If I Only Had More Room
by Dakota Tremayne, a friend and fellow warrior

One thousand words. That phrase has been a burden to me since Laurence uttered it to me some time ago. In that many words I am to tell you what it is that brought my family and I to St. Peter Church. This task I'm afraid is very difficult-nay, impossible-for me to adhere to. For starters, anyone who knows me knows well that when I get on a tangent I have a terrible habit of babbling like an intoxicated wino; occasionally I make less sense. Second, my reasons for bringing my family to St. Peter are not few, and not very meaningful without sufficient detail. Give me ten thousand words to fill and I might be able to compose a decent overview.

Even if I had more room, I wouldn't know where to start. There is much to consider and everything is so entwined that there is no real starting point. I figure that I could start with the people; they are the ones that make the church function in one sense. What I mean is that if there were no people, who would decide on the name of the church? Yes, God would but whom would He tell?

It seems rather shallow to talk about a church with respect to how wonderful the people are, considering the many conversations I hear from people describing their church in terms of how lovely the people are instead of how well the whole council of God is preached. But I could mention in passing that at the previous church I attended I could find only one pickup truck (without a driver, I might add) out of 2700 members to help me move. Here at St. Peter, when Pastor Laurence decided to move, we couldn't find enough room for all of the pickup trucks to fit in his yard.

Now let me not be so vile as to refer to the congregation of St. Peter as just members, as if we are just a group of individuals within the church. We are families; big families, small families, small countries. As God highly regards the family in the Scriptures, so does St. Peter regard its congregation. I would thoroughly enjoy to further this topic of my discourse, but should I do so I would find myself so entrenched with details that it would take many more words than I am allotted to be comprehensive about it.

Speaking of people, I remember when I first met R.C. and Laurence, along with a host of other Reformed brethren at an annual gathering at the Sproul home. Now, I am of the conviction that only Reformed folk really know how to celebrate God's goodness, and this gathering exemplified that. Yet, oddly enough, conservative Arminians would find this occasion bordering on sinful. Not only were there good burgers and hot dogs for enjoyment, but several people enjoyed a good beer (yes, I said beer); and some enjoyed smoking a good cigar (yes, I said smoking). I pity the Arminians: they strip God of His sovereignty, leaving themselves without full hope and assurance; then they take away the wonderful things God gave man to enjoy, making the Christian look miserable and making God look like a sourpuss. Poor Arminians.

Not that that event has anything directly to do with St. Peter, but it does serve to illustrate the mindset of St. Peter. The first time my family and I attended worship at St. Peter, we were overwhelmed with the depth of reverence of the congregation. So much happened within that short period of time that I could not grasp it all; yet I could not get enough. Confession, absolution, congregational prayers, singing... Laurence even preached from the Bible without using polls, pop psychology, or stupid jokes (you know, the court jester never could lead true worship). After my soul was tossed, turned, purged, filled, then moved, I knelt at the Lord's Table to eat and drink of the body and blood of the Lord Jesus. Space is far too limited for me to describe my awe. At several moments my wife wept. What happened in there? she asked me as we left. That was worship, my dear. Worship.

It has taken me months to grasp most of the details of worship at St. Peter. It's not your traditional three hymns and a lecture service, as R.C. calls it; it would not take me several months to digest something that simple. Yet the reasoning behind such an intense liturgy is simple: God commands and deserves all of creation to worship Him fully and totally; and St. Peter is on a quest to do just that, employing whatever means necessary to achieve that end. I am but a layman, and I don't find myself knowledgeable enough to give an accurate explanation of all the liturgy at St. Peter. For that matter, I still don t know all the liturgy; even after all this time.

Now if the obvious has not revealed itself to you thus far, then please allow me to explain my vagueness. St. Peter is very serious about the worship of Almighty God. Every element is given particular attention, being thoroughly scrutinized about its necessity in the church and worship. This presents an interesting question for both laypeople and clergy alike (this is not my original but R.C.'s): For what purpose does the American flag (or any national flag, for that matter) serve within the Protestant church and the worship of God? I mean, why do churches have the flag displayed next to (or sometimes behind) the pulpit for all eyes to view as if it is an icon to be observed within the Christian religion?

That brings to mind the statement that the elders of St. Peter make often: We strive to live more simple, separate, and deliberate lives to the glory of God and the building of His kingdom. I'd love to give my thoughts on that too; if I had more room.