The Truest Valentine: Love Written in Blood

Brent Pollard

The Forgotten Man Behind the Holiday

Saturday brings us once more to Valentine’s Day, that peculiar fixture of the modern calendar in which chocolate and sentiment have almost entirely buried the bones of a third-century martyr. The holiday bears the name of a man who bled for Christ, yet we have dressed his memorial in pink and red and made it an occasion for romance. One suspects that if Valentine himself could survey what has become of his feast day, he would be bewildered—and perhaps grieved.

Who was this man? The historical record is thin. Multiple martyrs bore the name Valentine in the second and third centuries. Still, tradition has settled on a Roman priest—sometimes identified as a bishop of Terni—who was executed under Emperor Claudius II around 269 AD. The legends are familiar: that he secretly performed Christian marriages, that he penned a farewell note signed “From your Valentine.” These details are charming, but the earliest sources contain none of them. What we do know is this: Valentine was a minister of the Gospel. He was martyred for his allegiance to Christ. The early church honored him as a witness—a martyr in the original Greek sense of the word—to the lordship of Jesus. Everything else was embroidered into the story during the Middle Ages, much as the legends of Christmas accrued around a manger that, in its original hour, was far more stark and dangerous than any Nativity scene suggests.

In 496 AD, the Catholic Church established the Feast of Saint Valentine on February 14th as a liturgical commemoration—not of romance, but of Christian fidelity under persecution. If love was to be associated with the day at all, it was the love described in John 15:13: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” The connection to romantic love did not emerge until after 1382, when Geoffrey Chaucer wrote in his Parliament of Fowls: “For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird comes there to choose his mate.” From that poetic seed grew a cultural vine that, over the next several centuries, would entirely obscure the root.

By the 1500s, European nobles were exchanging Valentine’s notes. Romantic pairings became the dominant association with February 14th. What was forgotten—quietly, gradually, and almost completely—was that a man had forfeited his life for his faith in Christ. What follows is a pattern we observe repeatedly in history: a religious observance is absorbed by commerce, reshaped by local culture, and re-exported globally in its modified form.

A Holiday Remade by Commerce and Culture

Consider Japan. There, Valentine’s Day has become a Sadie Hawkins affair. Women give honmei-choco (“true feeling chocolate”) to romantic interests and giri-choco (“obligation chocolate”) to coworkers and superiors. Japanese confectioners, not content with a single commercial holiday, invented “White Day” on March 14th, when men reciprocate with gifts worth two to three times what they received. As Japan grows more progressive, a growing pushback among women seeks to eliminate giri-choco, which may eventually nudge Japan toward the Western model of Valentine’s Day as a lover’s holiday.

Korea adds an even more inventive wrinkle. Koreans observe both Valentine’s Day and White Day in the Japanese fashion, but they have appended a third occasion: “Black Day” on April 14th. On Black Day, those who received nothing on either holiday gather to eat jajangmyeon (black bean noodles) and commiserate over their single status. One cannot help but note the irony—that a day once consecrated to the memory of a man who died for the highest love has been culturally refracted until it produces a holiday devoted to lamenting the absence of the lowest.

This trajectory is instructive. It reveals something about the nature of human culture: left to its own devices, the world will always trade the costly for the comfortable, the cruciform for the commercial, the eternal for the ephemeral. It has done so with Valentine’s Day. It has done so with Christmas. It will do so with any truth that demands something of us, unless we are vigilant to remember what the truth actually requires.

Love Detached from Sacrifice

Here we must make a spiritual observation, for our purpose is devotional rather than merely cultural. When love is detached from sacrifice, it becomes fragile. This is not a sentimental claim. It is a theological one, rooted in the very nature of God and the pattern of His self-revelation.

Examine every major New Testament articulation of love, and you will find that love is never defined primarily by emotion. It is demonstrated through surrender, not sentiment. God did not merely feel affection for the world; He gave:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3.16, ESV)

“Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5.25, ESV)

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15.13, ESV)

Do you see the verb that anchors each of these texts? It is not “felt.” It is not “enjoyed.” It is “gave.” Love, as Scripture reveals it, is not the warm feeling that overtakes us when conditions are pleasant; it is the deliberate act of self-expenditure when conditions are agonizing. The cross was not a gesture of sentiment. It was the ultimate act of will, the most purposeful decision in the history of the cosmos—the Son of God choosing, in full possession of His faculties and full awareness of the cost, to absorb the wrath His people deserved.

