St. Eugenia's is the oldest Catholic church in Stockholm, but you'd never guess that.

Compared to some of the towering spires of the Lutheran landmarks in this, Sweden's capital city — like Riddersholms Kyrkan(which is no longer used as a church), Tyska Kyrkan or even the nearby Baroque Jakobskyrkan— St. Eugenia's is almost invisible.

The church is set in a line of buildings next to a Catholic bookstore that it operates. Walking down fashionable Kungsträdgårdsgatan , you might not even notice the church at No. 12 — unless you looked up and saw the gold cross suspended over the sidewalk. Hopefully, the cross draws you in.

St. Eugenia's is a church of paradoxes. Stockholm's mother church is in an ordinary building. So much of St. Eugenia's design is contemporary, but it consciously preserves so much of its past. Without thrusting itself into your face, St. Eugenia's hopes to invite by its witness of lived faith. The latter is especially important because so many of Stockholm's ecclesiastical and architectural gems are little more than organ concert halls in this highly secularized country of 9 million people.

The roots of this peripatetic parish go back to 1783, when foreign-born Catholics were once again allowed to practice their faith in Sweden. A small chapel was established in what is today the Stockholm City Museum (then it was the city hall). In 1837, the parish acquired a church of its own in what today has become the Gallerian Shopping Center. Like Christ, his Church sometimes has nowhere to lay its head.

Downtown Doxology

Stockholm's city center underwent a controversial “urban renewal” project in the 1960s, one that still draws criticism. Like some American urban “planning” of that period, residents of city center were displaced to create office, commercial and entertainment space — through which people pass but in which nobody actually lives. St. Eugenia's lost its original venue and was given its current location in exchange in 1962. Building, however, was delayed until 1979. Bishop Hubertus Brandenburg consecrated the church in 1982.

The church's current location puts St. Eugenia's right smack in the middle of some key parts of Stockholm's life. The National Opera is nearby. Just across the bridge is the Royal Palace and Gamla Stan,Stockholm's quaint Old Town. The Central Rail Station is one subway stop or a short “health walk” away. St. Eugenia's is in the center of Stockholm's life and that is where it sees its mission.

Architect Jörgen Kjaergaard admits he had no agenda in mind when designing the church. He was, however, constrained by the fact that the new St. Eugenia's lay between two landmarked buildings, limiting his options. He preserved the old building given to the church while constructing a new one in its courtyard, leaving its neighbors intact.

The new St. Eugenia's stylistically is a contemporary church, but one that has preserved many elements of its roots. Like the Scripture scholar in Christ's parable — the one who “has been instructed in the Kingdom of heaven” — this parish “is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old” (Matthew 13:52).

The Catholic bookstore and lending library face the street. One enters a large hall with space both upstairs and downstairs for parish activities. The plan is deliberate: Many Swedes’ first contact with the Catholic Church is in a social context; St. Eugenia's invites them to come and see (and learn). In 1996, 97, 350 people took part in Catholic orientation programs. Catholics are a tiny minority in the “land of the midnight sun.”

Archduke's Tabernacle

St. Eugenia's has 8,200 parishioners, although the parish boundaries encompass half a million inhabitants. (Stockholm has three parishes). Many of St. Eugenia's parishioners are foreigners, but the church also reaches out to Swedes searching for meaning in their lives. The parish is active in outreach to Sweden's numerous tourists.

The mix of people who make up St. Eugenia's is reflected in the church itself. In addition to the 12 candles indicating the church is consecrated, St. Eugenia's has also set up 12 stones donated by various churches.

Some — like those from Cologne Cathedral in Germany, Lourdes in France or Bolton Priory in Yorkshire, England — symbolize those countries that historically played a role in shaping the Church in Sweden. Some — like those from Poland, the Philippines and Peru — symbolize some of the countries from whence parish immigrants have come. And some — like those from Loyola Castle in Spain or St. Paul's Mission in Zimbabwe (where seven religious were killed in 1977) — symbolize the Jesuit roots of the parish. The foundation stone, from Rome, was a gift from Pope Paul VI.

The tabernacle comes from old St. Eugenia's, the gift of an Austrian archduke. The cross in the sanctuary is hewn from roof-beams of the old church. The corpus on that cross seems tiny compared with the cross itself: The proportions are deliberate, symbolizing the magnitude of sin that can so destroy man and yet itself is vanquished in him who suffered on that cross.

The movable grill separating the main church from the adjacent Chapel of Our Lady (open for prayer during the day) includes metal from the old church's Communion rail. Our Lady's statue, the “Mother of Divine Hope,” dates from the 15th-century Roslagen, part of Sweden's Uppland province.

A place of quiet and retreat yet one engaging its society — that's Stockholm's St. Eugenia's, a faithful steward tending both the old and new of Catholic life in Sweden.

John M. Grondelski lives in Warsaw.