Beneath the Steeples

Where do you go to church?” Some circles consider that an extremely personal question. But in the Panhandle, it’s a question you’re likely to hear not long after meeting someone new. Religion is the cultural currency of this region, and we’re as comfortable talking about it as we are the weather.

But while local people are intimately familiar with their own faith traditions or denominations—their “home church” or “home parish” in religious language—they tend to know very little about the church next door. “Church” can be a singular aesthetic: the specific grain of a church pew, the hardware of a pendant light, the way the sun hits the carpet at 11 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Yet the church across the street, or a couple blocks over, remains a mystery.

In this feature, we step into that mystery, exploring the sacred spaces of Amarillo and Canyon. From light-filled cathedrals to weathered chapels with scuffed pews, we guide you through sanct

First Baptist Church

1208 S. Tyler St.
Dr. Howie Batson, Pastor

The cathedral-like sanctuary of First Baptist is truly a marvel. Its original meeting house at 500 S. Pierce St. in the city’s first decade was replaced by a stately sanctuary at Ninth and Polk in 1909. In the late 1920s, FBC began planning its current home on Tyler, which now encompasses multiple blocks in downtown Amarillo.

Then-pastor G.L. Yates hired Gabriel Ferrand, a prominent French-born architect from St. Louis, Missouri, to design the building, with legendary Amarillo architect Guy Carlander overseeing the construction. Ferrand eventually left the project, but his European-inspired vision resulted in a worship space unlike any in Amarillo, with Italian Romanesque arches, carved and painted terra cotta forms, and Byzantine Revival pillars. It’s now part of the National Register of Historic Places.

“I love the color,” says Howard K. Batson, who has pastored FBC since 1995. “Normally, you think of cathedrals as being very gray, a lot of stone, but I just love the Italian colors. You’ve got turquoise and coral and red. The reality is this would never be done again.”

The arches to the right and left of the carved dome match the design, and were painted by church member Emin A. Abbasov, a well-known traditional artist. “That is a change we made under my watch. They were just white,” Batson says. Under Batson’s direction, the church has worked tirelessly to protect and restore the church’s historic elements. “We take—pride’s not the right word, but we think it matters how things look,” he says.

The tiled ceiling includes a unique tile featuring a painted eye. Batson says he’s heard it represents the all-seeing eye of God—something of a hidden element the architects included without permission. “It’s the only tile like that. It’s caused a stir over the years,” he says, acknowledging a few rumors and conspiracy theories. “People who don’t know anything about our sanctuary know about the eyeball.”

“One thing I really like is the intimacy of the room,” Batson says. “We seat about 1,500, but the reality is, I’m very close.” The architecture situates balcony worshipers very near to the pulpit area, and there’s almost as much seating in the balcony as on the ground floor. Around 4,000 members attend FBC on an average Sunday, including its ethnic churches.

Polk Street Methodist Church

1401 S. Polk St.
Rev. Lesly Broadbent, Lead Pastor

Like other prominent downtown churches, Polk Street Methodist built its current home in the late 1920s, after outgrowing other smaller buildings. The modified Gothic sanctuary was finished in 1928, complete with a carillon tower, 1,000-seat sanctuary and pipe organ containing 4,000 pipes.

Interestingly, very little of the stained glass is original to the building. A severe storm struck shortly after the new church opened, with accounts of baseball-size hail. “My daddy remembers my grandfather sitting on the curb crying, because the hailstorm had broken out so many of the windows,” says Lynn White, a third-generation member and one of Polk Street’s archivists. “He’d never seen his daddy cry before.” The church couldn’t immediately afford to replace the windows and opted for the amber-tinted cathedral glass that fills the sanctuary today.

Behind the altar and choir loft, this 2,500-piece window depicting the Last Supper was installed in 1974. It was created by the Stained Glass Institute of Santa Fe, New Mexico. The seven panels only show 11 of the 12 disciples, reflecting the absence of Judas.

The wood pews are original, but not all of the dark wood in the sanctuary is actually stained wood. In the 1950s, Dr. Eugene Slater had the inside of the sanctuary painted white, including the balcony paneling. The pillars and front panels of the balcony have since been repainted with wood texture to match the original pews. “It’s back to looking like wood,” White says. “But it’s not the wood— it’s been painted.”

