A Disclaimer—Just in Case

Miracle Magazine, a monthly publication with a circulation of 350,000, was produced and printed at Miracle Valley. Allen was very careful to publish a disclaimer concerning the wild claims of healing that appeared in that periodical, sent in by enthusiastic “healees.” Obviously advised by lawyers, and to cover the possibility that someone might look into one of those cases, the publisher of the magazine inserted this notice:Utmost care has been taken to assure the accuracy of all testimonies before publication and A. A. Allen Revivals, Inc. and “Miracle Magazine” assume no legal responsibility for the veracity of any such report, nor do they accept responsibility as to the degree or permanence of reported healings, deliverances or miracles since the Bible itself declares that for those who do not continue to live for God, even worse things may come (John 5:14).

(Evangelist/healer W. V. Grant, perhaps at the urging of his lawyers, fumbled his own attempt to disavow responsibility for such claims. He inserted a similar notice in his publication, Dawn of a New Day, but it was a garbled sentence that really said nothing. It read:All healing reproduced herein is just exactly as reported and no liability is assumed for their veracity.

Because the reports are made by Grant himself, one wonders who, if anyone, has been protected by this notice. It is printed in black on a dark blue background, sideways, in the smallest type used in the publication.)

A Colorful Start

A. A. Allen was born in Arkansas into the Methodist church, switched to Pentecostalism and then began his career as a minister of the Assemblies of God in his twenties. He worked at it successfully until 1955, when he jumped bail on a drunken driving charge in Knoxville, Tennessee, and was defrocked by the Assemblies of God. In typical fashion, he immediately re-ordained himself and started up his big moneymaker, the Miracle Revival Fellowship. He went “under canvas” and began touring with his big tent show. When Allen discovered radio and television, he abandoned his tent and switched to the electronic media. By mail, he sold “prosperity cloths,” pieces of his old tent, for $100 to $1,000 donations. The idea was that all those years of high-powered preaching had impregnated the fabric and would bring a blessing to the owner by radiation alone. He specialized in visions, divine voices, and prophecies. At one point, Allen advertised a plan to raise the dead, in accordance with biblical instructions to the apostles to do the same. The dreadful possibility that corpses would begin stacking up at his Miracle Valley headquarters brought him to a quick stop on that one.

A Tough Customer

Allen, who looked a little like James Cagney, was lampooned mercilessly by the press for his bizarre behavior. He constantly threatened retribution from heaven against those who offered him resistance. When one newspaper ran a series of uncomplimentary articles about him, he warned the reporters:I’d hate to be in their shoes. You just don’t fool around with a man God has anointed. He will get them one of these days!

Allen tried to establish for his followers that this threatened vengeance was actually being carried out by God. Robert W. Schambach was Allen’s right-hand man at that time. He was the one who chuckled with success when the circulation chief of the Fresno Bee died after a sister paper, the Sacramento Bee, published strong criticism of Allen. He also claimed that an earlier earthquake in Eureka, California, and a flood were the results of Allen’s dissatisfaction with that town’s reception of his preaching. Schambach eventually went out on his own; he is still active in this field and on TV, performing his Holy Ghost Miracle Revival tent show to crowds of thousands in the Bronx. Allen said to the New York Times, as late as 1970:There are no evangelists left that offer us any competition now. We’ve got the field. Back in the late ‘40s and ’50s, Jack Coe, Oral Roberts, O. L. Jaggers and 200 others you know, there were 200 evangelists all praying for the sick, having healing revivals. Now they’re nonexistent.

Well, he was dead wrong about Oral Roberts. That preacher is still very much with us, demonstrating that he has the greatest endurance in the business. The New York Times described the Allen performance asa combination of the traditional fire and brimstone, organ-thumping, evangelical style, and a sophisticated awareness of the power of radio and television to carry the message from beyond.