Christmas Eve at Adam's House

Everyone who went to the Church of the Resurrection had to sign in. To make sure of it, Hamilton stopped the service to let ushers hand out sign-in books. In the early days, Hamilton kept track of his flock on index cards; now they're in a computer file.

The 36-hour follow-up was a trick he'd learned from a shoe saleswoman at Wolfe Brothers in Tulsa. Pearl Goldman had written thank-you notes to every customer, whether she'd bought bunny slippers or high-dollar pumps. It earned her a loyal following that snubbed the eager young Oral Roberts student who filled in on Pearl's days off.

Hamilton adapted the technique for church work. In Bixby, Oklahoma, his 13-kid youth group swelled to 36 teens over eleven months. At New World United Methodist Church in Garland, Texas, an 18-member youth group added 132 teen-agers in three years.

At Church of the Resurrection, the follow-up comes with a coffee mug. In the early days, Hamilton delivered it himself, charting a course through the cul-de-sacs each Sunday afternoon, knocking on the doors of that morning's first-time visitors.

Standing on the front step, Hamilton was quick to reassure people that he wasn't going to invite himself in. His pitch: "I just wanted to quickly drop this by and let you know how pleased we are that you visited the church this morning. I would love to have the privilege of being your pastor, and we would love to be your church."

He would thrust out the coffee mug and a church newsletter and ask if they had any questions. If no one was home, he would leave the mug and newsletter with a personal note. Hamilton delivered 800 mugs over the first four years.

Because he'd been to the homes of his recruits, Hamilton had a better chance of remembering their names. "When I called them by their name on the second visit, they were usually hooked," he says.

And when visitors returned, he made note of it. After the third time, he'd pick up the phone and call, asking if he might come by some evening to get to know them.

He'd ask them about their lives and their church background. He'd tell his story, his own erratic church history and his dreams for Church of the Resurrection.

Then he would suggest they hold hands and pray. Many times he'd look up to see tears dripping from their cheeks. "Generally I was the only adult who had ever prayed with these people," he says. "It was just a holy moment. That evening I became their pastor."

Those first four years, Hamilton made 300 house calls. At some point -- he isn't sure exactly when -- so many people were coming to his church that Hamilton could no longer make house calls to potential members. Now the church has 100 volunteer "muggers" who do it for him.

After all, as Hamilton writes, "In the church, pastors, staff and leaders are also in sales."

From those original 120 people, Church of the Resurrection has grown to 11,155 members and adds another 100 each month.

They come for the sermons.

Sheryl Threde of Prairie Village was shopping for a church a year ago when she tried Church of the Resurrection, even though she'd been put off by its size. Afterward, she says, "We just couldn't stop talking about the sermon. You're just riveted."

They come for the programs.

Twenty-eight-year-old Janelle Baker began driving to Church of the Resurrection from her home in Lawrence about three years ago, attracted by the singles group. Lawrence had Christian diversions for college kids and families, but she had to drive to Leawood to find young adults her age. Now she helps lead the group.

They come for the energy.

"We found here an atmosphere so unusual compared to anything we ever experienced," says Bob Hudspeth of Kansas City, Missouri, who joined with his wife about a year ago. "I don't think many people can explain to you what's here. It's a spirit of acceptance, of excitement, of challenge, of a roadmap to a profoundly different and better life."

Hudspeth, who is sixty years old, used to be an irregular attendee at a Kansas City church he doesn't want to name. Now he has taken a Bible study course. He and about 100 other members of the late-night men's group meet each Tuesday at 8 p.m. to sing songs with a middle-aged garage band and talk about things Biblical and not. He even helped form a new group called the Racial Reconciliation Committee. He says the members hope to understand and eventually try to help bridge the racial divide in Kansas City -- a challenge at this very white, suburban church.

"I spend a lot of time out here, and I never thought I'd spend a lot of time in church," Hudspeth says.

Reverend Ray Firestone has been involved with Church of the Resurrection since it started. His daughter had been a friend of Hamilton's at Central. He was a retired minister when he volunteered to help, a gray-haired authority figure back when, he remembers, Hamilton was 25 "but looked 16."