14/02/2026
Here is a reflection on St. Valentine from a minister outside of our tradition, but is loaded with things to ponder on this day, which is good, because it draws us deeper into what we experience in committed love and encourages us to live out our vocation more deeply.
Valentine was an early Christian Saint from the period before the ‘Christianization’ of Rome. He practiced his faith in a time when that could get you killed.
Much is unknown about St. Valentine, but legend has it that he came to the attention of Rome’s Emperor, Claudius II, because he was performing unsanctioned and unapproved marriages. In some accounts, those marriages were unsanctioned because they were between Christian and Non-Christians.
Note this restriction is not peculiar to Roman days. When I was ordained in the 1980s the Church’s requirement for weddings was that both parties had to be baptized. Most clergy I knew, in a Valentinian spirit, just somehow forgot to ask the question.
The history of marriage though shows that the Church and political authorities have long tried to control who marries whom, particularly the marriages of those who have money or power. The lower classes and peasantry could just go and jump over a broom.
Not only is marriage potentially political, so is love. The commitment of love can threaten regimes who want your first allegiance to be to them, or to their ‘allowed’ categories for love. The lovers, for example, in the biblical book Song of Songs were from different classes or races, and they therefore tried to hide their love. The inclusion of this book in the Bible gives a form of precedence or legitimacy to love beyond the accepted boundaries.
To return to Valentine. In some accounts, the unsanctioned marriages he performed (that then got him in trouble) were disproved because allegedly marriage exempted men from being required to serve in the Roman Legions. And similarly, in other accounts, those marriages were unsanctioned because the Emperor believed that married men were less inclined to join his wars of conquest. All of which may or may not have been true. But regardless, the thread of these stories is that St Valentine broke the rules about who could marry whom.
Which, nowadays, could perhaps be the equivalent of Christian ministers agreeing officiate at weddings of same-sex couples etc. Not that you’d lose your head, like Valentine, if you got caught. Just your job. Valentine’s saint’s day, the day of his ex*****on, was February 14th, 269 CE.
Of course, somewhat like St Nicholas, St Valentine has (without his consent) supported a vast industry selling cards, roses, gifts, and dinners out. The mythology, as mythologies do, has evolved, so that today February 14th is seen as a celebration of romantic love, rather than a remembrance of the risk-taking love of a minster that put the will and needs of couples above the will and needs of the authorities.
I think it’s wonderful that we celebrate the great joy and delight of romantic love. Though we need to remember, from time to time, the costs of love. For love encompasses the wonder of deep contentment and wellbeing, but it also encompasses the grittiness and the perseverance of commitment.
Yes, love is about the fulfilment of the self (offering nurture, encouragement, and comfort), but it is also about the giving or losing of the self, where the other, or children, are prioritized. Which sometimes comes easily, and sometimes not.
Love frequently grows, blooms, and perfumes our lives with joy. But love is also about change, seemingly constant change, through all the seasons of existence and what those seasons demand of us and offer to us.
So love is a journey. A journey of joy and of commitment.
I’m glad the patron saint of love is a man who risked his life to make others happy, rather the Renaissance depiction of a chubby, winged baby who fires arrows of uncontrollable desire. Just saying. e
