by Bastiaan de Vries

Some of the most impressive buildings across the world are religious. The great cathedrals in the world, built using the most contemporary techniques of the times and by the best craftsmen that money could buy, are grandiose and tall precisely so they could be seen to reach the heavens themselves. The pyramids in Egypt, arguably some of the most significant architectural wonders in the world, are immense tombs surrounded by mortuary temples. To impress upon people the glory of the gods, organized religion has always employed architects to give them a place to congregate. So, throughout the history of man, religion and architecture have gone hand in hand.

During the turn of the last century, and on a much smaller scale, Bay Area architects, just like their Cathedral-building predecessors, were using the latest in building technologies and techniques to create sacred spaces, to hold scores of people as they came together to rebuild old communities or establish new ones. Because of the forgetful nature of people or the unassuming nature of sacred architecture on a regional level, most of these architects’ names have been lost to time. Even when careful records of the history surrounding these churches and communities have been kept, architects’ names have often been omitted. However, the spaces that these architects created, in turn, created stories for the people who used them, and those stories frequently remain.

Hence, this roadmap is often more like a collection of stories than of architectural facts and figures. But as the buildings still stand, the architectural shapes and voids remain for us to look at and draw our own conclusions from. As you’ll find, all of them are beautiful examples of a style of modernist architecture that was designed for the everyman to come together, to heal, and to prosper.

Also, it’s important to remember that not every building can be a cathedral. Saint Mary of the Assumption in San Francisco (by the architects John Michael Lee, Paul A. Ryan, and Angus McSweeney, together with Pier Luigi Nervi and Pietro Belluschi) is arguably the most impressive example of Modernist sacred architecture we have on this side of the state. Still, it’s also the most obvious one. Like with most Modernist architecture, there is a lot of beauty to be found in the mundane, in the residential, and in the entirely rote and functional types of architecture that are mostly forgotten about by society.

St John the Baptist Catholic Church, Healdsburg, CA.

Designed in 1965 by Thomas H. Fruiht, the St John the Baptist Catholic Church in Healdsburg is notable for being the largest one in Sonoma County. It’s a hulking design, like a square stone slab set into the earth. None of the rounded features in the design of the façade detract from this monolithic quality. The roof, with its gorgeous green patina, reminds us of the work of Frank Lloyd Wright and his many disciples. Otherwise, the church mainly stands out for its imposing character over the rest of the neighborhood. The interior is representative of 1960s architectural design: a lot of dark, exposed brick, smooth white plastered walls, and an organic, visible structure juxtaposed by prominent geometric features on the floors. The altar space, in particular, looks like a stage, a cut-off pentagon shape covered in purple carpeting, ready for production each Sunday.

The church looks absolutely stunning in these black-and-white photographs from the Sonoma County Library Photograph Collection.

Postcard image of St John the Baptist Catholic Church in Healdsburg, CA.

Pacific Union College Church

Another big, hulking design, though this one shows more signs of some architectural finesse once you get past the façade. This campus church sits on the grounds of the Pacific Union College, high up in the Napa Valley area of California. Planning started as early as 1946, but delays, deaths, and arguments over the merits of college versus community churches pushed the start of construction well into 1966. When the Church was finally completed in 1968, it seated 1847 - they ended up having two services on Sunday because, in the intervening years, the number of student members and guests had grown well over 2200.

A 4000-pipe Austrian organ was installed in the early 80s, and as funds became available in the years after, structures were added to the sanctuary to house services like Sunday school and a social hall, and eventually a new bell tower was constructed. It remains as a stunning example of the power of modern building materials. It’s a brutish building that is softened by an exciting attention to detail.

Pacific Union College Church Sanctuary under construction in 1967. — The church sanctuary under construction between 1967 and 1968. Photo by Walter Utt, A Mountain, a Pickax, a College.

Vatican II St. John the Baptist Catholic Church

““The 1966 building was designed by Henry Schubart and Germano Milano. It embraces the then new concepts and ideology model established by the Vatican II Council in 1962. In fact, the present-day church is known as the Vatican II St. John the Baptist Catholic Church. Part of these new precepts were to make the church more open and accessible, including the physical layout of the church interior.””

