Today is Valentine’s Day, but Valentine is not the saint of the day, according to the Catholic Church, arbiter of all things saintly. Well, at least not according to Catholic Online, though I’m not sure whether to trust the online versions of religions yet, just like I’m not sure whether Wikipedia can be considered an authoritative source, as I frequently remind students who believe they need no other references. (I use it on the sly.)
You can go to Catholic Online to find out which saint has top honors on any given day. The saint(s) for February 14 are Cyril and Methodius, among others, who apparently earned their haloes mucking around political hotbeds in what is now Eastern Europe. Having your own day is a shared perc because upwards of 5,000 souls so far have been awarded the distinction of “saint.”
The downside of sainthood is apparently the workload. According to Catholic Online, Valentine is the Patron Saint of lovers—and of “bee keepers, engaged couples, epilepsy, fainting, greetings, happy marriages, love, plague, travellers, and young people.” I can see some, if not all, of the connections. Certainly orgasm could look like a seizure. And occasionally marriage might seem like a plague. Thus some travel away from it and possibly take up bee-keeping. Or something.
Did you know that patron saints are available for many countries and all states in the U. S.? For instance, the patron saint of Louisiana is Our Lady of Prompt Succor. I guess she was on vacation during Katrina.
Valentine died in 270; Pope Gelasius made February 14 St. Valentine's Day in 498 A.D. (History.com). Or King Henry VIII of England did it in 1537 (Everything Valentines day). Or both. I can see Valentine appealing to Henry, who certainly needed some patronage for engagements and marriages. (I hear he had a great bee-keeper.)
And Henry’s not the only one. Many people are joined on Valentine’s Day, including the rich and famous, for example: Elton John and Renate Blauel, Leeza Gibbons & Stephen Meadows, Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid, Roseanne & Ben Thomas, Pamela Anderson & Tommy Lee, Sharon Stone & Phil Bronstein (The Romantic.com) OK, so those didn’t work out exactly.
But love doesn’t always go as we hope, despite St. Valentine, as Hamlet’s Ophelia might tell you. She had high hopes for Valentine’s Day, greeting the day thus: "Good morrow! 'Tis St. Valentine's Day; All in the morning betime; And I a maid at your window; To be your valentine!" But that, as we know, didn’t end well either.
Valentine is also the patron saint of greetings. There is no patron saint for divorce, by the way. Or for suicide.
As is the case with most saints, Valentine suffered for his faith, was jailed and killed horribly. But not, apparently, before he fell in love with his jailor’s daughter. Hmmm. Priests in love, mucking around with jailors’ daughters. You’d think he’d learn—his romantic streak landed him in the clink in the first place. Valentine presided at secret weddings of soldiers, marriages outlawed by Claudius II, who refused to let young men ripe for the military join that other institution. Thus Valentine’s imprisonment. Trying to convert Claudius to Christianity got him whacked.
One of the most famous whackings on Valentine’s Day was, of course, the St. Valentine’s Day massacre in Chicago. Made men have no patron saint, nor does Chicago. Maybe Chicago falls under the auspices of the patron saint of Illinois—Our Lady of the Universe.
The actual date of Valentine’s Day might, in fact, be close to the date of his death. Ophelia’s wish, “to be your Valentine,” echoes Valentine’s final written words, “from your Valentine,” as he signed his last love letter to the jailer’s daughter. She may have been blind, by the way, and Valentine’s first act as a saint was to restore her sight. Maybe so she could read the letter?
Of course, Valentine ended up dead, and Ophelia ended up dead, and the made guys in Chicago ended up dead. There you have it. Who would want to be anyone’s Valentine? It seems to mean certain death.
So it may be an ironic nod to Valentine’s last hoorah that many of us celebrate his day by sending greeting cards to our respective loved ones, a tradition started by Charles, Duke of Orleans. Chuck sent his Valentine to his wife from a prison cell in the Tower of London, where he stayed for twenty-five years.
Another theory has it that the card-sending harks back to an earlier pagan rite that took place annually on February 15. This celebration of love involved slips of parchment, young women, young men, and goats. Don’t ask.
But probably the pagan we most associate with Valentine’s Day is Cupid, god of erotic love and beauty and son of Roman myth’s famed Venus and Mars. The golden-locked archer and winged trouble-maker fell for Psyche and together they brought forth Voluptas, goddess of pleasure. (Wikipedia) Let’s see—two people who don’t speak the same emotional language, a mama’s boy and absentee husband, a woman tortured by her mother-in-law, and a daughter looking for a good time. (goddess gift.com) Yeah, Cupid seems like the right messenger.
So, what have we got here? Saints, sinners, and suicides; love and death; imprisonments; iambic pentameter; bee-keepers; goats; cards, letters, myths, legends—and the mob. In honor of the total soup that is Valentine’s Day, I’ve made my own guy. I offer you Cupid “Chuck” Valentino.
