Follow My Leader Chapter 6 Church In the City

That Sunday Matthew helped Mr. Woodhouse put the television in the back of his old Ford Fiesta. He also packed the DVD player and a few other items. Down the road the car trundelled. Mrs. Woodhouse walked along behind. There wasn’t a seat for her in the car. The back seat had to be folded down to get the television inside. Matthew helped carry the television into the hall and set out the chairs. 30 or so chairs, in neat straight rows. He plugged the DVD player into the television. Then he saw something very strange. 100 of his father’s DVDs in a CD tower box with a screw top lid, of the kind you buy cheap batches of CDs and DVDs in, 100 for £20.
“Are these copies?” asked Matthew.
“No, they’re originals,” said Mrs. Woodhouse. “We bought them from a church jumble sale. They’re old editions.”
“Many churches do it,” said Mr. Woodhouse. “A whole year of Rob Otley for $100, in an old, empty DVD container.”

The congregation arrived and sat in their seats.
“Hi Margaret, Hi Rhonda,” said Mrs. Woodhouse.
“Hi Thelma,” Margaret replied, calling Mrs. Woodhouse by her first name. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” said Mrs. Woodhouse. Matthew introduced himself to a young black man.
“Hi. I’m Matthew. I’m a student training to become a minister.”
“Do they still have ministers?” replied the black man. “I thought Rob Otley was going to replace ministers.” At that moment, Rob Otley appeared on the TV screen.
“Hello, and here I am today celebrating the beauty of God’s creation in these breath taking mountains. Some of the locals in this village are going to be joining us for their Sunday worship.” Pastor Rob Otley stood surrounded by peasants, cottages and mountain goats. He read a psalm.
“Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth. When I consider the heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? You made him a little lower than the angels and crowned him with glory and honour. You put everything under his feet. All flocks and herds and the beasts of the field. The birds of the air and the fish of the sea. Oh Lord, Our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.” At the end of the service, the equipment was put away and everybody filed out just as quietly as they had come in.

At lunchtime Mrs. Woodhouse brought the simple meal to the dinner table in her home. It was sweet, sickly mushy peas and chewy stewing steak. Matthew really enjoyed chomping the steak.
“This is nice,” he said. “Steak is supposed to be tough. I hate soft steak. That’s like baby food.”
“Did you enjoy the service this morning?” asked Mr. Woodhouse.
“Yes,” said Matthew, “except, was it really our service?”
“It was Pastor Rob Otley’s service,” said Mrs. Woodhouse. “Did you enjoy the service?”
“It was okay. Yeah, it was good. I just wondered what would happen if we gave some time after the meeting to fellowship. Maybe even have a meal together?”
“A meal? That would take some doing,” said Mrs. Woodhouse.
“It sounds like a good idea, Thelma,” said Mr. Woodhouse. “Not twice a day, maybe in the evening.”
“It needn’t be anything special,” said Matthew.
“How about a make your own sandwich bar, Thelma? That’s not too difficult.”
“Poor people in America don’t have any transport,” said Matthew. “I wonder what would happen if we hired a minibus?”
“Good idea,” said Mrs. Woodhouse. “I could give you a list of 50 people we haven’t seen for a long time.” That Saturday Mr. Woodhouse telephoned a number of church members.
“Hi Stan. Could you drive a minibus? We’re going to hire 3 minibuses this Sunday and pick up a long list of people who we haven’t seen for a long time. I’ll give you their mobile phone numbers. If they haven’t got mobile phones I’ll give you their address, just knock on the door.”

That Sunday night there were 80 people. Mrs. Woodhouse laid on a simple supper after the meeting – cheap loaves of bread with sandwich spread and cheap margarine, big multipacks of crisps. Matthew sat down with some rough looking men.
“I used to be a heroin addict,” said one of them, showing Matthew the needle marks under his wrists.
“What changed you?”
“Jesus.”
“How do you make a living?”
“I steal things from bins, but at least I’ve stopped hurting people.”
“Praise the Lord,” said Matthew. Somebody opened a bag and showed Matthew some out of date food.
“Is that all right, that ham?” he asked Matthew. “It’s only a day out of date.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s all right.”
“Bangers and mash. They’re a week out of date.”
“I wouldn’t eat those,” said the ex-heroin addict.
“No, don’t eat those,” said Matthew.
“I haven’t eaten for two weeks,” said one of the other men. “I really loved those sandwiches.”
“Have mine,” said Matthew, “and have my crisps as well. I’ll get some more. Don’t they have lots of free food places in America?”
“Yeah. But they’re always running out of food.”

Somebody came in carrying an old guitar amplifier.
“I found it in a skip,” he said. “Will you give me $5 for it?”
“Yes,” said Matthew. “Here’s $5.”
“Matthew, don’t give my parishioners money just because you feel sorry for them,” said Mr. Woodhouse. “Money’s not the best thing to give. That thing is rubbish. It should have gone back in the skip.”
“You can download Rob Otley’s old sound tracks from his website,” said Matthew. “Plug an MP3 player into that thing and we can have a meeting in the open air. I’ll print out the words to the songs on little chorus sheets.”

The next Sunday evening they sat around the guitar amplifier in the park listening to one of Pastor Rob Otley’s sermons.
“When you hold a banquet don’t invite the rich, or they will repay you. Invite the poor. Invite the beggar. Invite the lame. Now, we can’t hold a banquet, but we can give money to the poor. I want to encourage those of you who are wealthy to tithe. A tenth of what the rich man possesses is a great deal of money to those who have a lot less than you.” The Christians in the park began to sing along with Saints and Co. “Dance, dance, everybody dance, dance, dance, everybody dance now.” They danced around, waving their hymn sheets in the air. “Jesus, you’re the name that saves!” they shouted. After the service ended, Matthew took out a football.
“Let’s have a game of football before tea,” he said. He ran off with the football and several of the men ran after him. They passed the ball around and punched and kicked each other.
“Matthew,” said Mr. Woodhouse, “I don’t think they understand the rules of English soccer. They’re playing American football.” Matthew fell into the hedge.
“Praise the Lord,” he said, “a dislocated shoulder for Jesus.”