Strip sacrifice from love, and what remains? Affection. Enjoyment. Personal fulfillment. Preference. These are not worthless; however, they are not durable. A love built on enjoyment will fracture the moment enjoyment fades—and enjoyment always fades. A love sustained by emotion will collapse the moment emotion shifts—and emotion always shifts. Only a love anchored in the deliberate, costly, daily decision to give of oneself can endure the pressures that this fallen world relentlessly applies.

The Architecture of Love

Perhaps an analogy will help. Think of love as a building. Sacrifice is the foundation and the structural steel. Romantic attraction is like paint—it beautifies, but it bears no weight. Shared interests are the furnishings—they make the space enjoyable, but remove them, and the building still stands. Emotional chemistry is like lightning—it illuminates brilliantly for a moment, but you cannot wire a house with it.

Without sacrifice, marriage collapses under duress. Friendships dissolve under inconvenience. Church unity disintegrates under disagreement. Why? Because sacrifice is the only form of love that says, “I will stay when it costs me.” And make no mistake—it will cost you. The question is never whether love will be tested, but whether your love is the kind that can survive the test.

Consider Paul’s inspired description in 1 Corinthians 13. Love is patient. It bears all things. It endures all things. It does not seek its own. It never fails. We must remember the context: Paul was not composing a wedding homily. He was addressing a fractured congregation riven by pride, division, and the competitive misuse of spiritual gifts. When he wrote that love “does not seek its own” (1 Corinthians 13:5, NASB95), he was describing cruciform love—love shaped like the cross. This is not the love of Hallmark cards. This is the love of Gethsemane and Golgotha.

If Love Is What We Feel, It Will Fail

Here is the great dividing line: if love is what we feel, it will fail; if love is what we choose, it will endure.

Paul could describe this perfect love in 1 Corinthians 13 because he had seen it incarnate in Christ. Jesus did not withdraw when obedience brought the hematidrosis of Gethsemane—that dreadful sweating of blood that Luke, the physician, records with clinical precision (Luke 22.44). Jesus did not retreat when loyalty to the Father brought Him the agony of Calvary. He stayed. He chose to stay. And His staying was not passive endurance but active, purposeful self-giving for the glory of the Father and the redemption of His people.

This means that 1 Corinthians 13 is not idealism. It is not the wistful poetry of a romantic who has never suffered. It is the testimony of a man who watched his Lord die and who understood that the pattern of that death was now the pattern for all Christian love. It is imitation, not imagination.

And that is our call. The love Paul describes is not reserved for poets or newlyweds, for the spiritually elite or the naturally affectionate. It is the daily decision of the disciple. It is patience when irritation would be easier. It is kindness when pride demands recognition. It is endurance when quitting would bring immediate relief. It is the quiet, unglamorous, often unnoticed choice to remain faithful when faithfulness is expensive.

The World’s Love and Christ’s Love

The world celebrates love that dazzles. Christ commands love that remains. The world measures love by its intensity of feeling. Christ measures love by its faithfulness under fire. The world asks, “How deeply do you feel?” Christ asks, “How faithfully will you stay?”

We must not be confused about this. The world’s version of love is not entirely wrong—it is merely insufficient. Romantic feeling is a good gift of God. Emotional connection is part of His design. Enjoyment of one another is woven into the fabric of human relationships. But these things are the blossoms, not the root. And when we mistake the blossom for the root, we are devastated when winter comes, and the blossoms fall. The root of love is sacrifice. The root of sacrifice is the will. And the will is strengthened not by feeling, but by faith—faith in the God who first loved us in precisely this way.

John writes: “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3.16–18, ESV). Notice the movement of the text. John does not allow love to remain in the stratosphere of theology. He brings it immediately to earth: Do you see your brother in need? Then act. Love is not what you say. Love is what you do when doing is costly.

A Valentine Written in Blood

As the world exchanges cards and chocolates this Saturday, let us remember what Valentine’s Day was intended to commemorate. Not romance. Not sentiment. Not the fluttering heart of a new attraction. It was meant to honor a man who loved Christ more than he loved his own life—and who proved it by dying.

