People look at wooden Kiruna Church at its final location after a two-day move from the old town to the new city center, in Kiruna, northern Sweden, on August 20. Jonathan Nackstrand/AFP via Getty Images hide caption
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Jonathan Nackstrand/AFP via Getty Images
A 113-year-old church in Sweden arrived at its new home Wednesday after a two-day, three mile journey across the city of Kiruna.
“I think it’s the largest wood building in Sweden,” said Vicar Lena Tjärnberg of the Kiruna Church. “It’s like you’re going into a boat. That’s the same feeling. But it’s a very big boat.”
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The huge, red timber church, with its sharp peaks and triangular forms, is the latest building to trundle its way from the old town center to prevent the local iron ore mine from swallowing it up.
“The mine is very important for us here in Kiruna. We are a mine town. If you don’t have a mine, you don’t have the city,” Tjärnberg said. “And the mine is coming closer and the ground is getting cracks.”
On Tuesday, the 600-ton church was gently lifted onto two trucks and slowly rolled away.
“They have like two trucks with a lot of wheels.” Tjärnberg said. “I think it’s like 130 wheels.”
She said two engineers sat inside the church as it moved, listening for potential cracks.
Kiruna is Sweden’s northernmost city. Relocating many of Kiruna’s buildings is expected to take another 10 years. Tjärnberg said tearing down the church to build a new one just wasn’t an option because of its significance to the community.
“They have grown up in the church, they have played out in the park around the church. They have been like a home for people, and I think that’s Kiruna’s soul in some way,” Tjärnberg said.
For Tjärnberg, the move is bittersweet.
“I’m a little worried about the church too. It’s going to feel different when I open the church door and it’s not in the same place because we have loved this place,” she said. “It’s like the skyline of Kiruna. Everywhere you’re in Kiruna, you can see the church. Or you saw the church because it’s on the move now.”
Until now, she could see the church from her kitchen window.
“For nine years I have said good morning and good night to the church,” she said. “And when I came back today to my home and if it looked out, it’s a construction site I look at.”
But she sees more opportunity now.
“Every change, you can do something good with it,” Tjärnberg said. “We are going to do something good.”
The vicar hopes to reopen the church by Christmas next year.