This striking 2,864-piece window faces Polk Street and was installed in 1952. It’s 28 feet tall and known within the church as the “Good Shepherd window.” When the sanctuary is lit at night, it glows from within, visible on Polk. But archivist Malissa Alexander, a member of the choir, appreciates a different perspective. “We get to sit in the choir loft and as the light on the outside changes, the colors in the picture change. [They] become a deeper blue and deeper red,” she says.

First Presbyterian Church

1100 S. Harrison St.
Rev. Dr. Howard Griffin, Senior Pastor

The downtown church now known as First Presbyterian started as the Cumberland Presbyterian Church at Seventh and Fillmore, then became Fillmore Street Presbyterian, then Central Presbyterian (located in a new building at 10th and Taylor). As the city grew, church members secured the existing location and opened the current sanctuary in 1927. The congregation became known as First Presbyterian in 1943.

Its exterior design includes English Gothic revival elements, including arches and lancet windows. The sanctuary’s unique wooden vaulted ceiling, chandeliers and arch design extend that Gothic revival influence. “It has a sense of awe,” says Murray Gossett, associate pastor of outreach and adults, a staff member for more than three decades. “You hope people feel like they’re preparing to worship when they come into a space.”

The warm, vaulted wood ceiling stands out among most local church interiors, creating a wave-like rhythm as your eye moves toward the chancel. It helps project sound forward and outward while softening acoustics reflecting off the stone walls.

Gossett points to the enormous stained glass windows which serve as a focal point above the altar. These jewel-toned windows are not original to the building, but were added during a renovation in the 1960s. They were created by the Willet Stained Glass Studios in Philadelphia. The three sections of the window subtly depict the Trinity. The left lancet includes Old Testament scenes, which tell the story of God the Father. The central section depicts the life of Jesus, and the right lancet highlights scenes from Acts and the early church, guided by the Holy Spirit.

Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church

1210 SE 11th Ave.
Fr. Taylor Elzner, Pastor

Dedicated as Sacred Heart Cathedral downtown in 1918, the oldest Catholic church in Amarillo moved into the Barrio later that year and was renamed Our Lady of Guadalupe. It’s actually older than the local Catholic diocese, which wasn’t established until 1926.

“It started because of the Hispanic population,” says Gloria Alonzo-Carlile, who has been worshiping at Our Lady since childhood. The arrival of the Santa Fe Railroad to Amarillo brought many workers of Mexican heritage. The local Catholic church was established to serve them. It’s named for the 1531 apparition of the Virgin Mary in Guadalupe, Mexico, now a powerful symbol of Mexican Catholic identity.

Gloria says her grandfather and great-grandfather helped build the current church building, which has been at this location since 1927. “It’s part of my heritage. To me, it has that old church feeling, like churches in New Mexico or downstate, like an old Mexican church.” Around 500 households are served by the parish, which celebrated its 100th anniversary in 2018.

The Stations of the Cross along the walls of the sanctuary guide worshipers through Jesus’ final hours. Donated by P.F. Burke of Webster, Massachusetts, in memory of Michael J. and Joanna Burke, these paintings were also restored in recent years, having turned darker with age.

The stained glass windows were added around 30 years ago by an artisan near Lubbock. The “falling roses” in the design reflect the classic Guadalupe miracle narrative, in which Mary tells young Juan Diego to gather roses blooming out of season and carry them in his cloak as a sign to the bishop. When the roses spill out, they miraculously reveal an image of Mary in the fabric of his cloak.

Most of the interior statues were purchased and donated by local families. This devotional statue of Mary dates back to the church’s first year. It was painstakingly restored for the 100th anniversary by Chriss Clifford of Sorellas Studio in Clarendon. Formerly positioned in a central niche behind the altar, the statue was moved during the 2018 renovations. The painted rays of light were added at that time. “Mary is [now] looking up at her son being crucified,” Gloria says.

St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

1601 S. Georgia St.
The Rev. Jared Houze, Rector

The Episcopal Diocese of Amarillo formed St. Andrew’s as a mission in 1891, just a few years after the city’s founding. Early members worshipped in homes before a brick building was built at Ninth and Fillmore in 1918. Church growth led to new construction at its current location on Georgia Street. But in 1996, a devastating fire consumed the main worship building, fellowship hall and other parts of the church.