And behind that man stands the One whose love makes all other loves possible: Jesus Christ, who on a Roman cross authored the truest Valentine ever written—not in ink, but in blood. That is the love we are called to imitate. Not merely to admire, not merely to theologize about, but to embody—in our marriages, our friendships, our congregations, and our daily encounters with a world that desperately needs to see love that does not quit.

The measure of our love is not how deeply we feel, but how faithfully we stay. May God grant us the grace to love as Christ loved—with a love that gives, that stays, that sacrifices, and that endures. For that is the love that never fails.

The True Meaning of the Thanksgiving Holiday 

Friday’s Column: Brent’s Biblical Bytes

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Brent Pollard

Hopefully, those within the United States enjoyed a safe and joyous Thanksgiving holiday yesterday. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that has come under attack by secular humanist forces in recent years. Worse than merely shifting the focus to turkey and American football, some people are trying to attack the holiday based on injustices perpetrated against the American Indian population over a century ago. While true that the “Thanksgiving feast” in seventeenth-century Plymouth serves as a romantic backdrop to our current holiday, we should not forget that days of giving thanks is not limited to one group or one time.  

 

Many countries observe some Thanksgiving holiday today. These observances are typically about the giving of thanks for the bounty of the harvest. They may reflect a pagan rather than Christian influence. However, to single out the United States’ practice as a matter of perpetuating injustice is a move by those seeking to erase American history with its Judeo-Christian values. The removal of said Judeo-Christian values are necessary to create the secular humanistic state esteemed by the disciples of Karl Marx. It is not an exaggeration to say we are in the midst of a great cultural war here within the United States. The winner of this cultural war will determine whether the United States continues to be free or becomes despotic. I realize that may sound like hyperbole on my part. Still, the Founding Fathers were clear in emphasizing that only religious people could maintain the liberties enshrined within the Constitution.  

Thus, we find the American Thanksgiving holiday’s actual genesis in 1789, the year of the United States Constitution’s ratification. President George Washington wrote that Congress had tasked him to declare a day of Thanksgiving. The purpose of this day was to thank God for blessing the newly-formed United States with peace and prosperity. A cursory examination of all of the Presidential Thanksgiving Proclamations demonstrates the common theme of acknowledging and thanking Providence. Many Presidents likewise include an exhortation to remember the less fortunate and spend the day in service to others. President John Adams approached it differently. He asked people to fast on Thanksgiving and include with their prayers those of penitence, acknowledging national sins. How novel!  

Thomas Jefferson balked at the idea of making Thanksgiving Proclamations. He thought it smacked too much of enjoining the populace to some State religion. I believe Jefferson was mistaken, but it should help you understand that this holiday has been one long conceived as religious in tone. After Jefferson’s successor, Madison, the practice of the President giving a Thanksgiving Proclamation fell by the wayside until the Civil War. At the behest of Secretary Seward and a private citizen, Sara Josepha Hale, Lincoln reinstated the practice of issuing Thanksgiving Proclamations. Essentially, Lincoln helped make Thanksgiving an annual observance. It would not be until 1941, though, that the federal government made Thanksgiving an official holiday. Except for President Garfield, who died from an assassin’s bullet, every President since Lincoln has issued a Thanksgiving Proclamation, regardless of party affiliation.   

The beloved Norman Rockwell contributed to the iconic depiction of Thanksgiving with his painting “The Freedom from Want” in 1943. (It was a part of Rockwell’s “Four Freedoms” series.) A patriarch and matriarch stand at the head of the table around which the family has gathered. The matriarch has prepared a sumptuous turkey feast. Delight fills the faces of all assembled. For me, however, the best Rockwell depiction of Thanksgiving was the last Thanksgiving cover he would paint for The Saturday Evening Post in 1951. He entitled that painting “Saying Grace.” A “grandmother” and a little boy sits in a restaurant. Their heads are bowed in prayer as others look on. The looks given by their tablemates seem to show amusement or curiosity. (Frankly, they seem to be reacting as if it were the first time they have seen this behavior.) Within those brush strokes, Rockwell has, to me, captured the true meaning of Thanksgiving. Amid the rush of a secular world, we pause, giving our thanks to God for even the simple meal. It matters not if others are willing likewise to thank God.  

