Will you be my Valentine?

Press, 14 February 1986, Page 17

Will you be my Valentine?

By

SALLY BLUNDELL

Chocolates anyone? Softcentred, sugar-coated, silverwrapped, sticky-sweet — all in the name of love? St Valentine’s Day, February 14, could well be accused of being yet another vehicle for crass American commercialism — flowers at exorbitant prices, cards with particularly gooey messages, ribbons, lace and all that is spurned by lean anticapitalists. But while cynicism is easy to wear on St Valentine's Day there are still enough takers to make special cards and bouquets a viable business. Half way through January shiny hearts appeared in book and stationery shops as blushing romantics forsook their reputations and sent cards to their loved ones. And all in the name of an elusive saint — yes? No. Those who commemorate St Valentine’s Day pay tribute not only to a mysterious priest or even the mighty dollar. Behind it all is a female wolf and the mating habits of birds. On February 15 a special festival was held in ancient Rome. A ritual took place on the hill of Palatine, in a cave known as the Lupercal. It was at this site that Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were said to have been suckled by the female wolf, Lupa. The festival was called Lupercalia in honour of the divine protector of the all-im-portant flocks of sheep. . Two noblemen would be smeared with the blood of a sacrifice during the ritual and infertile women, when touched by these noblemen, (called Luperci), were believed to become fertile. Part of the Lupercalia celebration was the exchange of presents — a custom which has , lasted up to the modem commemoration of Saint Valentine and which also typified another nature ritual associated with this date. Many early writings associate February with the mating season of birds, and the names of Lupercalia and Valentine are combined in this traditional observance. In his “Assembly of Fowls” Chaucer wrote: “For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, When ev’ry fowl cometh to choose his mate.” Shakespeare also made allusions to this tradition in his play “Midsummer Night’s Dream” - “Good morrow, friends! St Valentine is past; Begin these woodbirds but to couple now?’’ Christian observances bora out of polytheism (the belief in more than one god) or pantheism (the belief that god exists everywhere in nature) are not uncommon. Both Easter and Christmas celebrations share certain symbols and traditions with pre-Christian rituals. But wolves suckling children? Mating birds? The burgeoning breed of Christians showed an intolerance towards such amorality, and what better

way to reform this atheism than to bring in a saint.

The Reverend Alban Butler condemned such pagan practices in his book “The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and other Principal Saints,” printed in 1842. He wrote: “To abolish the heathen’s lewd superstitious custom of boys drawing the names of girls in honour of their goddess Februata Juno, on the 15th of this month, several zealous pastors substituted the names of saints in billets given on this day.”

Juno was the Roman name for Hera, the wife of the father of the gods, Zeus, and the goddess of women, wives and child-bear-ing. The custom may have been •part of either the bird-mating or Lupercalia celebration but, while it was obviously deplored by certain members of the Christian church, it still shows similarities to modern games of romance. Remember peeling an orange and seeing what initial letter the skin formed? Such games exist throughout Europe, and many are part and parcel of Saint Valentine’s Day customs. But the testimony of Reverend Butler not only shows a parallel between ancient traditions and new. It also casts a new light on the original role of saints — not only to act as models of Christian allegiance, but to replace existing celebrations of a more earthy nature with lofty symbols of purity.

Chaste love staged a coup over nature, with the shadowy figure of Saint Valentine at the helm.

Who was Valentine? According to Reverend Butler he was a Roman priest who lived — and died — ■ during the reign of Claudis II in the third century, AD. He was beheaded on February 14 for two so-called crimes — assisting Christian martyrs during this period of persecution, and refusing to renounce his faith.

By dying for his faith Valentine, like so many saints, earned a direct ascent to heaven.

As the saying goes — “the blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians” — and Valentine’s martyrdom was the key to sainthood. Recalling once again the pantheistic cults, with their death-rebirth cycle, martyrdom was regarded as a kind of second baptism, a cleansing from evil which negated any amount of villainy.

So, even after the age of persecution when miracle workers and founders of religious orders became more likely candidates for sainthood, martyrs claimed a special rank in the calendar of saints. Some martyrs, that is. Despite being a priest and a martyr, and despite being a figure commemorated by Christians, and non-Christians at this time of year, Saint Valentine has lost much of his status within the Christian church.

In fact, in 1928 when the Anglican church revised its

calendar of saints, Valentine was one of the 200 saints who were completely dropped.

When the Catholic church revised its calendar in 1970, an apostolic letter from the Pope said that the new version would list “remarkable people who, each in his own way, offer the entire people of God outstanding examples of holiness which can greatly help Christians of every I walk of life.” This modem role of saints was also expressed by Father Miles O’Malley, administrator of Christ- ; church’s Catherdral of the Blessed Sacrament.

“We don’t remember people just who lived years ago,” he said. “There must be some comment for the critical eye of history to use, like charity in Saint Nicholas’ case. Saints are remembered for some particular aspect. They all have a lesson to teach us, to keep us on the straight and narrow.” But, unfortunately, that is where St Valentine falls down. Apart from being a priest, a martyr, and a harbourer of persecuted Christians, Valentine has no particular "comment” to warrant his place in the Christian church calendar.

When it comes down to it, noone really knows for sure exactly who Valentine was — and without an historical basis there is little hope for remembrance. While Reverend Butler may have had a precise view of who St Valentine really was, historians are not so willing to lay down the law.

Butler’s Roman priest, who is said to have restored the sight of his gaoler’s blind daughter, shares February 14 with another St Valentine — the Bishop of Terai who died, as a martyr, a few years earlier. Some hagiographers, those vigilant biographers of the saints, claim there are three, maybe more; claimants to the name Saint Valentine — just too many for the revisers of Christian calendars who had to retain room for the liturgical season.

So now St Valentine has been thrown to the profane — the mercenary, the capitalists, the make-a-fast-buck manufacturers.

But, thank God, Juno or Hera, it is not just the money-makers who now acknowledge February 14. Shoppers still order their anonymous bouquets, homemade chocolates reach their surreptitious addresses, posties find more people than usual tackling a weed right next to the letter box.

“Oh, ’tis love, ’tis love, that makes the world go round!” wrote Lewis Carroll in "Through the Looking Glass” and no matter if the mating season of birds changed to June, if Rome was founded by Captain Cook, or if the real Saint Valentine was a maligned misanthrope — somehow those sticky chocolates and shiny hearts will still find their way to someone rather special.