From Prophecy to Crumbling Legacy: Marvin Rees
As the talk around Marvin Rees's newly published memoir, Let's See What Happens, picks up, there’s an aspect of his story that seems to have slipped under the radar — a prophecy, deeply rooted in the Charismatic church and intertwined with his political journey.
Instead of seeing what happens next, let’s rewind to July 2014. A woman in Fort Mill, South Carolina, was deep in prayer when she heard God say the word "Bristol" to her. Over the next 24 hours, "Bristol" appeared in unexpected places — even on a whole stand of honey at a fair — until she realized it wasn’t just a word, but a place in England. Subsequently she felt that God was leading her to pray for an outpouring of healing in three places around the world, one of which was Bristol.
Somehow, this prophecy made its way across the Atlantic, landing in the hands of Greg and Clare Thompson in 2015. The Thompsons, leaders of LoveBristol, a Stokes Croft-based charity linked to Woodlands Church, found themselves at the centre of what was to become a powerful narrative.
The prophecy was clear: "Bristol will be known as the healing capital of England. An outpouring of healing anointing is coming to that region, and songs of deliverance will be sung from there. Winds of change are blowing, and a changing of the guard is coming to the church as well as the political arena."
In 2016, Bristol hosted a Charismatic church conference called Release, drawing big names from the Charismatic world. But this wasn’t LoveBristol’s first foray into these waters. As early as 2010, they had brought Bill Johnson from the Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry, a key figure in this movement. His fellow leader, Kris Vallotton, also made several trips to Bristol, once even preaching in front of then-Mayor Marvin Rees, with Rees's faith adviser, a Bethel alumna, on stage.
Rees’s connections to the evangelical world have been documented in a minimal way by me, and some others, with key players from these circles embedded in Bristol's political landscape.
These groups were not just passive observers but active participants, influencing decisions at the highest levels. They were involved in City Funds, had a presence in the mayor’s office, and were even entrusted with implementing policy. A prime example of this influence is Rees's promise of land for "Monastery 2.0," a vision that remarkably became policy.
Council planning documents would include sentences such as the following:
“Following on from the exhibition at the Bristol Housing Festival that took place in October 2018, Bristol City Council has committed to support the Festival initiative and to making land available for innovative solutions to address the shortage of housing stock in Bristol.”
The Council committed “to making land available” for BHF, which is an organisation part-run by Nat Wei’s company.
The 2016 Release conference, in many ways, symbolized the rising tide of Rees’s power — a mayor in a city of Seven Hills, a significant symbol in Christian prophecy. Molano, Rees’s faith adviser, even predicted he would become Prime Minister by 2024.
That, of course, did not come to pass.
How did things began to unravel?
In 2021, the LibDems tabled a motion at Full Council to have a referendum on whether to keep the mayoral system. Despite all the attempts to stifle discussion and knowledge of the referendum—the council did not even send an information booklet about what this meant—and the attempts to smear it as a racist, costly and ignorant vote, it passed. In May 2022, the people of Bristol decided to return to a Committee system. While the jury is still out on whether much will change in terms of which policies are approved, the biggest effect was to hold Rees up as something the city didn’t want.
In 2023, Rees’ pursuit of Westminster came to an end with him not chosen as Labour candidate despite the selection being run by his own electoral agent. Politically, he was spiralling downwards.
That same year, 2023, the Charismatic church came under intense scrutiny when one of its leading figures, Mike Pilavachi, linked to Woodlands Church in Bristol, was exposed for abusing his power to exploit young male interns. Pilavachi, a man once celebrated in these circles, had deep ties to Bristol, even mentoring interns from the city. His downfall cast a shadow over the movement that had once thrived under Rees’s administration.
Rees, now distanced from his mayoral duties, is left to reflect on his legacy. His former pastor, Chris Bond, has spoken candidly about the church's influence during Rees's tenure. For many residents, this was a time when they felt overlooked, while the church — his church — was given a seat at the table, shaping policies and steering funds.
Now that Rees has moved from the mayor's office to the guest sofa of Newsnight, we are left with the question: what happens next? The prophecy of Bristol becoming a "healing capital" remains unfulfilled. The winds of change, it seems, have not blown in the direction many had anticipated. The intertwined paths of faith and politics in Bristol have left a curious legacy, one that may take years to fully unravel.
For now, we have some names of companies and key people to be aware of. They have not disappeared from local government and its associated organisations.
There's also a Bristol in Tennessee, and a Bristol in Virginia. And now I've just found this: "There are 29 populated places in the United States named Bristol. This makes it one of the most popular place names in the country."
But apart from that, how do you go from hearing 'Bristol' whilst in prayer to conceptualising Marvin Rees as some kind of messianic figure? Methinks there was some very creative and selective interpretation taking place.