Although the origins of St Valentine’s Day are somewhat shrouded in mystery, it’s likely that it was intended by the early Christian church to replace the ancient Roman fertility feast and celebration of Lupercalia with a more religious one.

Lupercalia was evidently a licentious, drunken, three-day blowout from February 13-15 where animals were sacrificed and their skins used to beat young women – apparently to ensure their fertility – followed by young men pulling the names of these young women from a jar as part of a mating ritual: the lottery of love!

Sounds brutal. I think I would have been in hiding somewhere outside the Palatine Hill. Yikes.

Ostensibly, into this mix came a couple of early Christian priests named Valentine, both of whom were executed by Emperor Claudius II on February 14 but in different years. They were honoured by the early church with a celebration in their name: St. Valentine’s Day.

About three centuries later, Pope Gelasius tried to get people to wear clothes and to eliminate the pagan aspects of Lupercalia by reframing it as St. Valentine’s Day, which was supposed to be a day of religious reflection and observance.

In the meantime, though, the busy Normans were celebrating something called Galatin’s Day – galatin meant “lover of women.” It seems that the word galatin became confused with Valentine, the Normans conquered England and passed it on, and the rest is history. The pope’s effort to make the original celebration a religious one was in vain.

Throw in some major romanticism from Chaucer and Shakespeare and we now have a “day of love” that’s cast in stone – or maybe that’s rose petals.

Happy Valentine’s, everyone. ❤️