Look straight ahead for a church of pale, rough stone with an eye-catching, tall square bell tower, arched windows, and red roof tiles-the Steentjeskerk stands out thanks to the unique pattern in its stone façade.
Alright, you’ve found the famous Steentjeskerk-congratulations! Now, while its official name is quite a mouthful-The Church of Saint Anthony of Padua and Our Lady Immaculate Conception-everyone in Eindhoven just calls it the Steentjeskerk, or “Little Stones Church.” Why? Well, take a good look at those walls. They’re built from Kunradersteen, a kind of limestone from the southern province of Limburg. When construction began all the way back in 1917, regular bricks were far too expensive, thanks to the chaos of World War I. So the builders went for this quirky, money-saving alternative. I suppose you could say this church was built on a rock-solid budget!
The story starts just over 100 years ago, when Strijp was overflowing with new families, especially with the rise of Philipsdorp. The huge growth in Eindhoven’s Catholic community led the bishop to search for a “building priest”-and in walked Pastor Pulskens, a determined man with grand ideas. He didn’t want another Gothic church, oh no. He wanted something more Roman, inspired by majestic basilicas in Italy. So, architect Hubert van Groenendael came up with this brilliant design, taking cues from Rome’s own St. Laurentius Basilica. The main altar faces east, stretching 50 meters long, with space for around 800 churchgoers-maybe not quite Vatican-sized, but pretty impressive for Strijp.
Imagine the flurry, the muddy boots, and grumbling builders in 1917, as progress stalled again and again-heavy rains, soaring wartime costs… By the time the first stone was laid, everyone must’ve sighed with relief! Yet they kept costs down; local sculptor Jan Custers made the carvings, stained glass windows were made by Joep Nicolas, and, for better or worse, some decorative plans stayed on the drawing board because money was tight.
The church finally opened in 1919, though the tower and gallery were still works-in-progress. There was no heating, so you can bet the first congregation shivered through those early services. Pulskens was installed as pastor, babies were baptized, couples were married, and in a touching gesture, the Strijp council donated a centuries-old bell-so, for a while, every wedding and service was marked by the ringing of the Mariaklok, which dates all the way back to 1462.
As years rolled by, the church grew busier-seats expanded to nearly 1,000. Special anniversaries brought gifts of marble and copper, and at one point they imported an antique organ from a neighboring church. Yet, as time passed, challenges kept cropping up: wood-boring beetles gnawed the roof, the floor had to be replaced, and the war years brought loss-one of the church bells was confiscated for the German war effort, and several stained glass windows were smashed by bombs.
After World War II, repairs trickled in. Parishioners raised money for new stained glass, and by the 1960s, the church was still evolving-glass was installed on the gallery to trap warmth, a new floor was laid, the altar updated, and eventually, even the heating system was replaced. But as the 1970s crept in, the parish shrank and money ran out. The last wedding in 1971 was a bittersweet farewell.
What happened next? The Steentjeskerk nearly fell to the wrecking ball, but locals rallied and saved it, landing it on the monument list in 1977. By the 1980s, it had a second life as Museum Kempenland-if only those limestone walls could list the oddities and laughter they saw! When the museum closed in 2012, the building slipped into limbo. But after an extensive renovation, a new chapter began. And as of March 2024, an imaginative entrepreneur turned the old church into a café-restaurant. As you stand here, imagine the echoes of sermons, wedding bells, bustling museum-goers, and now the cheerful clink of coffee cups-proof that Steentjeskerk is a survivor, ready for whatever the city dreams up next.
