I’m not sure I’ve ever liked Valentine’s Day. When I was a kid I liked the candy, and I sort of remember I liked going shopping with my mom and sister to get my dad new socks. Although that seems like a gift that even as a kid I should have protested about and insisted that my dad’s Valentine’s Day gift be loud and either gas-powered or shiny and mysterious.

I remember at school, making big pink and red construction paper heart mailboxes that we tapped to the edges of our desk to collect all the Smurf and Disney valentines. Going home and having to stuff candy into envelopes for everyone in my class the night before, because if we gave anyone a valentine, we had to give everybody one. I can still remember the strange plasticy sweet smell that wafted up when the candy powder, the envelope glue and the ink from the cards combined in my throat.

One year my friend and I decided to change the big paper mailboxes and make them into chutes that would deposit the loot into our waiting backpacks. We thought it would reduce the amount of work needed to get to the candy. Of course, that was the start of the years where we weren’t required to give out valentines to everybody, and so my friend and I only got to test out our modifications on each other’s valentines.

I wonder what kind of valentines Jesus would get if he had gone to Monte Vista with me. I don’t imagine we’d have really understood who he really was, but I think we’d all know he was a nice guy to hang out with. So we’d write: “don’t change!” or “stay cool Jesus!” or some other Yearbook Lite cliché.

Or maybe since he never did anything wrong, and had an uncanny knowledge of things, we’d shun him; or worse, scorn and bully him for being too good. I’d hate to think I would be among them, but if I think honestly about all the mean and nasty things I did to kids, just because I could get away with it, I’d have to admit I would. We can be so cruel when we’re young.

I really wonder what kind of Valentine’s Day cards Jesus would give. I wonder if he would write encouraging things to the kids who weren’t very good at math, or say just the right thing to the guy whose parents were divorcing. When people read his message to them, would it start to change them or would they treat it with cynicism like a fortune cookie?

As I was preparing to talk to the Jr. Highers tonight about Valentine’s Day a couple verses keep jumping out at me, John 15:12 where Jesus says: “Love one another the way I loved you...Put your life on the line for your friends.”

And 1 Corinthians 6:19, where Paul writes: “Don't you see that you can't live however you please, squandering what God paid such a high price for? The physical part of you is not some piece of property belonging to the spiritual part of you. God owns the whole works. So let people see God in and through your body.”

This time of year I get so caught up in one of two things, invariably thinking either 1) “I have to get a really good gift, so Robyn will think I’m a really great guy, and then I can feel good about myself.” Or 2) “Bah humbug, I hate Valentine’s Day, the whole things a scam!” It’s so selfish, because even the gift giving’s purpose is to make myself look and feel better. I never even consider the idea that I could look outside of my own life and take the spirit of the day to someone who is hurting or lonely. Or even just to friends I haven’t talked to in a while. I don’t think about putting anything on the line for hardly anyone, and I am totally blinded by my own needs to remember to let people see God through me. I can be so unaware when the situation calls for nothing out-of-the ordinary.

We started singing an old hymn in Jr. High group this summer. Robyn and I heard it while on vacation in Santa Cruz and brought it back. It may be the only hymn to have ever made me spontaneously burst into tears.

On this Valentine’s Day, I’m coming to understand that I’m still very weak and wounded and Jesus is still ready to take me in. But more than that, I’m realizing that it isn’t really even about me, that it’s about loving the people around me like God loves me. About getting over my inadequacies and lameness and pride that makes me pretend I’ve got it all together and letting God be seen instead.

I’m realizing that Valentine’s Day can be pretty cool after all.