— Rebecca Yerger, for the Napa Valley Marketplace Magazine

Henry Schubart studied at Taliesen, left because of friction, and then could not return because he could not pay the tuition (which Frank Lloyd Wright himself waived the first time around). Germano Milano was a San Francisco-based architect who worked on the Walters Residence in Hillsborough, CA.

Rebecca Yerger writes about the Second Vatican Council in the early 1960s, taking an opportunity to reexamine the relationship between the Catholic church and the modern world. The council’s message and the subsequent interpretations had some impactful ramifications for the architecture of churches in the future. High- and side-altars were removed, religious artwork was shunned, and statues of saints, elevated pulpits, and even tabernacles had to go to bring the congregation closer to the action; nothing could stand in the way. Whether the council had modernist architecture in mind, it was the perfect opportunity for architects to show off their skills in creating modern, sleek, and bare spaces that could be filled by spirit, not materiality.

Although often considered iconoclastic by opponents of the new liturgical theory (who frequently described these new spaces as “Protestant” and “like airport terminals”), the humanist ideals of architectural modernism fell perfectly in line with this new way of placing the congregation closer to the center of the action. To provide a space for humans to be healed and nurtured is a core tenet of Modernist architecture, and churches like this one in Napa are great examples of architects doing what they do best within the confines of the client’s brief, in this case, the Vatican, and the people of Napa.

Frank Lloyd Wright’s influence on the architects seems evident from this angle.

Most Holy Rosary Church

This is a great-looking, anonymous building featuring all the space-age, sharp-edged stylings of 1960s construction. Architects across the Bay Area toiled away at designing little architectural gems like this and are now essentially, and sadly, forgotten. Stucco and stone proved to be a popular aesthetic combination during the '60s and the ‘70s, and you can find it used anywhere from houses and apartment buildings to banks and factories, even gas stations and more. This church has that near monochromatic pale brown look going for it that you can see all over the Bay area on buildings from the same era. Regardless, the angles on this church are the real standout; they go in all directions and create an exciting façade to what could otherwise be a pretty unremarkable little structure.

Central United Methodist Church

The Central United Methodist Church in Stockton, CA, was designed by the famous design team Anshen & Allen in 1964. The architectural partners designed some early tract homes for Joseph Eichler and John Calder Mackay in California. They were also responsible for the truly stunning Chapel of the Holy Cross in Sedona, Arizona. Closer to home, they designed several significant buildings on the UC Berkeley campus, including the Lawrence Hall of Science.

Photos of this church under construction show the structural frame looking like the bones of a giant beached whale. It's something straight out of a J.G. Ballard science fiction story. Even with the Bay Area period correct roofing on, the concrete “bones” stick out from every angle to lend this structure the appearance of a leviathan. Anshen & Allen pierced the structure’s skin above the entrance, with the concrete rib-like arches serving as impressive entryways. The church's interior continues that theme, with the structure still in full view and guiding the view onwards and upwards. The exposed concrete is set against the warm tones of the wood paneling running up to the top of the structure, not entirely inside the belly of a beast but inside a sacred space designed to hold and protect its congregation. The altar space in this church is all wood, which is a nice change from the usual velour-like carpeting that most churches use.

Christian World Church

This modest church in Livermore is a shining example of the A-frame design ideally suited to enhance the religious experience. It’s a sharp-looking building on a main avenue, surrounded by otherwise unremarkable-looking suburban architecture. It shoots up into the sky and looks picturesque on bright and sunny days. The structure on the inside features extensive, white concrete ribs lazily arching towards the top center of the church. On the inside, it feels snug like an A-frame should, though.

There is nothing quite so beautiful in modernist architecture as a well-executed A-frame. Architect Rudolph Schindler was arguably the first to propel the A-frame design into the modernized and industrialized age. Gay icon John Campbell perfected it with the Leisure House in the 1950s. It has become a staple of architecture ever since, regardless of its use - although it should be said that the A-frame often looks best in smaller-scale residential architecture.

East Bay Korean Christian Reformed Church

While there is limited information about this church, its presence in El Cerrito invites reflection on the experiences of Korean immigrants in the Bay Area. The region has long been home to a vibrant Korean community, many of whom emigrated in search of safety, stability, and opportunity during periods of historical upheaval or economic hardship. For some, the decision to leave Korea was deeply personal and complex, often involving sacrifices such as separation from family and homeland. Over time, many have built new lives here, raising children and grandchildren who contribute to the rich multicultural fabric of the United States while maintaining connections to their Korean heritage.

