Regular readers know that silly calendar coincidences trigger compulsive versification in me the way
a strobe light sets off an epileptic’s seizure. It ain’t
pretty to look at and witnesses
are embarrassed for the victim but can not tear their eyes from the spectacle.
This
time it is the quite contradictory urges
of Valentine’s Day, fixed on February
14 way back in 496 when Pope Gelasius I
was regularizing the calendar of
Saint feast days he assigned the date
to a legendary early Christian Saint
of whom literally nothing was known, and
Ash Wednesday, the floating observance of the first day of Lent and the second most solemn day of the year
after Good Friday. One observation celebrates romantic love with all of the urges and excess that implies while the other calls for penance, fasting, and a solemn
rejection of the temptations of
the flesh that might detract attention from the coming sacrifice of Christ.
A
guy could get whiplash trying to cover both bases in 24 short hours.
It
isn’t the first time calendar serendipity
involving one of the observations triggered
a spasm of poetry. Back in 2012 Ash
Wednesday fell on George Washington’s
Birthday.
Despite
the popular image of Washington in reverent prayer the so-called Vision of Valley Forge was invented out of thin air by his early
hack biographer Parson Weems. Elevated
to the status of a virtual saint
by American Evangelicals, Washington’s
religious views were much more nuanced and complex. He dutifully
fulfilled the roles appointed him as a
leading gentleman of his Anglican
parish. He attended services as rarely
as possible and always left before
communion. He was influenced the Deists, but his true
religion may have been his cherished
Free Masonry.
So
back then I was moved to scribble this conjecture.
The Vestryman
Ash Wednesday/Washington’s
Birthday 2012
The Vestryman performing
the duty expected of the local Squire
attended chapel when absolutely necessary
and when no good excuse like fighting an Empire
or Fathering a Country was handy.
He sat bolt upright on a
rigid pew
contemplated
the charms of Lady Fairfax
or later dental misery.
When came the Altar Call, he would
stand up,
turn on his heel, and
march straight out
as if a legion was at
his back.
No filthy priestly thumb ever grimed
that noble brow.
—Patrick Murfin
An icon of the almost surely mythical St. Valentine. |
Today’s convergence conjures
different musings. The early Saint for whom some wild tales were invented long after the fact has been officially scrubbed from
by the Catholic
Church from the General Roman
Calendar in 1969 because so little was known about him that his very
existence might be called into question. He was not, however, completely erased from the roster
of Saints like other popular but
probably apocryphal figures like St. Christopher and St. George the Dragon Slayer. Local Bishops have the option of keeping his
Feast Day on February 14, but it is safe to say that virtually no religious content
remains in the celebration which is no
longer called St. Valentine’s Day by most folks.
Cupid, the Roman God of erotic love, son of Venus and Mars, lover of Psyche. |
Valentine certainly does not show up
on the Valentine cards exchanged today. The Roman god of erotic love Cupid—Eros to the Greeks—is the most ubiquitous symbol of the occasion.
He is usually depicted as a plump Victorian cherub, not the vigorous and amorous winged youth of classic
mythology. Paganism meets sentimentality.
For some reason the inner voice called for arcane language and verbal lace and ribbons.
Cupid as a Cherub by |
Valentine’s Day/Ash Wednesday
February 14, 2018
Doth the thumb
smear on Cupid’s brow,
dour penance and
virtuous sacrifice
subdue ardor or blunt the arrows
from his quiver?
Or doth affection
triumph after all,
lust work its wanton magic, pagan
heart
smother sanctimony?
—Patrick Murfin
No comments:
Post a Comment