Wolfbuschkirche

Ever wondered how a church could bear witness to both destruction and rebirth? The Wolfbuschkirche in Stuttgart, nestled within the Wolfbuschsiedlung, whispers such a tale. This unassuming church, designed by Hans Seytter, stands as a testament to the resilience of a community. The Wolfbuschsiedlung sprung to life in the early 1930s. These new residents, predominantly Lutheran, yearned for a spiritual home. Thus, near the Solitudestraße, at the entrance to their settlement, the Wolfbuschkirche was conceived. The cornerstone was laid on June 11, 1937. The church was inaugurated on March 20, 1938, by Bishop Wurm. Even a kindergarten found its home within the church’s embrace, opening on July 1, 1938. The Wolfbuschkirche, with its warm, wood-rich interior, isn’t grand, but intimate. About 200 people find solace in its nave, with another 40 in the gallery. Its slender tower housed two bells – one for prayer, one for baptism. These original bells, installed despite financial hardship, met a tragic fate. They were melted down for the war effort in March 1942. Yet, from the ashes, new voices arose. In 1949, a 460 kg bell, tuned to A, joined the tower, christened the “Gefallenenglocke,” inscribed with “Your dead shall live.” Another followed in 1954, a 280 kg C-tuned bell, proclaiming “I am the resurrection and the life.” The Wolfbuschkirche, like its bells, faced its own trials. The war’s bombs rained destruction in 1944 and 1945, heavily damaging the church. But the community didn’t falter. They rebuilt their sanctuary, rededicating it on October 26, 1947. Even the church’s organ, ravaged by the bombing, bore the scars of war. Lacking resources, it limped along, kept alive by constant repairs until 1972. A small organ served as a temporary substitute until 1976. Then, a new 16-register, 960-pipe organ, built by Weigle of Echterdingen, filled the church with renewed music. The original stained-glass window, depicting Christ’s Passion, was another casualty of the 1944 bombing. A simple glazing filled the void until 1953, when a new window, crafted by Wolf-Dieter Kohler, brought color back to the sanctuary. The Wolfbuschkirche, though touched by darkness, stands as a symbol of light and resilience. It reminds us that even in the face of destruction, faith and community can rebuild and flourish.