The act of coming together as a community—whether through shared cultural traditions or religious practices—has long been a source of strength and resilience for immigrant groups. In this context, a church like the one in El Cerrito serves as more than just a place of worship; it can also be a space for preserving cultural identity, fostering intergenerational bonds, and offering mutual support. While Korea has historically been shaped by diverse spiritual traditions (including Buddhism, Confucianism, Shamanism, and Christianity), religion continues to play varying roles in the lives of individuals across both North and South Korea. The creation of such communal spaces abroad reflects the adaptability and resourcefulness of immigrant communities. Under the striking modernist dome of this church in El Cerrito, one can imagine the profound sense of belonging and connection it provides.

Christ the King Lutheran Church

This sanctuary is interesting because although it looks like it belongs in the 1960s, it was built in 1983. The two adjoining buildings, now a social hall and preschool, were built in 1962, though they have some of the classic concrete touches of that time in construction. The sanctuary resembles a bird about to take flight or an origami ballerina. The folds rest on a flat-roofed structure that holds various functional spaces. Each fold, in turn, encloses the sanctuary space using gorgeous glass-in-lead panels depicting various religious scenes.

The adjoining buildings feature interesting concrete archways and are now covered in solar panels. The church is a member of California Interfaith Power & Light, which recognizes global warming and promotes renewable energy. Read more on that here: https://www.interfaithpower.org/about-us/

Sunnyvale United Methodist Church

The construction of sacred architecture often takes place over a long period. Cathedrals could take decades, sometimes even centuries, to build. Frequently, land is bought or gifted, and an architect is subsequently chosen to make designs for all the buildings to go on that land. Usually, other, more practical structures are built first, including assembly halls, parlors, offices, classrooms, et cetera. When it’s finally time for the sanctuary to be built, enough time has passed that everyone is itching for something new, and the original design is put aside in favor of a new design by a new architect. Such is the case for this church. Nine years after initial designs were made by Berkeley Architect Carlton A. Steiner in 1953, the church hired Architect Donald Powers Smith to design a new sanctuary building. Groundbreaking took place in 1962, and this gorgeous church is the result.

“Mr Smith designed the sanctuary to be a building which would harmonize, not clash with, St. Martin’s newly completed building [next lot over]. He gave FMC a tall, many sided A-frame exterior to contrast with St. Martin’s “sphere” shape. [...] Members of the congregation added their own touch to the exterior walls of the sanctuary by inserting designs of colored pebbles into the fresh cement.”

— Sunnyvale United Methodist Church

St. Ann’s Chapel

Here is another fantastic example of mid-century ecclesiastical architecture. Architect Vincent Raney designed this chapel sometime before 1951, when the building was officially dedicated. Raney was exceptionally well-known for creating impressive-looking domed theaters, including some right next to the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose. He also designed over 600 service stations for the Associated Oil Company in San Francisco.

The chapel was commissioned by Clare Boothe Luce (1903-1987). Her best-known play is the 1936 hit The Women. She was also a war correspondent for Life magazine and the first American woman to represent the United States to a major world power. Luce was Connecticut’s first congresswoman (1943–47) and received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1983. After her daughter was killed in an automobile accident, she turned to religion to process her trauma. The chapel has been dedicated to her daughter’s memory since its inception. The Anglican Province of Christ the King has since acquired the chapel and restored it to the original design by Vincent Raney. It remains a touching and impressive example of modernist design in the Bay Area.

First Palo Alto United Methodist Church

Thanks to the people of this church, we can access some of the excellent documentation on this impressive-looking sanctuary. From their website (https://firstpaloalto.com/mission-history/):

“During this period, Carlton Arthur Steiner of Berkeley was selected to be the architect for this challenging project. [...] Finally, the plans were drawn and approved, and construction on the 1,050-person capacity “Contemporary Gothic” building began. The general contractor was Theo G. Meyer and Sons of San Francisco.”