The community rebuilt and, in 2002, began worshiping in a new sanctuary. Highlights include its stone walls, the morning light that streams through the massive windows, and the historic Aeolian-Skinner Opus 1024 pipe organ.

The vaulted, curved timber rafters in the ceiling of the sanctuary follow the traditional symbolism of the Ark. Known as the Nave, from the Latin navis (“ship”), the sanctuary is thought of as a ship carrying the faithful through the stormy seas of life.

Most of the walls are made of Austin stone, but a narrow band of rock every few feet was quarried from the Canadian River. “You can look around and find pieces of petrified wood and fossils in there,” says longtime St. Andrew’s member David Stidham.

The sculpted figures in Italian marble on the baptismal font were carved by sculptor Tracy H. Sugg after the previous font was desecrated during a 2023 break-in. The faces depict St. Paul, St. John the Baptist, St. Andrew and St. Mary Magdalene.

Johnson Chapel AME Church

1910 N. Washington St.
Rev. Darrell E. Turner, Pastor

Johnson Chapel African Methodist Episcopal traces its history back to 1927, when members gathered in a local home on Van Buren Street. Prof. Silas C. Patten, a prominent educator and pastor in the North Heights, was one of the founders. Notably, the church was led in the 1950s by the Rev. Mrs. I.Z. Chance during some of the most turbulent periods of segregation. Female-led congregations of any kind were rare and significant in the Panhandle, but hers faced something of a “double glass ceiling,” given the traditional gender roles and racial hostility of that era.

“I’ve been here for many years,” says Gloria Roberts, a trustee of the church. “It’s just always felt like home. I think that our church is probably one of the prettiest churches in the neighborhood over here.”

B.C. Austin, a relatively new member of Johnson Chapel, returned to Amarillo after several decades in Colorado. “I walked in, and there is a quiet, peaceful stillness that I felt when I opened those doors,” she says.

The original church building is now a small chapel behind the current sanctuary, which was built in the 1950s. Rev. Chance oversaw the construction.

The tapestry behind the baptistry was purchased and framed by a member long ago. The beautiful stained glass windows are protected by a plexiglass shield on the exterior. “You should be here first thing in the morning when the sun comes up and shines through,” Roberts says.

Paramount Baptist Church

3801 S. Western St.
Dr. Jeremy McMorris, Lead Pastor

Established by First Baptist Church on what was the southwest edge of town in the late 1950s, Paramount first met in the nearby Paramount Terrace Elementary School. It built a small chapel in 1960 and expanded into its current auditorium in 1972.

“I like the simplicity of it,” says Victor Miller, Paramount’s executive pastor, of the worship space. He grew up in the church in the 1970s and has been on staff since 1988. “It’s not ornate, but I like the stained glass windows. Each window is different and tells a story,” Miller says.

The enormous chandelier always attracts attention from visitors. Around 12 feet across, it lowers from the ceiling so the globes can be cleaned once a year. “That inner set of crystals and globes are still hard to reach, so we have to build scaffolding,” Miller says. It wasn’t part of the original sanctuary, but was purchased in the 1970s by church members to honor the mother of then-pastor C.N. “Shad” Rue.

Paramount’s sanctuary is known locally for the bright morning and evening light that streams through its thick, colored-glass windows. Architecturally, these are known as Dalle de verre (French for “glass slab”) and are much thicker than traditional stained glass.

Miller appreciates the intimacy of the space, thanks to its wraparound balcony. “Even though it holds 800-plus people, from the stage it doesn’t feel like you’re in a huge auditorium,” he says.

St. John the Prodromos Eastern Orthodox Church

1101 Bell St.

Many Amarillo residents have driven by St. John’s without realizing it’s home to the only local church aligned with the Christian Orthodox tradition. Orthodoxy is one of the three branches of Christianity, alongside Protestantism and Catholicism—the result of a schism in which theological differences split the East (Orthodox) and West (Catholicism).

Officially called Saint John the Prodromos, the Amarillo community belongs to the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese but serves all Orthodox families in the region. Right now, the local parish doesn’t have a permanent, resident priest, though a visiting priest comes once a month from Lubbock. Meanwhile, the growing congregation is lay-led by chanters Rusty Hanson and John Stell, who guide the Divine Liturgy.

