ALMOST exactly 30 years ago to the day, the front page of the Church Times carried a story with the headline “Service closed after abuse revelations”. The diocese of Sheffield had disbanded what this paper described as the “radical worship community known as the Nine O’Clock Service (NOS)” after its former leader, the Revd Chris Brain, admitted improper sexual activity with 20 women under the guise of healing sessions. Last week, after agonising for several days, a jury finally found Mr Brain guilty of 17 counts of indecent assault and not guilty of 15, and failed to reach verdicts on five outstanding charges.
Tribute should be paid to the women who had to relive their ordeals, in order to secure justice. The police also deserve credit for their painstaking investigation — which, they say, required “varied and complex tactics” — to trace those involved and to secure the evidence necessary for a successful prosecution. The mixed verdict will, no doubt, be painful, but it is to be hoped that victims and survivors can take some comfort in seeing Mr Brain convicted as a serial sex offender, even after more than three decades. Sentencing is still to come.
The NOS was an extreme example of what was known at the time as “alternative worship”, part of an attempt to move the Church of England away from what Mr Brain himself termed “fancy golf-club Christianity”. Services were high-tech, incorporating live music and multimedia displays, and were frequently compared to the experience of attending a nightclub. And it was a successful venture numerically, attracting as many as 400 young people: the congregation grew to the point of needing new premises. According to a BBC documentary about the movement, George Carey (not yet Archbishop of Canterbury) told Mr Brain that he would like to see an NOS “in every town and city in Britain”. Except that this apparent success came with the hallmarks of a cult. The trial heard that Mr Brain used his power to isolate his followers — members were told whom they could befriend or marry — and abuse women in his congregation. Witnesses in court described his style of leadership as manipulative and dictatorial. Some were pressurised into donating large sums of money. Anyone who stepped out of line was given the cold shoulder.
There are depressing echoes here of a more recent scandal: the abuse, exploitation, and dysfunctional governance of Soul Survivor identified in the Scolding report (News, 27 September 2024). Like the NOS, Soul Survivor offered an expression of faith which broke traditional boundaries and appealed particularly to the young. Like Mr Brain, Mr Pilavachi was fast-tracked to ordination. The Scolding report demonstrates how dangerous it would be to imagine that the Brain case could never happen today. A week after the collapse of the NOS in 1995, this paper greeted as something of a novelty the revelation that some dioceses had codes of conduct for the clergy. That this is now taken for granted suggests that the Church has learned valuable lessons. Yet both scandals illustrate the dangers inherent in being blinded by the new and shiny — and the golden ticket to growth — at the expense of appropriate structures, safeguards, and Christians’ own moral duty. We are all warned to be watchful for the roaring lion that prowls around us.
