OLD WORLD CHURCHES WITH LONE STAR SOUL
Texas has always had a flair for the unexpected. Yes, there’s bbq and boots and big hair. But tucked between dance halls, cotton fields, and river bends are churches that feel lifted from Bavaria, Spain, and the French coast. Built by immigrants who carried their faith and their architectural heritage across oceans, these sanctuaries are among the most serene and transportive destinations in the state. As you step inside, the noise of modern life fades away.
The Painted Churches of Central Texas
East of Austin, in the small towns of Schulenburg, Praha and Dubina, sit some of the most surprising interiors in the American South. From the outside, the Painted Churches are modest, almost severe. But step through the doors, and you’re met with hand-stenciled walls, trompe l’oeil columns, gilded altars, and ceilings that seem to lift heavenward.
Built by German and Czech immigrants in the late 19th century, these churches were often decorated by artisans who recreated the grandeur of European cathedrals using local materials and sheer devotion. Every pattern was intentional, every color symbolic. It’s maximalism with discipline: ornate, yes, but never loud. To experience these spaces is intimate and reverent, filled with the kind of beauty that rewards stillness.
Don’t rush your visit. These churches ask you to linger.
Mission San José
If Texas has a spiritual anchor, it’s here in San Antonio. Founded in 1720, Mission San José is the most architecturally refined of the San Antonio missions and one of the clearest expressions of Spanish colonial design in North America. Its limestone façade is both fortress and sanctuary, soft and strong, built to endure the elements, time, and history. The Rose Window, delicately carved stone in a Baroque style, feels impossibly romantic for the Texas frontier, a reminder that craftsmanship traveled far even when comfort did not. Inside, thick walls create a hush that modern buildings rarely achieve. This is architecture designed to slow the body, cool the air, and steady the mind. It’s not flashy. It’s powerful. And it’s as effective today as it was when it was constructed.
St. Mary Cathedral Basilica
Galveston has always been a little European at heart, and St. Mary Cathedral Basilica proves it. Built in 1847, this Greek Revival structure with Romanesque details stands just blocks from the Gulf, a reminder of the city’s once-grand status as a port of culture and commerce.
Inside, vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows imported from Europe, and a restrained palette of creams and golds create an atmosphere that feels simultaneously coastal and continental. After the devastation of the 1900 hurricane, the cathedral became a symbol of endurance: faith rebuilt, beauty restored. In contrast to other old world churches across Texas, there’s a quiet glamour here. Less frontier grit, more Old World grace.
Sacred Heart Catholic Church
Fredericksburg’s German heritage is well known, seen in the city’s beer gardens, bakeries, and ever-present precision, But Sacred Heart Catholic Church reveals the town’s more reverent side. Built by German settlers in the late 19th century, the church blends Gothic Revival elements with frontier pragmatism.
The ascending interior draws the eye upward, while warm wood details keep the space grounded and human. It’s a study in balance: aspiration and humility, Europe and Texas, permanence and place. Outside, the Hill Country light softens the structure, making it feel less imposing and more inviting. It’s the kind of church that somehow makes sense exactly where it is.