I had no intention of writing about Valentine, neither Saint nor Day. To tell the truth, my intention was to write about how now that January is behind us, the gym has gotten so less crowded. But a few days ago, I was researching material for an upcoming presentation (itself having nothing to do with Valentine (neither Saint nor Day)), when I ran across something I wrote for this blog in 2013, about Valentine, the Saints. Yes, plural. I said to myself, maybe it’s a sign and I should bring that post back. Val hasn’t changed much in the last eleven years. Oh, but I have. I still liked the idea of bringing him back, so with a fair amount of editing to keep those who might have read it back in an earlier decade from getting bored, here is my Valen-tale.
When you sit across the table from your one and only later this week, you will certainly flash to Saint Valentine, considering it may be Valentine’s Day, and you may, just for a moment, ask yourself, who is this Valentine guy who made greeting card companies, florists, jewelers, and restaurants so much money over the years. You may even ask your one and only what he or she or it or they know about him, assuming that Valentine himself is a one and only. Oh, how wrong you are!
The most common story is that of Valentine, a priest and martyr of third century Rome during the reign of Claudius II, also known as Claudius the Cruel. He believed that his army was not giving its all because the men were more attached to their wives and families than to their emperor. (Oh, the horror of it all!) To solve that, he banned marriages. No marriages, no families, strong fighting men. He should have been also known as Claudius the Stupid because as we knew even in the 200s, no marriages and no families eventually leads to no subjects and no empire, and thus no need for an emperor.
Claudius didn’t get a chance to think that far ahead because Valentine continued to perform marriage ceremonies, ban or no ban. Well, old Claude finally caught on to old Val and Valentine was imprisoned and ordered to be executed. While in prison, Valentine became enamored with the daughter of his jailer and legend goes on to say that on his last day in prison, he wrote her a farewell letter and signed it, “With Love, Your Valentine.”
I like that story. It has a love interest, a creepy villain, a secret plot twist (priests aren’t supposed to fall in love with women, even in the late 200’s), and a story that would have made a nifty second bill on a Saturday double feature down at the local movie house. And for a little dark side to it, it is St. Valentine’s day of execution, February 14, that we celebrate.
But there are other stories.
There are other stories because there were other Valentines, other Valentines who were priests, and other Valentines who were martyred and became saints. (There was even a Pope Valentine. He served for only 40 days in 827.) In all, there are twelve St. Valentines, the most recent, St. Valentine Berrio-Ochoa, a Spaniard who served as bishop in Vietnam until his beheading in 1861, was elevated to sainthood by John Paul II in 1988.
Twelve Valentines, twelve months? Hmm… enough for a Valentine’s Day every month of the year. Hopeless romantic that I am, I am really considering distributing a petition for just so many holidays. But then, that would be twelve times a year instead of just one that rather than celebrating with my one and only, I’d been an one only celebrating alone. [sigh]
I hope you learned something new about love’s favorite holiday. Learning is good. Learning whets your appetite for life! Did you know it also can extend your life? Read how we came to that conclusion in the latest Uplift! Hungry for Learning.
