By Thea Jarvis

It is a Sunday morning in northern Sandy Springs, just south of the Chattahoochee.

Down Dunwoody Place, to Roberts Drive, a caravan of cars makes its way to an empty parking lot in a deserted business park.

The fist building on the left is the destination at hand. One of a cluster of like structures, it houses half a dozen thriving enterprises within its neat brick facade.

The “enterprise” for which the smartly attired Sunday drivers are bound is the one marked with the bold red sign above its glass door--St. Andrew Catholic Church.”

Here the newest of the churches of the Archdiocese of Atlanta has made its beginning.

“It was something that I came upon while scouting around looking for a place,” said St. Andrew’s pastor, Father Peter Ludden, the Dublin dynamo in charge of setting down parish roots.

“We began in the Rivercliff Lutheran Church on Roswell Road in June of 1981, using their sanctuary for seven or eight weeks. The people were happy with it, but the Mass schedule was not the most convenient,” he explained.

“Being in the middle of a business park has caused no problems. The owners are pleased with the diversity of customers using their space. I told them I was the chaplain of the tenant’s association,” Father Ludden smiles.

Sixth grader Chrissy Senk, who attends religion class prior to the 11 a.m. Sunday Mass, doesn’t mind the commercial trappings of her new church.

“It’s different,” she observed candidly on a gray October Sunday.

Chrissy, like most of her fellow parishioners chatting outside church before Mass, is a former parishioner of St. Jude’s parish in Sandy Springs.

“At first I was disappointed to leave St. Jude’s,” reflected Evelyn Shanni. “But a lot of people we knew at St. Jude’s--even some of my neighbors--now come here to St. Andrew’s.”

“Catholics don’t often get the chance to do something like this--to expand their religion. It’s a rare opportunity for all of us, even though it’s a little bit of a sacrifice,” she said.

Standing nearby, Evelyn’s neighbors, Linda and Barney Keleher, echo her sentiments, though for Barney, the “sacrifice” involves the less than deluxe seating accommodations.

“I love it, but I don’t necessarily like the seats,” he laughed.

Linda Keheler feels it is “nice having a small group--you can communicate better.”

Within the church, the metal folding chairs--Barney’s favorites--are filling up. The space, which seats 190 to 200 people is insured privacy by thin levolor blinds on the outside windows that face the parking lot.

A few arieca palms decorate the aisles. An informal arrangement of dried reeds fills a wicker basket by the door. Long, wheat-colored panels hang from the ceiling--a corrugated, steel-girded affair best left to itself--and absorb the sound in decorative fashion.

Father Ludden’s strong Irish baritone begins the entrance hymn and carries the congregation “a cappella”--no organ here--”God’s people, we assemble...” Two foil-covered air/heating ducts are suspended from above, like oversized microphones ready to amplify the voices raised in song.

The group is mixed--young and old, families with pre-schoolers, teens, singles. All seem content, this Sunday morning, to be a vital part of the “building” of their church.

“At first people were doubtful,” recalled Father Ludden. “People were curious about the ‘warehouse’ concept of the place. But they were pleasantly surprised.”

The temporary arrangement has proven acceptable to at least 120 families who weekly pay a visit to St. Andrew’s. A daily Mass at nine in the morning includes a small gathering of three or four people.

“Considering we only just got started,” Father Ludden pointed out, “it’s a good number.”

The parish is in the process of forming a men’s group, and the women’s organization “has better than 50 members,” according to the pastor, who has had prior experience in church planning and construction at St. John Vianney Church in Lithia Springs and Holy Spirit Church in Atlanta.

Altar boy training began in October and ushers and lectors appear faithfully at all three weekend Masses.

“It’s exciting, a challenge,” said Father Ludden. “One enjoys watching something grow and develop.”

Across from the business park sits the acreage set aside for the building of a permanent church--12 acres in pinery woods.

“The parish finance and building committee is seeing to the construction of a facility,” said Father Ludden, whose rectory is a private home located in a small subdivision off Roswell Road. “Our aim will be to build a church that will be suitable for the growth of the area.”

“There’s much to be done,” he continued, “but the nice thing about the parish is that we have the most important resource--people who are eager, willing and enthusiastic.”

Back at the church, the words of the psalmist are proclaimed by the people in whom Father Ludden’s faith resides. “I shall live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.”

Undaunted by the high-tech surroundings of their present “house”--perhaps welcoming them in the manner of St. Paul in his letter to the Philippians read this Sunday morning, “I have learned...to be well provided for or do without”--the burgeoning community of St. Andrew’s is an undeniable witness to the truth that that Church is the people of God.

“St. Andrew’s represents the tremendous growth the Church has been experiencing in this area and points to the vitality of the Catholic community here,” Father Ludden observed.

“The Church has an important future in Georgia and Atlanta. We are not finished...we are just beginning.”

The latest beginning of the archdiocese, St. Andrew’s Church in the heart of contemporary suburban Atlanta, stands ready to do its part.