Church Going



Of all the poems we have read, Philip Larkin’s “Church Going” is among my favorites. The structure, conversational tone, and imagery all facilitate the questions the speaker poses about religion. 

As we discussed in class, the poem has a formal construction with seven stanzas, nine lines each, all in iambic pentameter. This strict format is interesting because it reflects the traditional, stateliness of churches themselves; just as the stanzas are solemn, so too are churches a place of stiff dignity (at least that is how we feel about them, or are told to respect them as). The contrast of the speaker’s relaxed tone is therefore emphasized and made even more humorous. He kind of knows what objects in the church are significant but does not respect them: he just walks up to the lectern and quotes a Bible verse louder than necessary. This was startling to read—you don’t just walk up there so casually! Even the echos that “snigger briefly” (16) seem to agree that he is not meant up there. However, I think the speaker does this intentionally to get this reaction out of us. I think a lot of debate and argument regarding religion, especially with Christianity and Catholicism, is about the hierarchies within the church. God is for everyone, so why couldn’t someone like the speaker walk in, stand in front of the church, and read from the Bible? Larkin challenges our ideas about religion, and why holy spaces are holy. 

The driving imagery in the poem is churches as ruins. The speaker consistently pictures these grand cathedrals he stops in as dilapidated, crumbling barns in the future that sheep can live in. He views churches as just buildings, a coalescence of “pavement, brambles, buttress” (36). Where does the sacredness come from if churches are no more than a “special shell” (52) and an “accoutered frowsty barn” (53)? How can there even be any meaning in churches if they will eventually decay into this? The speaker observes the almost-new roof and ponders it has just been cleaned or resorted in lines 11-12. At first glance the question might not seem that important, but it reflects the larger struggle he wrestles with in the poem. He is fascinated with religion and belief, how churches symbolize it, and how it can be so significant for other people and not him. Why would someone restore a roof if it will still deteriorate anyway? Why even bother cleaning it any way? The answer: because it does mean something to people right now. Religious or not, devout or superficial, people come to churches because it speaks to something within them. The speaker claims that he doesn’t know why he keeps visiting churches if he never gets answers from it. But, I argue that he too gains insight from them. Visiting this church has prompted the entire poem. His contemplations are important and meaningful because it is an attempt to understand humanity. Of course there are spiritual and logical problems with religion, especially Christianity and Catholicism, and even other belief systems (including superstitions). Maybe humans will abandon all churches in the future and we will be left with only ruins. But, it doesn’t change that, at some point, to someone, they were extremely meaningful. And that in itself if significant and valuable. 

I really like this poem and all the questions it forces me to consider. It will stay with me, at least for a while. 

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