 

I fully expect that should God allow time to continue that we will see an assault on the Thanksgiving holiday of 2021 since that would mark 400 years after Plymouth. Again, secular humanists want to take God from the picture. They wish to define the holiday as an observance in which we celebrate the rape and plunder of indigenous peoples by calling their seized property our possession. Yet, such critics demonstrate ignorance also of that original Plymouth feast. Thanksgiving is not about what we have. Thanksgiving is about acknowledging our Benefactor. It is a day for our nation to pause and admit that we would not be here without the Providence of God. And, as we count our blessings, we are motivated to show mercy to our neighbor as God has shown mercy to us. 

Works Consulted and Further Reading 

“Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1789.” George Washington’s Mount Vernon, Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association,www.mountvernon.org/education/primary-sources-2/article/thanksgiving-proclamation-of-1789/

 

Maranzani, Barbara. “How the ‘Mother of Thanksgiving’ Lobbied Abraham Lincoln to Proclaim the National Holiday.” History.com, A&E Television Networks, 3 Oct. 2013, www.history.com/news/abraham-lincoln-and-the-mother-of-thanksgiving

 

Miller, Cheryl. What So Proudly We Hail, What So Proudly We Hail, 30 Apr. 2013, www.whatsoproudlywehail.org/curriculum/the-american-calendar/thanksgiving-day-proclamations-1789-present

 

“‘Freedom from Want,” 1943 – Norman Rockwell Museum – The Home for American Illustration.” Norman Rockwell Museum, Norman Rockwell Museum., 1 Mar. 2017, www.nrm.org/2016/11/freedom-want-1943/

 

“Saying Grace (Rockwell).” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 26 Sept. 2020, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saying_Grace_(Rockwell)

 

KING’S CRITERIA WERE RIGHT ON THE MARK

Neal Pollard

Martin Luther King, Jr., gave his “I Have A Dream” speech on a seasonable and rain-free day in August of 1963, but this speech, delivered to at least 250,000 people, is often remembered on the holiday in January named for him. This speech is one of the most important documents of our nation’s history and was a watershed moment in improving race relationships between black and white Americans.  Eloquently and poetically pointing out the injustices his race of people had endured and were enduring at the time, King looked forward to a new and improved day.  He hoped all people, whatever their race, would “not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” He hoped to leave Washington, D.C., and return back to his home with a faith in the powers that ruled nationally and locally which would be translated into hope, brotherhood, and unity. His final call was to “let freedom ring” (via http://www.archives.gov/press/exhibits/dream-speech.pdf).

Many people forget that Mr. King was a religious man, a preacher who often alluded to Bible characters and principles as well as directly quoting from it.  Inasmuch as he accurately referenced it, Mr. King was calling all people to God for guidance regarding right and wrong.  He said that character took priority over color.  He saw unity as right and division as wrong. He called for freedom rather than slavery, real or virtual.  While he was rightly championing these characteristics in the realm of racial equality, those principles doggedly stand regarding other matters.  Character, unity, and freedom matter in religious matters.

When we stand before Christ in the judgment, there is no indication that He will even take note of our race, ethnicity, or nationality.  He will look to see if His blood covers us.  Peter rightly says, “I most certainly understand that God is not one to show partiality, but in every nation the man who fears Him and does what is right is welcome to Him” (Acts 10:34b-35). Corrupt behavior or disobedience will not be acceptable, no matter who we are.

Furthermore, anyone who fosters division is rejected by God. He hates “one who spreads strife among brothers” (Prov. 6:19). He condemns it through Paul in 1 Corinthians 1:10-13.  In social or spiritual matters, I don’t want to be responsible for inhibiting a brotherhood God desires.  If I refuse to stand where He stands or if I stand where He doesn’t want me to stand, He will not accept it.

Finally, there is a freedom even more important than the noble cause King and his followers pursued. They wanted loosed from the manacles of a bondage imposed by others.  All of us, outside of Christ, are subject to a bondage we cause for ourselves.  Paul refers to this as being “slaves of sin” and “slaves to impurity and to lawlessness” (Rom. 6:17,19).  But, thank God, we can be “freed from sin” (Rom. 6:18). Then, we become slaves to righteousness.

Christians must care about racial equality, never treating someone different because of the color of their skin.  The way to right content of character, unity, and freedom is found in the book so often quoted by Mr. King.  No matter where or when we live, it will guide us toward an eternal home in heaven.