St. Valentine was no lover or patron of love

Valentine’s Day, in fact, originated as a liturgical feast to celebrate the decapitation of a third-century Christian martyr, or perhaps two. Just like most stories they get twisted and turned and before you know it people feel obligated to buy flowers, cards, and candies.

The love connection probably appeared more than a thousand years after the martyrs’ death, when Geoffrey Chaucer, author of “The Canterbury Tales” decreed the February feast of St. Valentinus to the mating of birds. He wrote in his “Parlement of Foules”:

“For this was on seynt Volantynys day. Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.”

Today, shops everywhere in England and the U.S. decorate their windows with hearts and banners proclaiming the annual Day of Love. Merchants stock their shelves with candy, jewelry, and Cupid-related trinkets begging “Be My Valentine.”  I have nothing against celebrating love. In fact, it is still the one thing that keeps us going. 

And much like love itself, St. Valentine and his reputation as the patron saint of love are not matters of verifiable history, but of faith.

Want to celebrate Valentine's Day with us? Come and stop by the Basement Club for an evening of oldies but goodies that talk about love and heartaches. 

Tonight 6-8 PM SLT

Basement Club 

‘Doubt that the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move his aides,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love’