At 2 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon, the Whitley Memorial Baptist Church on Peachtree Street is rocking. Half-a-dozen pretty little girls in pastel dresses bang on tambourines, while a four-piece, electrified band crank it up to 11 on Spanish language hymns. Youth pastor Nerin Aranda leads the song and worship of the 40-odd congregants who fill the aisles, jumping, shouting, swaying and collapsing in divine rapture.

At the front of the church, in a corner, a teenager bangs out a furious rhythm on twin congas, his spiky hair swept up and back, like a dorsal fin. He's standing next to a six-piece drum set with a full array of cymbals that crash and clang, piercing the general cacophony of the room.

This is a typical church service for the the Iglesia de Cristo Su Gran Alabanza Assembleos de Dios—only now they may need to pray a little harder. The exuberant parishioners hope to build a new church on Haywood Lane, but a loud cluster of Antioch neighbors doesn't want them there. Some hint—if not flat-out tell you—that they don't want a Hispanic congregation in their backyards, while others say they just don't want to put up with the constant parade of cars rumbling to every service and social.

For much of the last seven years, the Spanish language congregation has met as guests in the little Baptist church on Peachtree Street, owned by the Whitley Memorial congregation, just off Nolensville Road. But the Iglesia de Cristo su Gran Alabanza is expanding, and recently purchased a large piece of land further down Nolensville, on Haywood Lane in Antioch. The land is in a residential neighborhood and is currently occupied by a small ranch-style house. The church would keep the house, but wants to build a new, 10,000-square-foot church behind it, complete with a parking lot for 63 cars.

But tight zoning restrictions and a group of neighbors who like green, open spaces—not to mention peace and quiet—are trying to keep this congregation from, as their pastor says, "constructing our house of the Lord."

The Haywood Lane neighbors have precedent on their side. In 2005, when another church tried to build in the neighborhood, the neighbors rallied to the Metro Board of Zoning Appeals, eventually convincing that church group not to buy on Haywood Lane.

Unfortunately for the Iglesia de Cristo, they've already bought the land. Now, in order to build a church on the property, the Hispanic congregation must get a special zoning exemption from the BZA. The congregation has filed for an exemption but, as in 2005, the neighbors strongly oppose the move.

"It's just not a good fit or a right fit for that lot," says Amelia Workman, who sits on the Haywood Lane Neighborhood Association. She points to traffic issues as the main reason for her opposition, but says that the congregation's initial plan to put a soccer field behind the church also rankles. "We don't feel comfortable with that," she says.

She's not the only one.

"If I'm out layin' by the pool," says David Jones, who lives across the street from where the church would be constructed, "I'd rather not have to listen to Spanish kids playing soccer."

The neighbors insist, not entirely convincingly, that there is no cultural animus directed at the church, which is comprised of mostly Central Americans from Guatemala and El Salvador. "We have a large Latino population [in the neighborhood], we have a large Kurdish population," says Jim Hodge, who represents the area in Metro Council. He also serves as the head of the neighborhood association opposing construction of the church. "We also have various Orientals," he adds. "Korean, Laotian, Thailand...."

Church co-pastor Jorge Dominguez says he hasn't noticed any overt discrimination, though he suspects his congregation's background may not have gone unnoticed. "We have thought about it being a reason [for the neighbors to oppose the church], but we are also naturally sensitive about that."

Dominguez's congregation purchased 343 Haywood Lane for $275,000 in March of this year. The proposed church would lie on a stretch of road that harkens back to Antioch's recent, bucolic past. The lots on that side of the street are nearly three-and-a-half acres and are long and narrow, with neat ranch houses set back from the road. Some folks have swimming pools, koi ponds and little fountains in backyards that stretch out for acres. Special zoning restrictions, enacted by neighbors wary of development, have kept this side of Haywood Lane relatively green and open.

But the rest of the neighborhood looks more like any bustling working class suburb. Haywood is a two-lane road that acts as a major artery, connecting Nolensville Pike and I-24. Residents say that making a left turn into their driveways is often a deadly game of chance, and nobody but a fool would try backing into the street at rush hour.

There are at least three churches on the street, including Christ Lutheran, which has 300 members and a main building that looks like an airport terminal. And then there's the massive development on the north side of Haywood Lane, comprised of dozens of cookie-cutter houses with matching mailboxes and driveways full of cars that clog local roads.

Since the 1980's, neighbors have been fighting to keep the area as green as possible.

Christ Lutheran came to the area in 1989. Neighbors weren't happy about the church building on Haywood, but its leaders made a point to solicit building ideas from neightbors before the first brick was laid, says church pastor Larry Richardson.

Years later, in 2002, the Haywood Lane Neighborhood Association was formed in opposition to a large development at Hollis Hills Lane, on the north side of the thoroughfare.

The neighbors couldn't stop the development, so they agitated to have the south side of Haywood (where the new church would sit) rezoned for low density, single-family dwellings.

The new restrictions met their first test in 2005 when a mostly Anglo church group tried to buy land on Haywood, filing for a special exemption with the BZA to build there. The neighbors showed up in force at the meeting, according to Hodge, and the group, "withdrew the purchase offer when they saw the almost complete neighborhood opposition."

Now comes the Hispanic Assembleos de Dios. Hodge, who's a Realtor, says that he personally informed the agent representing the church about the deed restrictions and land use policy, but they went ahead and closed anyway.

"The only significant difference that I see between that 2005 church group and the present situation," Hodge told the BZA in a hearing last month, "is that the current appellant chose to close the sale without performing their due diligence to determine if they could build at this location."

Hodge implied that these Hispanic parishioners might have to sell their property at a loss if they can't build a church there.

"They put themselves in an awkward position, and may have to, as our friend Dave Ramsey tells us, pay a stupid tax," he told the board, in a reference to the popular talk-show host.

More than 30 neighborhood residents sat behind Hodge as he spoke. All were white and mostly middle-aged folks with thinning, silver hair. They presented the BZA a petition of 200 signatures, asking that the church's special exception be denied.

Steven Morgan, the engineer who designed the congregation's yet-to-be built church, told the board that his clients have been meeting with the community members, and have worked mightily to accommodate the neighborhood's concerns into their building scheme.

The church promised not to develop or disturb the 200 feet of front lawn space at the front of the property for the entire time it owns the land. It also agreed to erect a permanent screen between its property and the neighbors' as well as meeting other "extensive landscaping requirements" and drainage needs, and to leave the house that currently sits on the property intact for as long as they own the property.

Because church leaders barely speak English, they chose not to speak at the BZA hearing. Pastor Dominguez tells the Scene that despite what the neighbors say, no less an authority than God himself told his congregation to buy on Haywood Lane.

"God put it in our hearts to build a church over there," Dominguez says. "I don't know why. God did not tell me specifically why."

God, the neighborhood association and Dominguez's church will all have to wait until August 21 for the BZA to rule on the zoning exception. In the meantime, they want Morgan to perform a traffic study to determine what kind of impact the church's 60-plus congregants will have on crowded Haywood Lane.

Either way, Pastor Dominguez is sure that a higher power has his congregation's back. "When He says yes," Dominguez says, "nobody says no."