So, in this case, we have not only the name of the architect but also the name of the general contractor. If you think architects’ names are soon forgotten, the names of the contractors are nearly always out of sight, out of mind. The church website lists some of the fantastic construction this company did:

“The “bones” of the new sanctuary were 19 massive poured-in-place concrete piers that extend from beneath the basement level upward to meet 73 feet above the main aisle. Other basic structural elements were poured in place except the roof panels, which were precast, raised by a crane, and tied together at the ridge. 1,500 brilliantly hued small glass inserts were installed from a high interior scaffold. To ensure good acoustics, the face of the balcony was undulated. The unique circular motif lighting fixtures, made of spun steel with a brass finish, weigh 600 lbs and were bolted to the roof.”

The First United Methodist Church of Palo Alto — Sancuary of the First United Methodist Church of Palo Alto. Photo by Robb Most.

It’s easy to get stuck on the design of a building sometimes and forget that a whole host of contractors and other craftsmen get involved to build what the architect came up with. It’s an impressive feat of design and engineering from everyone involved. For being his first church, architect Carlton Arthur Steiner delivered a remarkable design that is still striking today.

St. Andrew Catholic Churcy

1975. St. Andrew Catholic Church, 1571 Southgate Ave. Daly City, CA. Architect unknown.

Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church is an exciting-looking church building of its era. The shape of the roof, especially, is a staple of 1960s and 1970s Modernist architecture. More recently, the church added a statue garden, which adds to the allure of the building. The interior is primarily no-frills - again, we see the congregation close up to the action, without anything getting in the way. The use of wood in the altar area is inspired and gives the perspective from the pews a definite warmth and comfort.

The website mentions that the congregation started as predominantly Caucasian and, since the 1980s, has welcomed Filipino, Samoan, Burmese, Hispanic, and other non-white members of its community to their services. It’s a good reminder that even when a building is built in the context of its community, that context is prone to change when that community changes (especially in a place like the Bay Area), and the building should be allowed to change with it. The notion that a building is a static object is something of the past. Modernism was aware that the building should allow for multiple iterations of itself, to change according to the occupants' needs (a great example to investigate would be the Rietveld Schröder House).

Most older buildings would simply be torn down, to allow for a new building to enact that kind of change. Hopefully this church - a building that most people describe as looking old-fashioned - can move with the times, and adapt to the new future of architecture in the same way that it adapted to its community.

Sanctuary, Saint Andrew Catholic Church.

Congregation Beth Israel Judea

This is one of many sacred buildings on a stretch of road called Brotherhood Way, in San Francisco - an architecture lover’s dream location, and on a sunny day the perfect place to see some wonderful examples of how they used to build sacred spaces during and after the turn of the century. The street used to be a wash, draining into Lake Merced, but now is home to several sacred buildings, including a Masonic Temple, an Armenian School, a Synagogue, and Catholic and Christian churches.

“Rabbi Gottlieb says his synagogue, Congregation Beth Israel Judea, is what sparked the idea to name the street Brotherhood Way. “Once it became a place of interfaith worship and gathering, the city fathers, or elders were persuaded to change the name to Brotherhood Way to reflect the ideals of our communities. ”

— Truc Nguyen, KALW Public Media

This particular temple has a history of bringing communities together. First, in the late 1960s, when Congregation Beth Israel joined Temple Judea, and more recently, when Beth Israel Judea, in turn, joined Congregation B’nai Emunah. Communities change over time in so many ways, but it’s heartening to see that this building is still standing. It’s a gorgeous example of midcentury modern architecture, with its large A-frame windows, the white concrete on red brick color combo, and the dark brown roof tiles.

Pine United Methodist Church

Hidden on a nondescript block of the Outer Richmond in San Francisco, this church quietly hits all the right architectural buttons for lovers of Modernism. There are pilotis, non-structural walls everywhere, clerestory windows, diagonal angles to the roof, large square windows sheltering an open-air courtyard, et cetera. All the details that make up this Methodist church are ones that Docomomo-Noca loves to celebrate.

Also, as I alluded to in the intro to this article, Modernism does not always have to mean immediate wow-factor. Sometimes great architecture takes time to reveal what makes it work. Sometimes, the aesthetics of a building are totally unrelated to its function - the unassuming nature of the visuals is a direct result of the priority of function. The user decides if the building is successful, not the MCM fans like myself skulking outside the windows on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Ultimately, the building forgoes the wow factor in favor of playing nice with the rest of the neighborhood.

