The shrine of Saint Valentine in the Carmelite Church in Whitefriar Street, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Today is Saint Valentine’s Day [14 February 2015], and the thoughts of many are turned to love. Thousands of locks will be fixed to bridges and fences across Europe, Juliet’s supposed balcony in Verona will be visited by countless tourists and the Carmelite Church in Whitefriar Street, Dublin, will be full with young couples seeking a blessing or hoping for a proposal.
Saint Valentine’s reliquary is part of a shrine in a side chapel in this inner city church, but this morning it being placed before the High Altar.
Saint Valentine is a widely believed to have been a third century Roman martyr. He is commemorated on 14 February and since the High Middle Ages he has been associated with young love.
But how did Saint Valentine ever end up in Dublin?
‘Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?’ ... Juliet’s balcony in Verona (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Despite his popularity, despite all the cards, despite the roses and the chocolates, despite the rings and the proposals, we know little about Saint Valentine apart from his name and the tradition that he died a martyr’s death on 14 February on the Via Flaminia, north of Rome.
We do not know even whether there was one Saint Valentine or two – or perhaps even three – saints with the same name, and many of the stories that have grown up around his life are mythical and unreliable.
Because of these myths and legends, Saint Valentine was dropped from the Roman Catholic Calendar of Saints in the post-Vatican II revision in 1969. Nevertheless, the “Martyr Valentinus who died on 14 February on the Via Flaminia close to the Milvian Bridge in Rome” is still on the list of officially recognised saints. He may not feature in the calendar of the Church of Ireland. But this day is celebrated as Saint Valentine’s Day with a commemoration in Common Worship in the Church of England in other churches in the Anglican Communion.
In the Eastern Orthodox Church, Saint Valentine the Priest is celebrated on 6 July and the martyr Saint Valentine, Bishop of Interamna (present-day Terni) in Italy, is celebrated on 30 July.
Italian romance ... locks secured to fencing along the Via d’Amore in the Cinque Terre in Italy (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The name of Valentinus is not found in the earliest list of Roman martyrs in the year 354, but he is named in later lists in the second half of the fifth century and the first half of the sixth century.
The feast of Saint Valentine on 14 February was first named in 496 by Pope Gelasius I, who included Saint Valentine among all those “whose names are justly reverenced among men, but whose acts are known only to God.” Perhaps this wording implies that even Pope Gelasius knew nothing about the life of this saint and martyr.
Some sources speak of three saints named Valentines who are associated with today – a Roman priest and a Bishop of Interamna, who are both buried along the Via Flaminia outside Rome, at different distances from the city, and a third saint who was martyred on the same day with a number of companions in the Roman province of Africa.
According to tradition in the Diocese of Terni, Bishop Valentine was born and lived in Interamna and was jailed and tortured in Rome on 14 February. However, different dates are given for the year of his martyrdom, including 269, 270 and 273. He was buried hastily in nearby cemetery and a few nights later his disciples came and brought him home.
The Roman Martyrology lists only one Saint Valentine; who died a martyr’s death on the Via Flaminia.
Popular legend says Valentine was a Roman priest who was martyred during the reign of Claudius II, “Claudius Gothicus.” He was arrested and imprisoned when he was caught marrying Christian couples and helping persecuted Christians.
It is said Claudius took a liking to this prisoner. But when Valentinus tried to convert the Emperor, he was condemned him to death. He was beaten with clubs and stones; when that failed to kill him, he was beheaded outside the Flaminian Gate.
Another legend says Saint Valentine was the Bishop of Terni in southern Umbria in central Italy. While Valentinus he was under house arrest, he was discussing his faith with Judge Asterius.
The judge tested Valentinus by bringing his adopted blind daughter to him. If Valentinus succeeded in restoring the girl’s sight, Asterius would do anything he asked. Valentinus laid his hands on her eyes and the child’s vision was restored. Immediately humbled, the judge asked Valentinus what he should do. Valentinus replied that all the idols in the judge’s house should be broken, that the judge should fast for three days, and that he should then be baptised.
Asterius obeyed, freed all his Christian prisoners and was baptised with all his family and 40 other people.
However, Valentinus was soon arrested again nd was sent to the Prefect of Rome and then to the Emperor Claudius. Claudius too took a liking to Valentinus until he tried to convert the emperor. Claudius sternly refused to be converted and ordered that Valentinus should either renounce his faith or be beaten with clubs and beheaded. Valentinus refused and he was executed outside the Flaminian Gate on 14 February 269.
Many churches throughout Europe are dedicated to Saint Valentine, but it seems none was dedicated to him in either England or Ireland.
