Follow My Leader 1. A Church Becomes a Ministry.

Pastor Rob Otley was preaching in his big mega church made from an old converted cinema. The picture was being relayed to 2 other mega churches on the other side of the city.
“Elijah was a brilliant man of God. Elijah commanded fire to come down on the men the king had sent to capture him. Three times that fire of God came down and burned up the fifty men. The last one said, ‘Excuse me. You’re not going to burn up me and all my men as well, are you? I believe that you’re a prophet. I believe in you Elijah. Please don’t burn me up.’ Elijah commanded the rain to stop for 3 years. Then he commanded it to start again. So it hadn’t rained for 3 years and Elijah said, ‘Hey, it’s going to rain today.’ Well, they didn’t believe him, did they? So he took them up a cliff that looked over the sea and they looked out there. Oh, there’s a tiny little cloud the size of a man’s hand. But then it began to rain, then it began to pour.” The choir on the stage began to sing. They were called Saints and Co.
“I lift Jesus higher,
I lift Jesus higher,
There’s power, power in his name.
Emmanuel! The King of Kings!”

Afterwards, Pastor Rob Otley stood by the door shaking hands with a few of the 1500 people who were going out.
“Pastor, my wife and I really enjoyed your service,” said one man.
“Yes,” said his wife. “What a fantastic time of worship and teaching.”
“We travel all over the city, looking for the ultimate worship experience,” said the husband.
“Pastor, we haven’t found anything better. This is the most exciting church we’ve ever visited.”
“Thank you,” said Rob Otley. A single man in a suit stood behind the couple in the queue.
“Pastor,” he said, “I am the leader of a small group of Methodist Christians. We meet on a Sunday morning. To be perfectly honest, Pastor, I’m not an exceptionally gifted preacher.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Do your best. Share what is on your heart, Brother.”
“The congregation don’t see it that way. Our last minister was a really gifted preacher and he had a huge congregation. They’ve all deserted me. There’s hardly any of them left now. Pastor, could I televise your services?”
“Yes, of course. Buy the videos from the church bookshop, they’re £30. Buy a large screen TV. It always works better with a large screen TV.”
“There are so few of us a portable TV might be more appropriate.”
“Have faith, Brother. Buy a big screen. The church will grow.”

Next Sunday morning at the Methodist Church, one of the old ladies looked excited.
“Fifty people have come,” she told the minister, whose name was Jeremy.
“It’s amazing, Jeremy,” said an old man. “Just because we put up a sign in the street outside saying Pastor Rob Otley."
“I bought that poster from his shop and put it on the sandwich board,” said Jeremy. “It’s just a pity that they can’t get as excited about my preaching.” Fifty people began to watch the Pastor Rob Otley DVD on the big screen. Saints and Co began to sing,
“Come into the Holy of Holies,
Enter by the blood of the lamb.
Come into the Holy of Holies,
Worship at the throne of God.
Lifting Holy hands to the King of Kings,
Worship Jesus.”
Pastor Rob Otley began to preach.
“Elijah went to the widow’s house and he said, Prepare a meal for me. She said, ‘I have nothing left, only a little oil and a little flour to be able to make one meal for my son and myself, then we will die.’ But that flour never ran out, and that oil never ran out. Elijah lived by a brook. He was fed by ravens. The birds used to bring him bread and meat every day.”

Over the next few weeks, word got around that the Methodist church were showing videos of Pastor Rob Otley’s services on the big screen. There were soon 150 people crammed into the small community hall. Jeremy stood in the queue on a Sunday night after the service at the big converted cinema to speak to Pastor Rob Otley.
“Hello, you’re the pastor from the Methodist church, aren’t you?” asked Rob Otley.
“Yes, my name’s Jeremy.”
“Well Jeremy, how is it going?”
“The Methodist church is doing really well since I started using your programme. There were 12 of us before, now there’s 144.”
“That’s what I call multiplication. Glad I could help.”
“We’re considering holding an evening service now, as well,” said Jeremy.
“Great, just buy both discs from the shop upstairs. Come here on Monday afternoon, it’ll be ready by then. They’re open all week.” The Sunday night service did just as fantastically.

The Methodist Preachers’ circle summoned Jeremy to an emergency meeting.
“Our church is having a revival,” said Jeremy. “We now have a combined Sunday morning and evening congregation of 300 since the new minister came.”
“What minister?” someone asked.
“The DVD player with the big video screen,” said Jeremy. “And Pastor Rob Otley.”
“They won’t want Methodist preachers anymore,” said someone else.
“Churches are not for the benefit of those who lead them,” said Jeremy. There were gasps of horror from the lay preachers and ministers.
“Of course churches are for the benefit of those who lead them. What else are they for? Rob Otley has his church, you have yours, Jeremy, I have mine. It’s our job to run churches.”
“People don’t want the kind of churches we run,” said Jeremy. “We’re a joke. We’re a laughing stock. Six old ladies in the back row. Twelve at Easter or Christmas. That’s the Methodists. We can’t even pay our wages. I have to run my own business.”
“You’re very lucky to have your own business, Jeremy, I actually live on my stipend, you are putting me out of a job,” said one of the other ministers.
“No, I’m not. I’m teaching you teamwork. Pastor Rob Otley will provide the teaching. Saints and Co will provide the music. Who will provide the coffee? Who will sit and talk to people?”
A few days later Pastor Rob Otley showed his wife an extraordinary letter at the breakfast table.
“A letter from the local Methodist circuit,” he read aloud. “Could we please provide our sermons by mail order to 10 churches.”
“Why’s that, Darling?” asked his wife.
“Someone’s been showing my DVD at his church. They’ve gone from 12 members to 300 members in a couple of months. They want to do this in 10 churches.”
“That’s amazing.”
“That’s quite a lot of money. 10 churches, 2 DVDs each every Sunday. £600 a week. More than we make now.”

Over the next few months similar letters arrived from Methodist circuits all over the country, and the church shop’s bank balance began to do rather well. Then, one afternoon while they were having a cup of tea together, Pastor Rob Otley’s wife noticed something in the newspaper.
“Darling, tonight there’s a documentary on Channel 4 about the revival that is sweeping the Methodist church,” she said.
“That’s great. Let’s watch it.”

The television showed a picture of a few people sitting in an almost empty community hall with a church organist playing the organ and a man in church minister’s clothes at the front.
“Six months ago this church had only 14 members,” said the announcer. “Now it has 300.” The scene changed. The community hall was full of people watching Pastor Rob Otley on a big screen. Pastor Rob Otley began preaching.
“David left Uriah the Hittite at the front of the battlefield on his own. He gave orders for the other soldiers to withdraw and just leave him there. Uriah was cut down and killed. Why? Because David wanted his wife.” The scene on the big screen changed. Saints and Co began to sing.
“Dance, dance, everybody dance,
Dance, dance, everybody dance, now.” The camera turned on the crowd in the community hall who were now dancing. Saints and Co shouted,
“Jesus, you’re the name that saves!” The crowd shouted with them.
“Darling, that’s lovely,” said Mrs. Otley. “You’re reviving dying churches. The Methodists are dancing.”
“And my picture up on the screen. Fame at last.”