Valentine’s Day fell right after the beginning of
Lent this year. Lent is a season of fasting and reflection and has its own connotations.
Despite the closeness of the two holidays/seasons, Valentine’s Day seems to
have degenerated into a day of flowers and candy.
It’s been a long time since I’ve liked
Valentine’s Day. That phase lasted for as long as it was fun to draw and make
valentines for my siblings (probably through my school-age years), but I
haven’t enjoyed it as much as an adult. For me, the holiday feels frivolous.
Especially nowadays, it seems like it’s
all about flowers and candy — kind of like kissing someone under the mistletoe
at Christmastime. There’s not really anything substantial about it.
Or is there?
Actually, we have Valentine’s Day in
memory of St. Valentine, who was martyred for his faith. Some histories or
legends suggest he was arrested and martyred partially because he was secretly marrying Christian couples and helping
them escape the Roman emperor Claudius.
So maybe that’s
where the romantic “date day” comes from, but it’s still kind of heavy stuff
for what has become a frilly day.
In contrast, I
think that Lent and Holy Week (the week leading up to Easter) may be my
favorite part of the year. Some of my favorite music includes Lenten hymns and
some of Bach’s music, such as “Tilge, Hochster, meine Sunden” or “Chaconne in D
minor” for violin.
To me, this
season, as deep and as simple as it is, has come to mean love. Not romantic
love — as in chemistry — but a deep, abiding, self-sacrificing love that suffers
all, even death, for the salvation of all.
And better yet?
That Love was so strong that it defeated death and the grave.
I can’t see our
modern Valentine’s Day competing very well with that.
It’s also why one
of my favorite songs is J.S. Bach’s “Chaconne in D minor” for violin. The song
was reportedly written after Bach returned home from a three-month-long trip,
only to find that his beloved wife had died in his absence, leaving him and his
[four] children bereft and grieving.
In that period of
mourning, he wrote one of the most lasting and poignant violin solos of all
time.
Not only does the
Chaconne express Bach’s profound grief and heartache — you can hear him crying
to God for relief and a reason for his unbearable loss — but it transforms about
two-thirds of the way through the 15-minute piece. In the middle of the
grief-filled melody, the music suddenly transforms to major chords.
And it soars.
You can hear the
prayer and Bach’s faith that his prayers have been answered and that he is not
alone. Right in the middle of his near-despair, he expresses trust and hope and
faith.
The echoes of the
heavenly golden chords still echo for the rest of the piece, even when it goes
back to a sad melody.
It’s fascinating
because the piece is full of both joy and grief. Not happiness — never mistake
happiness for joy. Happiness is not a truly lasting emotion; in fact, it is
often fleeting. However, joy can exist alongside the deepest and most painful
grief and sadness.
But, contrary to
what you might expect, the 40-day season of Lent, Holy Week and Easter can be
full of more joy than any transient happy holiday like our modern Valentine’s
Day ever could be.
In stark
contradiction to a holiday that now seems expressly designed for happy couples
and leaves out those aching from loss, fear, unhappiness and loneliness, Lent
is for everyone.
Valentine’s Day
appears almost blindingly cheerful but is over very quickly (sometimes leaving
post-holiday doldrums); the season of Lent and Holy Week proclaims the ever-present
hope and certainty that the dawn will come after the night.