Until the 13th century, it was said the martyr’s relics were kept in Saint Valentine’s Basilica on the Via Flaminia, and they were then moved from there to Santa Prassede.
The 18th century English antiquarian, Alban Butler author of Butler’s Lives of the Saints, suggested Saint Valentine’s Day was created as an attempt to supersede the pagan mid-February holiday of Lupercalia in Rome, honouring Juno, queen of the Roman gods and goddesses. However, many of the legends about Saint Valentine can be traced only to 14th century England and the writings of Geoffrey Chaucer and his circle, when 14 February was already linked with romantic love.
The reliquary with the remains of Saint Valentine in the Carmelite Church in Whitefriar Street, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The flower-crowned skull of Saint Valentine is kept in the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome. When some relics were exhumed from the catacombs of Saint Hippolytus on the Via Tiburtina near Rome in 1836, they were identified with Saint Valentine; placed in a casket, and brought in a procession to the high altar for a special Mass dedicated to young people and to people in love.
That same year, Father John Spratt, an Irish Carmelite friar and famous preacher, was in Rome where he preached a popular and acclaimed sermon in the famous Jesuit church in the city, the Gesu. Following this sermon, Pope Gregory XVI gave him a gift of the remains of Saint Valentine and “a small vessel tinged with his blood.”
When the Reliquary with Saint Valentine’s remains arrived in Dublin on 10 November 1836, they were brought in a solemn procession to the Carmelite Church in Whitefriar Street where they were met by Archbishop Murray.
But other churches also claim to hold the relics of Saint Valentine, including a church in Roquemaure, in France, the Stephansdom or Saint Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, a church in Balzan, Malta, the Blessed John Duns Scotus Church in the Gorbals, Glasgow, and the Birmingham Oratory.
After Father Spratt died, interest in the relics in Dublin faded and they were placed in storage. But during a major renovation of the church in the 1950s and the 1960s, they were given a new place in the church, and a special altar and shrine were built for them. A statue carved by Irene Broe shows Saint Valentine in the red vestments of a martyr and holding a crocus in his hand.
The shrine is visited by thousands of couples throughout the year, especially on 14 February, when the reliquary is taken out from under the side-altar and is placed before the high altar in the church. There are special celebrations of the Eucharist at 11 a.m. and 3.15 p.m., with a blessing of rings for couples who are about to be married.
Although the story of Saint Valentine is inextricably linked with romantic young love, it is good to be reminded of love as we prepare to begin Lent next Wednesday [18 February 2015], and that our Lenten pilgrimage is a journey towards fully accepting the love of God offered to us through Christ on Good Friday and Easter Day.
Meanwhile, may all I love and all who love me enjoy Saint Valentine’s Day today.
14 February 2015
‘Fifty shades of Bray’
Late evening lights as darkness falls on Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Patrick Comerford
It has been a busy fortnight. I have been working since Monday of last week, with admittedly with some short breaks – for walks on the beach in Bettystown, Co Meath, and in Skerries, and a family dinner in Corfu, the Greek restaurant in Parliament Street, Dublin.
But the past seven days alone have included delivering eleven lectures, leading two Bible studies in tutorial groups, celebrating a teaching Eucharist, taking part in planning an Ash Wednesday retreat, attending the institution of a new rector, and signing off on my monthly column for two diocesan magazines, with 16 accompanying photographs.
I have enjoyed every moment, and every moment of the preparation.
But by this afternoon I needed a walk by the sea.
The rain had arrived by mid-afternoon, but two of us were undeterred and we headed south to Bray, Co Wicklow, for a walk on the beach.
Grey skies, grey clouds, and grey waves breaking against the grey pebbles on the shoreline in Bray this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Long before the sunset was predicted, darkness was closing in. The sky was grey, the clouds were grey, the pebbled beach was grey, the sea was grey, the promenade was grey, the paved area around the bandstand was grey. It was dusk, and it was like “Fifty Shades of Bray.”
The sound of the sea beating against the pebbles on the shoreline was so inviting that I continued walking in the rain, listening to the soothing sound of the rolling, breaking waves.
An inviting sign at Carpe Diem on Albert Avenue in Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Eventually, it was too dark to continue walking on the beach, and we crossed Strand Road to Albert Avenue, and found a warm welcome in Carpe Diem, where we had two piadine and two double espressos. A piadina is an Italian thin flatbread, typically prepared in the Romagna region, and our paidine were filled with goat’s cheese, spinach, peppers and tomatoes.
