Tumba Kyrka

Did you ever hear of a church built on a paper fortune? Right here, before Tumba Kyrka, the whispers of that very story linger. Tumba Kyrka stands as a testament to the community’s longing for a spiritual home. This church wasn’t always here. Imagine Tumba in the early 1900s, a growing community with hearts yearning for a place of worship closer than the distant Botkyrka Kyrka. The journey to faith was a long one, prompting discussions of a local chapel as early as the 1920s. The dream was delayed, put on hold by the turmoil of World War II. But the desire persisted, fueled by the dedicated women of the Myran society, later renamed Tumba Kyrkliga Syförening, who actively championed the cause. Finally, in 1972, the dream took shape. Architect Börje Wehlin brought the vision to life, and Tumba Kyrka opened its doors in 1973. Notice the two wings extending westward. They embrace an inner courtyard, creating a space for the church’s daily work and outreach. Look closer at the church’s exterior. A gilded cross adorns the choir wall, beneath which twelve wooden sculptures symbolize Jesus’ apostles. Tumba Kyrka doesn’t have a traditional tower. Instead, a freestanding bell tower houses two bells, cast at the Bergholtz bell foundry, each inscribed with verses of hope and peace. Step inside, and you’ll find the echoes of creation in the stained-glass windows by Ingun Wistedt. The altar wall holds a unique “broken” cross by sculptor Stefan Thorén. Light and shadow dance among the scattered pieces, a powerful symbol of resilience and faith. In the baptismal chapel, a wooden relief by Eva Spångberg depicts Jesus’ words, “Let the children come to me.” The church also houses a 1988 mechanical organ built by A. Magnussons Orgelbyggeri AB, its music filling the sacred space. Tumba Kyrka, born from a community’s desire and shaped by the hands of dedicated individuals, stands as a beacon of faith. It reminds us that even amidst delays and challenges, dreams can come true when faith and perseverance intertwine.