency to give long lists of bad things being done by the Pentecostals. Miles keeps repeating stories of scandals in different branches of the ministries, but it reads like the same story over and over again, just happening in different places with different people. Austin Miles also spends too much time on his private life outside the church. While his relations with his wife and family are relevant, the excessive detail he gives on these matters is overdone to the point where I just wish he would get on with the story and tell us about something more exciting.

The better side of this book is that it brings you close to the people caught in this Christian cult. It is an insider’s view of a lifestyle I can only see from an outsider’s view and. to be frank, I wouldn’t want to see this from the inside anyways. It is easy to dismiss Christian fundamentalists as a bunch of lunatics, but Miles shows us how even the worst of these grifters have a human side. They worry about their children’s future, they struggle with their marriages, they have health problems, a lot of them are having a hard time being comfortable with their sexual orientation. They care for each other and offer emotional support I times of distress. It shows how sad it is that so many gullible people get caught up in this religion-for-profit ponzi scheme. Some of them are born and raised with Evangelical Christianity. Some fall into it because the harsh circumstances of an uncertain world drive them to a place of comfort. Once inside that comfort zone, they are trapped by indoctrination, social conditioning, and the magical belief that giving all their money away will come back to them in the form of spiritual grace and healing. If they ever speak out against the wrong doings of the church, they get chewed up and spat out without mercy.

Assemblies of God and the PTL Club are a corporate den of thieves and the domain of narcissists and con men. It is an overblown version of the Southern revival tents which are only one step away from the carnival midway. The marks are unable or unwilling to admit that the pastor in the thousand dollar suit is a money grubbing charlatan just as much as the bearded lady in the circus sideshow is nothing more than a bearded man wearing make up and a dress.

The psychological profile we get of Austin Miles is interesting too. On one hand, he presents himself as a true believer in the gospel and someone who genuinely believes he is the only real person in a religion full of fakes. But having said that, you have to question why he played the game for so long. He is also quite an egomaniac who never shrinks from an opportunity to be in the spotlight whether that means preaching, being a ringmaster in the big top, doing radio interviews, or making television appearances with Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker. In one passage, it is the first Christmas Eve he spends alone because his wife Rose Marie has left him. To cheer himself up, he wraps Bibles in wrapping paper and walks around Times Square handing them out to needy looking people. One woman is shivering because her coat is too thin for the winter, but all Miles can think of is how grateful she and the other recipients are because he gave them a Bible. It’s little more than a big ego trip for him to show how generous he is for proselytizing his religion. I’m sure the woman would have been a lot more grateful if he had given her a coat that was heavy enough to keep her warm, but that thought probably never crossed his mind. He is the typical kind of person who seeks out fame and popularity because he didn’t feel loved when he was a child. Still, he isn’t an unsympathetic character. He certainly isn’t a bad person. He is more like a lost soul who thought he found himself and then suffered terribly when the illusion wore off. That could happen to any of us considering we can never know for sure if we are ultimately doing the right thing or not.

Don’t Call Me Brother is good for what it is. The story is predictable and Austin Miles is an amateurish writer. But the meaning of it rings true. In the year 2025 when Prosperity Gospel megachurches are fleecing people all around and the Pentecostals are in the White House whispering into the ear of the worst president in American history, it is a message that needs to be heard more than ever.

[Steven H · Rating 5 out of 5]

A PROMINENT FIGURE IN THE PTL/PENTECOSTAL MOVEMENT ‘COMES CLEAN’

Austin Miles was a circus ringmaster, as well as an Assemblies of God minister for 10 years. He was a frequent guest on Jim Bakker’s original PTL show (he was even Bakker’s first ‘celebrity guest’). His second book, ‘Set the Captives Free,’ is a collection of letters he received after publishing this book (mostly lamenting their negative experiences in religion), and his responses to them.

[NOTE: According to a very helpful article on the ‘Tekton Apologetics’ website, Miles later ‘RE-converted,' and returned to Christianity, and even to the ministry. His obituary (1933-2023) describes him as “Reverend,” and the photograph shows him in clerical garb.]

Miles wrote in the introductory page of this 1989 book, “It was a mistake. I made a fool of myself. I was taken. Using and quoting the Bible, they twisted my mind so badly that I was motivated to do some pretty stupid things I would never even think of in my right mind. Regrettably, in my ‘born again’ Christian piety, I said some cruel things that hurt and confused many decent people, including my own wife. What’s worse, I was certain I had ALL the answers as a minister. Unfortunately, others will continue to make the same mistakes.”

He notes, “I knew a thing or two about J. Edgar Hoover, the late head of the FBI. He was the most ruthless, despicable, power-mad individual who ever inhabited Washington D.C. Suspicions about his bizarre sexual perversions were confirmed by the revolting pornography collection found in his home after his death. The great personifier of truth, justice, and the American way of life had ben an unbridled homosexual! He had wrought so much havoc in my life that I had been driven to change my name to get away from him. And my stepfather’s death four years earlier had most likely been hastened by the stress caused by [an FBI agent’s] constant harassment of my family in Evansville---done under the direct orders of J. Edgar Hoover.” (Pg. 105)

After he had been ordained in the AOG, he noticed that a particular minister was not in attendance at a meeting, and he was told that the man had died, and that “He was caught in an improper relationship with a church organist and has been dismissed. It had been going on for some time.” Miles reflects, “I was stunned. At the very moment that [this man] was passing judgment on me to determine my ‘fitness’ for the ministry, he had been engaged in an unusually sordid adultery.” (Pg. 123)

