The Real Hunger of Lent

A serious house on serious earth it is,

In whose blent air all our compulsions meet,

Are recognized, and robed as destinies.

And that much never can be obsolete,

Since someone will forever be surprising

A hunger in himself to be more serious,

And gravitating with it to this ground,

Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in,

If only that so many dead lie round.

“Church Going,” last stanza—

Philip Larkin 

 Lent is all about journey—that takes us through the
wilderness sojourn to Jerusalem to outside the city gates and the cross.   

After that, well, you’re on your own!  It is a journey of faith, basic trust in the
God of Jesus Christ who seeks us out.   

Enter Philip Larkin and “Church Going.”  All of the preceding stanzas walk you through
the ruins of a church, or at least one that has aged in disrepair.  There is an inkling 

it is still used and that
he has been there before.  The presence of God moves under the appearance of things, invisible 

to those who visit it as
a museum.  The last stanza touches on the soul’s hunger for which only this place can satisfy—

at least for Larkin, he
realizes the hunger which is somehow satisfied only by the sheer holiness of
the place.  Such is the journey of Lent.  To awaken—wake up to!—the soul’s true hunger and food, 

the life of the resurrection now.