Former Priest Christopher Brain on Trial for Rape and 36 Indecent Assault Charges Linked to Nine O’Clock Service

The trial of Christopher Brain, a former Church of England priest and the charismatic leader of the Nine O’Clock Service (NOS), has cast a dark shadow over one of the most unconventional religious movements to emerge from the UK in the 1980s and 90s. At the center of the case are disturbing allegations that Brain used his spiritual influence to control and sexually abuse women under the guise of radical Christian worship.

With a total of 37 charges, including one count of rape and 36 counts of indecent assault, the trial has gripped observers and revealed a controversial chapter in the history of evangelical Christianity in Britain. NOS, known for its rave-style services and attempts to merge club culture with Christian spirituality, began as a grassroots community of disillusioned believers.

But according to prosecutors, what started as a spiritual experiment soon evolved into something much darker. Brain, now 68, is accused of manipulating members of his congregation—particularly young women—for personal and sexual gratification. The case has reopened painful memories for many and raised serious questions about accountability, charisma, and abuse within religious institutions.

The Rise of the Nine O’Clock Service and Brain’s Influence

Christopher Brain began his journey within the Church of England as an unorthodox yet passionate Christian who sought new ways to engage younger congregations. Disenchanted with traditional church settings, he formed a Christian band and became the unofficial leader of a community called the “Nairn Street Community.” This group, made up of around a dozen individuals who felt alienated from conventional churches, was the foundation of what would later become the Nine O’Clock Service.

The movement gained traction after Brain and his followers were inspired by American evangelical minister John Wimber. Known for his charismatic preaching, Wimber promoted practices like the “laying on of hands” and speaking in tongues. These experiences contributed to the radical reimagining of Christian worship that became the hallmark of NOS. Services were held at 9 p.m. in St Thomas’ Church in Crookes, Sheffield, and were infused with visual effects, club music, and alternative liturgy.

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At its peak, NOS drew crowds of up to 600 people, many of them young adults attracted to the fresh and rebellious approach to Christianity. Brain, dressed in contemporary attire and often performing as part of the band, cultivated an image that was more rockstar than reverend. He challenged ecclesiastical norms, going so far as to wear the cassock worn by Robert De Niro in The Mission during his ordination to avoid traditional Church garments that NOS members reportedly “loathed.”

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However, this rejection of orthodoxy and embrace of counterculture opened the door to a lack of oversight. Brain admitted in court that he may have been “overbearing” at times, especially when directing music and services. While he claimed to have led through consensus, he also conceded to having a forceful personality, which could dominate the community’s dynamics. The prosecution argues that this dominance, combined with his spiritual authority, allowed him to create a “closed and controlled” environment where abuse could flourish.

Allegations of Sexual Abuse and Cult-like Control

The heart of the trial revolves around allegations from 13 women who claim Brain used his position to initiate inappropriate and non-consensual sexual contact. According to the prosecution, Brain surrounded himself with a group of women known within the NOS community as the “homebase team.” These women, sometimes mockingly called the “Lycra Lovelies” or the “Lycra Nuns,” were allegedly tasked with keeping Brain’s house “spotlessly clean,” helping him to bed, and—most disturbingly—performing sexual favors.

Brain, who was married with a young child during much of the alleged abuse, admitted to receiving “sensual” back massages from these women to relieve what he described as “terrible” tension headaches. In his own defense, he stated that these massages were given by close personal friends and not part of any formal duty. While acknowledging that some physical contact occasionally bordered on the sexual, he insisted that it never went too far and was always mutually understood to stop before becoming explicitly sexual.

He further defended these interactions as a form of emotional intimacy within a group exploring “tantric celibacy” as part of its evolving theology in the early 1990s. In his testimony, Brain explained that this involved occasional kissing, massaging, and stroking with certain close friends but denied that it led to any explicit sexual encounters unless consensual.

Despite these claims, prosecutors allege that Brain used NOS as a platform for widespread abuse. The courtroom heard that he had made admissions in a 1995 documentary, confessing to sexual contact with some NOS members. While he insists these encounters were consensual, the sheer number and nature of the allegations have led to comparisons with known cases of cult abuse. The prosecution asserts that NOS, under Brain’s leadership, ceased to be a spiritual movement and became instead a vehicle for personal exploitation.

Cult or Community? A Movement in Question

Whether NOS can be fairly described as a cult is a central issue in the trial. Brain vehemently denies this characterization, insisting that NOS was an “experiment” in modern Christian worship, not a manipulative or coercive organization. He maintains that the community was made up of creative individuals seeking new ways to engage with faith and culture and that he never “brainwashed” anyone or exerted undue control.

Yet former members and prosecutors paint a different picture. According to their testimony, the NOS became increasingly insular, with Brain’s influence permeating every aspect of members’ lives—from theology and worship to living arrangements and personal relationships. Some say the atmosphere became one of compliance, with dissent discouraged and groupthink encouraged.

As one witness put it, people became “robots” under Brain’s command, molded to serve his vision and, allegedly, his desires. Brain’s own admission that he could be “overbearing” in directing the movement only adds to the impression of authoritarianism.

Though he claimed this was more about artistic leadership than personal dominance, the structure of the homebase team and the intimate access granted to him by female members hint at a deeper power imbalance. The fact that this all occurred within the context of the Church of England has only heightened the scandal, drawing criticism toward the institution for its apparent lack of oversight.

The Church of England has previously acknowledged failings in the handling of NOS, and in 1995, following internal investigations and media scrutiny, the group was disbanded. Brain stepped down from all ministry roles, and NOS services ceased to operate. However, the full extent of what occurred behind the scenes is only now coming to light in a court of law.

As the trial continues, the line between experimental worship and spiritual manipulation becomes ever more blurred. What is clear is that the story of Christopher Brain and the Nine O’Clock Service is a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked spiritual authority and the potential for abuse cloaked in charisma and religious innovation.

Whether or not Brain is found guilty on all charges, the case has already prompted soul-searching within the Church and renewed debate about the safeguards needed to prevent such abuses in the future.