He reports, “I became increasingly aware of the astonishing prevalence of homosexuality among Assemblies of God ministers… I began to take special note of this sort of behavior in minsters as I went from church to church all over the United States and Canada…. Incidents of Assemblies’ ministers found patronizing prostitutes were on the rise. But that kind of sordid behavior tended to remain hidden, unless rivalries among preachers provided someone an incentive to expose the offending minister. Even though I had become aware of the sexual perversion rampant among the ministers, I was still so wrapped up in the church that I rationalized it all away.” (Pg. 149)

While in the ministry, he bought a fancy new Mercedes (with ‘my show business money’), and asked a fellow minister whether he should park it out of sight, because ‘I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.’ But he was told, ‘On the contrary, leave it right here in front, so they do see it. They’ll probably put more money in the offering when they see it.’ ‘That night’s extremely generous offering proved that Reverend Cooke knew his business. That elegant car helped convince the faithful that I was one of God’s more important representatives.’” (Pg. 165)

He recounts, “Investigative reporter Jack Anderson [revealed that] … The Reverend Thomas F. Zimmerman [AOG General Superintendent] had been exposed manipulating the funds of the Assemblies of God for his own personal gain… In hindsight, the trail of dishonest denials, resignations, and changes in the denomination’s procedures in the face of public assurances that none were needed provide a good road map of the scandal…” (Pg. 184-185)

He recounts that “Reverend R.D.E. Smith, Executive Presbyter of the Assemblies of God church… was informing me that I should preach the very opposite of what I believed if that would keep peace with a host pastor. My next surprise was on its way. Word had spread throughout the ‘Charismatics’ in the Rockford area about the miraculous healing that had occurred when I preached at First Assembly. New people were coming to the church, wanting to see more of the same. Many Roman Catholics were coming to First Assembly on that account. Catholics can be the most trusting and vulnerable people of all to that sort of ministry, acclimated, as they are, at an early age to the notion of miracles. They were especially open to accept miracles and support any place of worship giving them credence.” (Pg. 205)

He notes that “The 1985 national convention of the Assemblies of God… produced an unexpected jolt for Reverend Thomas F. Zimmerman. He was overwhelmingly voted out as General Superintendent.” (Pg. 282)

He encounters Bob Elliott, who “had worked on my ‘You Are Special’ television show in Detroit,” and Bob told him, “I’ve been trying to find you for five years. I… asked Tom Zimmerman if he had any idea what had happened to you. And---would you believe it?---he said, ‘The last I heard is that he’s back in the circus with all the rest of the freaks.’” (Pg. 282)

He recalls his conversation with Bob, who asked him, “‘What about your ministry?’ ‘Oh, there is no more ministry. I’m not involved with any of that anymore. I wish I never had been.’ ‘But you still have a relationship with Christ.’ I shook my head no. Bob stopped. He looked hurt. ‘But you MUST... I’ve seen how God worked through you. You… still believe in God, don’t you?’ I looked at him expressionlessly, without answering. ‘Austin… I’ve seen miracles of healing take place in your ministry that defied medical science!... You’ve got to believe in God! How else could these things have happened?’ ‘I don’t know. I suppose I will never know what really happened. But that is all behind me now. A part of my past.’” (Pg. 283)

He concludes, “I will remain on spiritual R and R while it all gets worked out. I lost God in church. Maybe by leaving the church, I will get back to God. If I do, it will be a private matter. I believe religion was meant to be private. When Jesus ministered to individuals … all went well. It was only when He got involved in the synagogues---the organized church---and tried to minister that He got into trouble. And so be it.” (Pg. 316)

The 're-converted' Miles is obviously no longer a sterling ‘Ex-preacher' example to use for people who buy Prometheus Press books. But for an ‘insider’s’ perspective of some of the excesses and abuses of this era in televangelist history, his two books will still be of great interest.

[Megan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is sold as "Oh my god look at all of the horrible things PTL did" but spends the first 50% talking exclusively about Miles and his early years/first Born Again(tm) period. There's nothing wrong with that, if he wants to write an autobiography that's his business, but for god's sake tell people what they're getting.

I admit I didn't finish the book. I was turned off by the constant demonization of gay people. I know it was the time period it was written/the events happened in (you can tell because he just mentions gay people and expects you to clutch your pearls in horror), but I don't have to take it. I'll go back to reading Wikipedia summaries of the PTL nonsense, thank you very much.

Also Miles appears to have been Born Again Again(tm), and some say that you can see him post his conservative everything-phobic horseshit on his blog to this day.

[David Rice · Rating 4 out of 5]

Within this book the reader will find the sordid, frightening, squalid behavior of the professional Fundamentalist Christian cult business. The writer's revelations are not news to anyone paying attention to the criminal and abusive behavior of Fundamentalists, but perhaps this book is a good introduction to that behavior.

Sadly, Miles returned to his abusive and criminal life and returned to the profession after writing this book.

[Fredric Rice · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this paperback years ago, decades ago, it was fascinating because Austin Miles was a rabid, screaming, insane Republican Christian extremist who assisted to defraud the gullible rubes, marks, and suckers, lifting money from the chumps by rooking and swindling them, all under the name of Jesus and the other Christanic gods.

Then after watching the felony indictments and the sexual exposures of other Chritranic Republican frauds and crooks, for a brief moment in time Austin surfaced from his the insanity, from the glut of money that these frauds take from Christian rubes, and he wrote three novels describing how and why Christianity is a fraud and how crooks like him and his fellow crooks were taking money from the stupid.

And Miles did a good job of it in this novel.

Sadly, Miles slipped back in to the far right wing Christianic Republican hate cult and resumed ye ole' grift yet his truthful novels like this one live on.