The Nine O'Clock Service

IT IS seven o’clock on a Sunday night. Evensong time for the traditional Christian worshipper. But at St. Thomas’ church on the edge of Sheffield, the band are tuning their electric guitars.

The church is packed. People in bare feet greet one another like old friends. A disco ball casts a shimmer from the ceiling that dances merrily over the walls. The stained glass window that once overlooked the flock has been filled in and painted cream. In its place a PowerPoint, and it says ‘Welcome to the 7pm gathering.’

Beside the stage are a mountainous stack of shadow black speakers. Engineers on the balcony make last-minute checks to sound and lighting. We’re encouraged to help ourselves to tea and biscuits before finding a seat, or a cushion on the floor.
The music drops down to a low drizzle of synthesizer backbeat as the priest in jeans and a jumper takes to the stage. He tells people to find a space and gather their thoughts. One boy gets down on his knees and kisses the floor.

Their whispers create a buzzing all around us. It grows louder and louder. Suddenly there’s a forest of arms up high and they start to clap. There is chanting and whoops of ‘Thank you Lord.’
The band kicks into an upbeat number and the people jump up and down. Volunteers dressed in black emerge from the shadows and snake through the crowd with donation bowls.

“Michael Rowed The Boat Ashore” has been neatly put away with the other traditional relics of this church. St Thomas’ sings from a different hymn sheet now.

So, whither Christianity?

Fifteen years after the scandal of the Nine O’Clock Service, has St. Thomas’ church relapsed into the same cultish form of alternative worship or is it simply connecting with the young people of today?

Under the Rev Chris Brain, the Nine O’Clock service transformed Christian worship. Thumping music, dry ice and strobe lighting were characterised his service. Brain preached not about God but about the world. But the service has people divided, even today.

Stephen Lowe, Archdeacon of Sheffield at the time, has nothing but praise.

“I remember the service with immense affection. I was going almost every week myself,” he says.

“It was one of the most exciting energies of Christian worship in England.

“The church really needs to create services for young people, where they can worship and engage with God and The Nine O’clock service did that.”

But others weren’t so keen. One former member of the church calls it bizarre.

“There was nothing like it in the country,” says John from Woodseats.

“It was an alternative service and it shocked a lot of people. The style of worship was bizarre. Some people liked it and others ran a mile.

“It was more new age theology. They seemed interested in relating it to a person’s lifestyle. It was very woolly. God didn’t seem to be important.

“They talked about how wonderful Mother Nature was and how brilliant the world was. I didn’t like the way they kept harping on.”

The service was disbanded in 1995 after Chris Brain admitted to having sexual relations with women in the congregation.

Has the church learned from its mistakes?

“The issue was that there was an abuse of power,” says Venerable Lowe.

“Power should have been shared and handled more democratically.”

When the service moved to Ponds Forge, John believes the church should have scrutinised Brain.

“They should have kept a closer eye on things, but Chris knew best and he wasn’t going to listen to anybody else. He went off the rails.”

After twenty minutes of singing and dancing at the 7pm Gathering, the priest tells us to put our hands on our heart.

“Feel that beating. That is the Holy Spirit inside you.”

He says a prayer and asks for a round of applause. The crowd make it rapturous.

And the donation bowls are sent round once again.