The service hadn't even started, but the new, temporary home of the Northside Institutional Church of God in Christ was literally rocking with worshipers dancing, lifting their arms to heaven and praising God to the rhythm of a gospel band and youth choir.

This Easter, less than three months since their own building on California Avenue was destroyed in a four-alarm fire, the church has undergone a resurrection that it hopes will bring new life to its neighborhood. Last week, work began to demolish the charred ruins of the old church. The congregation plans to rebuild on the site.

Prior to Holy Week, its members had worshiped first in a union hall and then with the New Hope United Methodist Church. But on Palm Sunday, they met in the former St. Luke Memorial Lutheran Church in Perry South, which closed last Easter as part of a merger.

"This is the day that the Lord has made. For on this day, the Lord has made room for us," the Rev. Lola Thorpe proclaimed, breaking into unintelligible words or "tongues" that Pentecostals believe are a heavenly language given by the Holy Spirit. The congregation shouted praise along with her.

Northside Institutional has signed a year's lease on the former Lutheran church building.

Neighbors said the Jan. 25 fire began with an explosion at 7 p.m. According to Lisa Thorpe-Vaughn, an associate pastor and daughter of the founders of church, investigators told church leaders that the cause was undetermined. The insurance has been settled, she said, so work can begin at the site, which she has refused to visit.

"It's so painful to look at it in ruins. It will feel better when the land is clear," said Ms. Thorpe-Vaughn, 43.

Her parents, Bishop Eugene and Lola Thorpe, founded the church 43 years ago. Its first building was destroyed by an electrical fire in 1985. After a difficult interim, the congregation bought the California Avenue building.

That was when "institutional" was added to the name. It meant that the church was to be an institution, or pillar, of the community, the way that schools or libraries are supposed to be.

The California-Kirkbride neighhorhood suffered from poverty, violence and civic neglect. The church made news primarily when people were shot dead outside it. Yet, with only about 400 active members, it became a powerhouse for transformation.

It kept youth off the street, mentored young couples, fed the hungry, registered voters, provided basic health screening, mediated neighborhood conflicts, sent crews to clean up abandoned properties and provided mentors to children of prisoners. It held round-the-clock prayer meetings to combat such diverse problems as gang violence in Pittsburgh and genocide in Darfur.

After the fire in January, city officials and community organizers offered assistance to restore the congregation. The church had never sought the limelight. But after laboring in what felt like obscurity for decades, the Thorpes were overwhelmed.

"We are so blessed. My parents served Pittsburgh for 45 years, and Pittsburgh said, 'Thank you.' We really have noticed and appreciated the outpouring from the city. It was something we had never experienced before, in any other situation," Ms. Thorpe-Vaughn said.

"It has meant the world to me. My biggest concern was that my parents would see everything they had done go to ruin."

Now, with money from insurance, a fire fund and hoped-for community development grants, they plan to build an approximately $2 million facility that will expand their services to the community. They want a multipurpose gym and a dedicated health care facility, a coffee house and a day care.

Crystal Manker, the youth pastor, has belonged to the congregation for 30 of her 38 years.

"This opens a new opportunity to get kids off the streets. This will open a way to new growth that we haven't been able to touch. We had the people, but now we will have the resources," she said.

The interim has been difficult. The youth group has met at the Pittsburgh Project. Northside Institutional's programs proved too active to work around another church's schedule in a shared building.

"Everything is here now. We can go back to having revival and extended services," Ms. Thorpe-Vaughn said.

Volunteers put in long hours cleaning, dusting and moving into the stately gray stone church. Bishop Thorpe can't attend until a ramp is installed for the wheelchair he has used since his third stroke in 2006.

His son, Chris Thorpe, the church administrator, opened the service last Sunday. "To all of our visitors, we are eager to welcome you to our new, temporary home," he said.

"Eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, what God has in store for the Northside Institutional Church of God in Christ."

The Rev. Thorpe sat behind the pulpit in a long, white dress, studying the Bible that lay open in her lap. When she rose to preach, her first words were about three Pittsburgh police officers killed the day before.

"We pray for the families of those police officers who lost their lives. We pray in the name of Jesus that you will touch every one of those families," she said in her low contralto, as the congregation voiced agreement.

Their voices rose and they applauded as she called on God to heal the city and cast out the forces of violence.

"We pray the peace of God! The peace of God! The peace of God!" she shouted.

Only then did she settle into her text about Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem days before his crucifixion. Some of those waving palm branches in his honor were shouting for his death days later, she said.

"The people shouted 'Hosanna,' but did they really want to be saved or just participate in a big celebration?" she asked softly. She called people to come forward if they wanted to commit their lives to Jesus.

A young couple stepped forward, followed by a few others. An older woman who had been seated behind them wept. Another woman embraced her, saying, "Your prayers have been answered."

Seated in a front pew was Sharon Gans, 57, of Avalon, a founding member. She and her husband, Albert, had planned a service to honor Bishop Thorpe for 6 p.m. Jan. 25. But due to an impending snow storm, they canceled it. If they hadn't, the fire would have erupted in a packed church, she said.

When she got the first call, she was sure it was a mistake.

"God wouldn't allow that to happen to us. Not again," she remembered thinking as they drove to the church. But she saw the flames from blocks away.

Even as she relived painful memories of the 1985 fire, she took heart. "From the other fire, we knew that it wasn't the end," she said.

She is on several planning committees, where members were urged to dream about what could be done in a new building.

"If you want to work, this is the place to find your work and serve others," she said. "If there's something we don't have here, you can bring it and we'll work with it."

Darneil Barron, 24, grew up in the church and owns a small transit company. The church encourages youth to be entrepreneurs, he said.

When he saw the fire, he said, "I knew that God must have another plan in store for us."

He said he had had visions of how the church should expand its ministry before the fire, but nothing seemed to be happening.

"The fire caused us to have to react and plan," he said. "My vision is that it will be a building that will attract the youth as well as the old in the community. I see the building as a place of restoration for the North Side as well as for our congregation."