On Palm Sunday, I was traveling through Dallas-Fort Worth Airport (DFW) on my way home from CPAC 2026 and, having gone through security very early, I had a few hours to spare inside the terminal (thanks, Congress). So, I did what I usually do when I have extra time in airports — I looked for the chapel.
Airport chapels have long been a curiosity of mine, ever since I discovered they exist. I used to have terrible flying anxiety, and I found it comforting to stop in, pray, and look over the guest book to see what experience others have had in that space. It has always seemed a uniquely American privilege, a recognition of God’s sovereignty in the skies as well as on Earth. In recent years, I’ve noticed the chapels disappearing. Some major hubs have placed them outside the terminals, perhaps to accommodate the ever-growing number of Muslims staffing our airports.
I find it sad and frustrating, so I was pleasantly surprised to discover DFW had reinstalled their chapel since my last visit years ago. In fact, they had three (I have since learned there are two more outside the terminal). With hours left until my flight, I decided to visit them all — terminals B, D, and E.
What I found was the opposite of pleasant. They were essentially mini-mosques, labeled as “interfaith” chapels.
Chapel One
The first “chapel” had a prayer bench, at least. But it also included a lot of Islamic imagery and two large cabinets jammed with Islamic prayer rugs.
No crosses. Not a single one.
That chapel was empty. I left without praying. I didn’t like it and I didn’t feel comfortable. I left a note in the guest book — “Not a single cross but a hundred prayer rugs.” I headed out to the next terminal.
Chapel Two
That experience was even more disappointing. There was even less in that “chapel” to point to Christianity. There was a stained-glass window with vague imagery and some Bibles tucked on shelves. But prayer rugs were everywhere, including hanging on the racks on the wall. A sign encouraged the faithful to “look up” to find Mecca — a compass was painted on the ceiling.
When I arrived, there was one man already in the room. He had on an employee uniform and was a luggage handler or something similar. He had his shoes off, as if he’d just finished praying, and he was chilling out on the chairs watching a video on his phone. I was surprised to see him and surprised to hear his phone playing in a sacred space.
“Oh, hello!” I greeted him, startled. He looked surprised but said nothing. I sat down and took out my Bible and began to read silently, stopping once in a while to pray the Lord’s Prayer.
He turned up his phone. After a few minutes, he sighed loudly, muttered something under his breath, and took out a prayer rug, laying it out in the middle of the room. He began his prayers and chanting and bowing, and having seen these rituals before, I reasoned he would be finished in about five minutes or so. He was not.
The room featured some stained glass. Kind of a cross? If you squint and pretend and think hard about crosses?
Waiting out Various Visitors
At this time of day, several men were praying, facing their rugs to that far right corner. Naturally I did not photograph or video anyone who entered the chapel.
At each pass of the ritual, he was louder and louder. I began to read the Word out loud too. And when he got louder, so did I. We were speaking in normal inside voices, but we were definitely competing.
By minute 10, I realized he wasn’t going to finish and leave. He was determined to stay … and so was I.
After another 10 minutes or so, another gentleman entered the room. He too seemed surprised to see me and he immediately said something to Phone Guy in Arabic, who had since risen from the prayer rug to greet the new man. They pointed to me and spoke aggressively. I only recognized a few words — Islam, woman, Palm Sunday … perhaps they were trying to work out why I would be in there during their prayer time and understood a bit about the Christian calendar.
They returned to the rugs together and spent another 10 minutes praying. The friend then left, but Phone Guy sat back down and turned his phone back on.
I kept praying. I was suddenly aware of how isolated the “chapel” was, and how frosty it felt in there. I felt as though the man was squatting there until I left. But I knew I had five hours on my side, and he had work.
I kept praying.
Eventually another man came in, shoes off — he was ready to pray. Phone Guy finally stood up and said something to the man and then left. That man prayed, longer than normal, and did not leave until two more men came to pray. One man, who was clearly traveling through, stopped in to pray, but he moved through his rituals quickly, quietly, and politely. He didn’t seem at all bothered by my presence.
By that time I’d determined not to leave until the last Muslim had cleared out. I was not going to be run off from a space that is supposed to be a House of God.
Disrespectful to Every Faith
And about that … some people have criticized me for sharing this story, saying I was the one who violated the concept of an “interfaith chapel.” But I contend that an “interfaith chapel” is an abomination and a disrespect to every faith. Islam and Christianity are not allies. We have no business worshipping in the same space, and in fact, cannot. The Muslims there knew it. I knew it. Airport planners don’t care or perhaps they know it too.
I lasted an hour. I didn’t leave until it was clear no one else was coming. I know it was only symbolic. Obviously, people come in and out all day. But I just had to stay. I couldn’t make myself leave.
I did not feel like going to the third chapel.
What is happening is wrong. We cannot co-exist peacefully with Islam, and Muslims know it. They are spreading out, and we are smiling and opening our faith spaces to them while they do it.
An airport chapel should be for Christians. If other faiths need a space, they should request their own. America is not an Islamic nation, nor do we recognize Islam as a cultural touchstone.
Jews don’t bother with this stuff at all. I’ve never encountered a Jewish person in a chapel, and if I did, I don’t suspect he or she would be surprised or offended to see me there … in a chapel.
I know what I saw and what I felt.
Go find your airport chapel and claim it. Pray there. Leave a cross and a Bible and a note. Do not cede this ground. Do not cede any ground.
The enemies are at the gate… B25.