Later, as we walked back the South Esplanade, the reflections of the lights in puddle-dotted concrete and tar were cheering, and I was heartened again by the sounds of the sea beating against the pebbles and echoing all along the shoreline.
Reflections in the dark at the bandstand on the South Esplanade in Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
.
Patrick Comerford
It has been a busy fortnight. I have been working since Monday of last week, with admittedly with some short breaks – for walks on the beach in Bettystown, Co Meath, and in Skerries, and a family dinner in Corfu, the Greek restaurant in Parliament Street, Dublin.
But the past seven days alone have included delivering eleven lectures, leading two Bible studies in tutorial groups, celebrating a teaching Eucharist, taking part in planning an Ash Wednesday retreat, attending the institution of a new rector, and signing off on my monthly column for two diocesan magazines, with 16 accompanying photographs.
I have enjoyed every moment, and every moment of the preparation.
But by this afternoon I needed a walk by the sea.
The rain had arrived by mid-afternoon, but two of us were undeterred and we headed south to Bray, Co Wicklow, for a walk on the beach.
Grey skies, grey clouds, and grey waves breaking against the grey pebbles on the shoreline in Bray this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Long before the sunset was predicted, darkness was closing in. The sky was grey, the clouds were grey, the pebbled beach was grey, the sea was grey, the promenade was grey, the paved area around the bandstand was grey. It was dusk, and it was like “Fifty Shades of Bray.”
The sound of the sea beating against the pebbles on the shoreline was so inviting that I continued walking in the rain, listening to the soothing sound of the rolling, breaking waves.
An inviting sign at Carpe Diem on Albert Avenue in Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Eventually, it was too dark to continue walking on the beach, and we crossed Strand Road to Albert Avenue, and found a warm welcome in Carpe Diem, where we had two piadine and two double espressos. A piadina is an Italian thin flatbread, typically prepared in the Romagna region, and our paidine were filled with goat’s cheese, spinach, peppers and tomatoes.
Later, as we walked back the South Esplanade, the reflections of the lights in puddle-dotted concrete and tar were cheering, and I was heartened again by the sounds of the sea beating against the pebbles and echoing all along the shoreline.
Reflections in the dark at the bandstand on the South Esplanade in Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
.
Talking about history, memories, war and vision
in the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield
Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, with the Master’s House and the chapel on the left … the location for five films made by Dave Moore (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Patrick Comerford
I spent a day working in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, last month [16 January 2015] being interviewed for a series of films by the historian, photographer and filmmaker David Moore.
Dave studied public history at Ruskin College, Oxford, and we first met when I was leading a guided walking tour of the Cathedral Close, Lichfield, and lecturing on the history of the close at the invitation of the local history group, Lichfield Discovered.
He is passionate about public history, and the need to hear the voice of local people and their memories of history in their area. One definition says: “Public History is history that is seen, heard, read, and interpreted by a popular audience. Public historians expand on the methods of academic history by emphasising non-traditional evidence and presentation formats, reframing questions, and in the process creating a distinctive historical practice … Public history is also history that belongs to the public. By emphasising the public context of scholarship, public history trains historians to transform their research to reach audiences outside the academy.”
The Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital has played a crucial role in the development of my faith and in the beginning of my sense of a call to ordination to the priesthood.
Over the course of many hours in the chapel, Dave asked me about my values and beliefs and how they were first shaped in Lichfield, my memories of Lichfield, my family connections with the cathedral city, my life story from a defining moment in the chapel of Saint John’s, through a career in journalism that took me from the Lichfield Mercury to the Wexford People and The Irish Times, my call to ordination and the priesthood, and my views about war, peace and nationalism.
These five films were made in association with the local history and environment groups, Lichfield Discovered and the Friends of Sandfields Pumping Station, and with the hospitality of Canon Andrew Gorham, Master of Saint John’s Hospital, and the staff and residents of Saint John’s.
A Self Defining Moment
The first in this series of films is A Self Defining Moment, was published on 21 January 2015. In this film, I talk to David Moore talk about my own self-defining moment, and the scenic route I took to ordination and priesthood.
I first arrived in Lichfield in my teens, and began his career in journalism as a freelance contributor to the local newspaper, the Lichfield Mercury. I continue to be grateful for the encouragement and opportunities provided by the Lichfield Mercury and its then editor, Neil Beddows, in the early 1970s.
Lichfield and the Comerfords
The second film, Lichfield and the Comerfords, was published on 21 January 2015. In this film, I talk to Dave Moore about my connection with Lichfield and my links with the Comberford family.
I originally came to Lichfield following in the footsteps of my great-grandfather, James Comerford, about 70 years earlier. Like him, I was seeking the story of the origins of the Comberford family, which was intimately linked with Lichfield for many generations, spanning centuries of the history of the family.