“When I first started coming to this parish, it was kind of dying,” Hanson says. “There were maybe only three other people here for one of the first services I attended.” Nationally, the tradition has experienced a boom in recent years, including in Amarillo. “We don’t have enough room for the people that come in here on a Sunday,” he says.

This particular altar is a special one used by the local Ethiopian and Eritrean Orthodox community, who are part of the Oriental Orthodox tradition and meet separately on Sunday mornings. While we were unable to confirm this with the church leadership, the altar typically covers a consecrated altar tablet handled only by clergy.

In the Orthodox tradition, the solid wall behind the altar is known as an iconostasis. “That’s the holy altar, like the Holy of Holies, where the priest mainly presides. Very few people are actually allowed back there,” Stell says. The icons on the iconostasis come from Amarillo’s first Orthodox church, built in 1948 on Taylor Street. The current structure dates to the 1960s. “The icons are—I guess, a modern way of saying it is that they are windows to heaven. We believe in Orthodox theology that the icons make present those who are depicted,” Hansen says. More than art or decoration, they represent the “great cloud of witnesses” described by the author of Hebrews. “We are all in liturgy together, worshiping at the same time.”

Temple B’nai Israel

4316 Albert Ave.
Larry Dov’ Batchlear, Chaplain

Amarillo’s three original Jewish families organized this community in the early 1900s, holding services in available buildings before constructing their first synagogue at Tyler and 24th. By 1968, a new temple had been built on Albert in west Amarillo. Its stained glass windows were installed later in the 1970s.

The synagogue belongs to the Union for Reform Judaism but strives to meet the spiritual needs of all Jewish worshipers. “We’re the only temple in the Panhandle area,” says Larry Dov’ Batchlear, who leads the community’s day-to-day spiritual care and programming. He’s affiliated with the Neshama: Association of Jewish Chaplains and serves as a Jewish Community Had’rachah Leader for the Temple. Batchlear says fewer than 50 local Jewish families are served by the temple. “We’re down to just a few people who keep things going,” he says.

The sacred cabinet at the front of the synagogue is called Aron Kodesh, which is Hebrew for “Holy Ark.” The focal point of the room, it protects the community’s sacred Torah scrolls. Most synagogues, including this one, keep the Ark on the wall that faces Jerusalem. The carved imagery on the cabinet symbolizes the Tree of Life and the Lion of Judah. They reflect a renovation in the 1980s.

According to Batchlear, the six-sided ceiling design echoes symbolic Jewish geometry, like the six-pointed Star of David or the sewn panels of a six-sided yarmulke, a Jewish head covering worn as a sign of reverence. “So when you step in, it’s like God is putting a cover” on your head, he says.

The “In Memoriam” panels installed in the sanctuary contain the names of community members who have passed, and date back to some of the original Jewish families in the Panhandle. These are yahrzeit memorial boards (yahrzeit refers to the anniversary of a person’s death). “In Jewish custom and tradition, a person lives forever as long as your name is mentioned one time a year on the anniversary of your passing,” Batchlear says. While many Jews will light a 24-hour memorial candle at home, the synagogue mirrors that tradition by publicly illuminating the bulb next to a person’s name during the month they died. The glowing bulbs make grief communal, bringing “to light” the name of the loved one. (This photo was taken in February 2026.)

St. Ann’s Catholic Church

605 38th St., Canyon
Fr. Scott L. Raef, Pastor

The Canyon history of St. Ann’s dates back to the 1920s, when it was considered a mission parish. It became its own parish in the 1950s. The original St. Ann’s building still stands at the intersection of Sixth Avenue and 21st Street, now a Church of Christ. Fr. Scott Raef, who has served this parish since 2019, affectionately refers to that old adobe building as the “Taco Bell church.”

St. Ann’s current nave and sanctuary were built in the 1960s to serve the Canyon Catholic community, which includes around 750 households. “What’s really special about St. Ann’s is [that] it has the traditional kind of cruciform look to it, the shape of a cross,” Raef says. “The sanctuary is very grand and elevated and it looks more like a traditional Catholic church than a lot of churches in our area.”

He points out an important distinction. “Protestants usually call the entire church ‘the sanctuary,’ but for us, the sanctuary is the elevated area where the altar is,” he says. As in other liturgical spaces, the seating area is known as the nave. In the Catholic tradition, St. Ann is the mother of the Virgin Mary and the maternal grandmother of Jesus.