For many years I have read and reread the stimulating sermons of J Wallace Hamilton. He was the dearly loved pastor of Community Church in Pasadena, Florida. He was called there in 1932 and long before the term “mega-churches” was common-place in America, he pastored one. Ushers counted 3,450 cars one Sunday with families sitting in them and listening to messages from amplifiers on posts and in the trees to this instinctive, brilliant, present tense truth teller. The building held about 1,500, but over 8,000 of his members never came inside.