The Vision
The Vision is the third in this series of films. It was published on 26 January 2015, and has been described by Dave Moore as a “very powerful and moving film.”
In this film, I talk about my grandfather, Stephen Comerford, and the impact that World War I had on him.
The Causes of War
The fourth in this series of films, The Causes of War, was published on 12 February 2015. In this episode, I talk about the causes of war, and the impact of nationalism.
Here Dave gives me an opportunity to develop some of the ideas I had spoken about in a short film made for Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, last year [2014] as part of the commemorations there marking the centenary of World War I.
Humanity
Humanity is the fifth and final film in the series. In this last episode, I talk to David about those personal feelings that define my views of humanity, and how I answered the call to ordained ministry in the Anglican tradition.
Dave and I worked for most of that day in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital before heading off to a late lunch in the centre of Lichfield. I am looking forward to returning to Lichfield and to Saint John’s later this year to preach at the Patronal Festival Eucharist on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist [24 June 2015].
Updated: 14 March 2015 following the production of the fifth film in this series.
Patrick Comerford
I spent a day working in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, last month [16 January 2015] being interviewed for a series of films by the historian, photographer and filmmaker David Moore.
Dave studied public history at Ruskin College, Oxford, and we first met when I was leading a guided walking tour of the Cathedral Close, Lichfield, and lecturing on the history of the close at the invitation of the local history group, Lichfield Discovered.
He is passionate about public history, and the need to hear the voice of local people and their memories of history in their area. One definition says: “Public History is history that is seen, heard, read, and interpreted by a popular audience. Public historians expand on the methods of academic history by emphasising non-traditional evidence and presentation formats, reframing questions, and in the process creating a distinctive historical practice … Public history is also history that belongs to the public. By emphasising the public context of scholarship, public history trains historians to transform their research to reach audiences outside the academy.”
The Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital has played a crucial role in the development of my faith and in the beginning of my sense of a call to ordination to the priesthood.
Over the course of many hours in the chapel, Dave asked me about my values and beliefs and how they were first shaped in Lichfield, my memories of Lichfield, my family connections with the cathedral city, my life story from a defining moment in the chapel of Saint John’s, through a career in journalism that took me from the Lichfield Mercury to the Wexford People and The Irish Times, my call to ordination and the priesthood, and my views about war, peace and nationalism.
These five films were made in association with the local history and environment groups, Lichfield Discovered and the Friends of Sandfields Pumping Station, and with the hospitality of Canon Andrew Gorham, Master of Saint John’s Hospital, and the staff and residents of Saint John’s.
A Self Defining Moment
The first in this series of films is A Self Defining Moment, was published on 21 January 2015. In this film, I talk to David Moore talk about my own self-defining moment, and the scenic route I took to ordination and priesthood.
I first arrived in Lichfield in my teens, and began his career in journalism as a freelance contributor to the local newspaper, the Lichfield Mercury. I continue to be grateful for the encouragement and opportunities provided by the Lichfield Mercury and its then editor, Neil Beddows, in the early 1970s.
Lichfield and the Comerfords
The second film, Lichfield and the Comerfords, was published on 21 January 2015. In this film, I talk to Dave Moore about my connection with Lichfield and my links with the Comberford family.
I originally came to Lichfield following in the footsteps of my great-grandfather, James Comerford, about 70 years earlier. Like him, I was seeking the story of the origins of the Comberford family, which was intimately linked with Lichfield for many generations, spanning centuries of the history of the family.
The Vision
The Vision is the third in this series of films. It was published on 26 January 2015, and has been described by Dave Moore as a “very powerful and moving film.”
In this film, I talk about my grandfather, Stephen Comerford, and the impact that World War I had on him.
The Causes of War
The fourth in this series of films, The Causes of War, was published on 12 February 2015. In this episode, I talk about the causes of war, and the impact of nationalism.
Here Dave gives me an opportunity to develop some of the ideas I had spoken about in a short film made for Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, last year [2014] as part of the commemorations there marking the centenary of World War I.
Humanity
Humanity is the fifth and final film in the series. In this last episode, I talk to David about those personal feelings that define my views of humanity, and how I answered the call to ordained ministry in the Anglican tradition.
Dave and I worked for most of that day in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital before heading off to a late lunch in the centre of Lichfield. I am looking forward to returning to Lichfield and to Saint John’s later this year to preach at the Patronal Festival Eucharist on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist [24 June 2015].
Updated: 14 March 2015 following the production of the fifth film in this series.
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