Chapel of the Cross, Zaytuna College, Berkeley

1965. Chapel of the Cross, Grizzly Peak Blvd. at 2770 Marin Avenue, Berkeley, CA. Architect James Leefe.

Who knew that the Bay Area was hiding some explicitly Corbusian-inspired architecture? However, this gorgeous little chapel offers more of a distinct Bay Area identity if you look beyond the obvious references to Chapelle Notre-Dame du Haut. Part of a campus, the structure sits a little out of the way, tucked into the corner in an unglamorous way. Where Le Corbusier’s Chapel looks out across the gorgeous Eastern French fields, Architect James Leefe’s chapel looks into residential backyards and tree lines.

All eyes are on the chapel itself then, and boy does it deliver. Made out of concrete and looking so perfectly 1960s, the chapel is all structure and all business. It looks grand and glorious in a way no 200-seater could or should. It’s truly a perfect example of the Modernism of its era - an honesty in materials, a desire to elevate the user's experience, and a blind eye to the glitz and glamour of starchitecture. Visiting this chapel is a process of exaltation in the best way sacred architecture can do it.

Photographs on the American Craft Council's website show off some of the great details inside the building; the roaming eye goes from red tile to black tile to wood molding to bare concrete to floating wooden benches to green fabric to bronze handles to a pale ceramic baptismal font. Who knows what it looks like on the inside right now, but hopefully, the new owners (Zaytuna College, the first accredited Muslim undergraduate college in the United States) are taking good care of this absolute gem.

Corpus Christi Catholic Church

Architect and urban planner Mario Ciampi is responsible for some of the most exciting buildings in the Bay Area, architecturally speaking. This church, designed by Ciampi in the early 1950s in the Excelsior neighborhood of San Francisco, is a somewhat hidden gem worthy of some special attention. It’s a perfect example of sacred architecture that has to play nice with the residential architecture that surrounds it.

“CHURCH OF THE WEEK - Corpus Christi Catholic Church, Alemany and Santa Rosa-av. this week was named ‘one of the few great churches of the world’ by architect Emil Frei of St. Louis. Born in San Francisco, Frei holds the American Institute of Architecture gold medal for liturgical arts. He characterized the design of the church ‘new and fresh’, honest without pretension, like religion’. Corpus Christi Church was designed by architect Mario Ciampi. Pastor is Rev. David Zunino. Erected in 1952, the modern building replaces the former church which was constructed in 1898. ‘Visiting architects and clergymen from many countries are being attracted to view the church.”

— Newscopy, San Francisco Public Library (http://sflib1.sfpl.org:82/record=b1005681)

It looks unassuming from most angles except the front, where the impressive façade takes up all the attention. It’s an entirely different story on the inside, though. There are exciting angles wherever you look, serenity in materials and voids, and an experience that is a step above many other churches in the Bay Area.

It’s worth noting that the façade was designed and built to be even more impressive but has since been altered significantly. Former Docomomo Northern California Chapter president Hannah Lise Simonson mentions: “there were projecting cross-shaped aluminum mullions (creating a depth of profile that no longer exists) and the glazing was multi-colored (since replaced with brownish tint glass).”

Corpus Christi Church facade from Life Magazine 1955. — Photo from “A Luster in Churches” LIFE, April 11, 1955.

“A Luster in Churches” LIFE, April 11, 1955

We’ve ended our little road trip across Northern California, checking out some fantastic sacred architecture. History is prone to disappear in today’s fast-moving modern world, and people tend to forget the details when they’re not consistently reminded or required to present, so filling in the blanks becomes a necessary evil when it comes to doing architecture research on Modernist architecture that isn’t focused on big name starchitects. However, when you focus on the human inside the (noteworthy) architecture, you are bound to find your way. I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip! And, as always, if you know of any great examples of sacred architecture yourself, please let us know! Email or tag us @docomomonoca and #midcenturytravel on Instagram.

Bastiaan de Vries lives and works in San Francisco. When he is not out scouring the streets for hidden and forgotten Mid Century Modern architecture, he’s at home working on imaginary designs of them. Some of his favorite architects include João Batista Vilanova Artigas, Rudolph Schindler, and Louis Kahn. His favorite Mid Century Modern house in the Bay Area is the Donald and Helen Olsen House in Berkeley.

Sacred Architecture