St. Nicholas of Bari

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

Today is the Feast of St. Nicholas of Bari. He was the Bishop of Myra in the fourth century, died there, and is buried in that Cathedral.

His parents died when he was a young man, leaving him well off, and he was determined to devote his inheritance to works of charity. An opportunity soon arose:

There was a citizen of a place called Patara who had lost all his money and had to support three daughters who could not find husbands because of their poverty. The wretched man was going to give them over to prostitution.

This came to the ears of Nicholas, who took a bag of gold, and under cover of darkness threw it in an open window of the man's house. It was a dowry for the eldest girl, and soon she was married.

At intervals, Nicholas did the same for the second and third daughters. At the last time, the father was on the watch, recognized his benefactor, and overwhelmed him with his gratitude.

St. Nicholas has been associated with generosity, detachment, concern for others, economic responsibility. He reminds us of the phrase of Our Lord in St. Matthew: “Lay up not for yourselves treasures on earth, where rust and moth consume and where thieves break in and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither rust nor moth consume and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart is also” (Matt. 6:19-21).

This feast day in Advent invites us to look at our spirit of generosity, detachment, and economic responsibility in relation to our preparation for the coming of the Christ Child, in relation to a spirit of purification and penance.

Our Lord also said, “If you will be perfect, go sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. And come follow me” (Matt. 19:21).

One of the conditions for us to be able to enter into the stable in Bethlehem is that we be detached from the things we have on this earth, so that we have the mentality of a manager, not of an owner; the mentality of an administrator. God has given me this house, these clothes, this salary, this food, to use while I'm here on earth, and to spread around as much as possible to other people who may be in need.

There are no exemptions from the obligation to lay up for ourselves treasures in heaven, in spite of the heavy burdens of riches on earth.

We may all think that other people are richer and more well-off than we are. In a certain sense, materially, it might be true.

But if you look again, you may find that where God has not endowed with great material riches, often He has endowed with great spiritual riches. He invites us to be generous with those also.

There's a special burden on the materially wealthy, which obliges them, first of all, to find a means of freeing themselves from their absorption in material things.

It would be good to think of a program of detachment for our life. One golden rule could be to live modestly, given our wealth and position. St. Josemaría liked to say, “Have the mentality of the parents of a large and poor family” (cf. Josemaría Escrivá, Conversations, Point 111).

People should be surprised if they were to know our financial position by the fact that we live with such modesty. It would be good to always try and live at a level a step or two down from our peers.

Avoid ostentation. Be the last and not the first on our road or in our area to acquire the latest luxury gadget. Be wary of multiplying our possessions. Downgrade, not upgrade. How many computers or televisions or cars do we really need?

There was a priest in a parish in Manila one time, Don Bosco Parish, who told a story at all the homilies of all the Masses one Sunday, of how he knew a little kid who used to sell cigarettes at a street corner when cars stopped at the traffic light. The kid was eight or nine or ten and didn't know how to manage his money.

He would bring his money to this priest to manage for him. And every day, he would bring the equivalent of, maybe, thirty shillings. Then, he would ask for ten shillings or so to get some rice.

But one day he came along and asked for sixty shillings, and that was about everything that the little kid had saved up. The priest was curious and asked him, “What do you want sixty shillings for?”

The little kid said, “There's a woman who's given birth to a baby under the bridge and she has no milk for the baby. Milk costs sixty shillings a can, so I thought I would buy a can of milk for the baby.”

The priest was so moved. Here was this kid, an orphan, with nothing in this world but a pair of slippers, a pair of shorts, and a T-shirt.

But at the first sight of someone in need, he was willing to go and sell all that he had and give to that person.

He made that story the homily at his Sunday Masses. The following Sunday, there was a rich lady in the congregation and she offered to pay for that child's education. He won a scholarship through primary and secondary school.

How happy God must be when He sees a soul like that shining up at Him.

As we approach Bethlehem, it would be interesting if we could make our heart and soul a bit like that of that little kid.

There was a preacher in a church in Texas who invited people to come up and share their success stories. One man went up and shared his success story.

He said, “I came into this church thirty years ago. I only had a dollar in my pocket. And I heard the preacher say, ‘Give everything to God, give everything to God.’ So I gave everything to God. And today I'm a multimillionaire. I think that's because I gave everything to God.”

Then he went down, and he sat on his pew, and a little old lady beside him bent over and said, “Oh, that was beautiful. I dare you to do that again.”

It's easy to give God one dollar when all we have is one dollar. But when we have a whole pile of dollars, it may not be so easy.

There's the rub, there’s the challenge: to live these virtues with the same intensity as we grow in life, as we did when we had very little.

Mother Teresa liked to say, “Give until it hurts” (Mother Teresa, Address to the National Prayer Breakfast, February 3, 1994). She liked to encourage people to give and to give generously.

Now is the time to give. It's not much point leaving a whole pile of things after our death. That has very little merit before God.

We should give prudently according to our religious and social goals. Don't succumb to the temptation to leave a lot of money to foundations after you die, trusting that other people will follow your goals—unless you have moral certainty that they will do so.

We can ask Our Lord for the grace to think again about this virtue, to see new ways of practicing it.

The more money you make, the higher the percentage you should give away. It's good if we think of a certain economic responsibility in supporting all the charities that God may have placed around us: They are part of our pathway to holiness: to take them squarely on our shoulders.

In the same way as we try to live below our income level, we should try to give above it. People should be surprised to learn that someone who earns only so much is giving so generously to a good cause. This is one of the pathways of our holiness, of our effectiveness, of entering the kingdom of God.

One of our goals in life should not be to leave a lot of money to our children. Don't ruin their lives by tempting them not to work as hard as you have worked.

The evidence in life is very clear. Children who are born into privilege rarely have the opportunity to experience the joy that comes from struggling and winning.

Or to put it negatively, if you're financially set for life when you're 21, there's an awful temptation to laziness and indulgence. Generally, large inherited wealth can create huge divisions in families, with subsequent familial and personal tragedies: divorces, addiction, suicide, etc.

One of our goals in life should be to try and have a large family. You can afford it. Large families assure a certain poverty and detachment, a certain economic responsibility. Just look at those future tuition fees for a start!

And at least communicate this message loud and clear to your children and grandchildren: Happiness does not come from having, from spending, from getting, but from giving, from serving, from sharing.

In the First World today, many of the countries are committing ever more rapid continental suicides through contraception. Nearly all these countries are well below the replacement birth rate.

It's part of God's plan for most people to live in a family and to find their joy there. That's what the stable in Bethlehem has to teach us.

Pope St. John Paul II liked to say, “The future of the Church passes through the family” (John Paul II, Homily, Point 3, November 30, 1986).

Listen to the conversations in your household as we come towards Christmas. Are they about giving, serving, helping? Or are they about getting, having, spending?

Frequent discussion of acquisition reflects a family that lives only for this world, with little thought for the next.

Make sure that no one in your family can honestly wear a T-shirt that I saw one time that said, “He who dies with the most toys, wins.”

Life is service, not acquisition. Look to be, not to have.

As we come towards Christmas, take a good look at everything you have in your house. Throw out or give away what you don't need. Teach children to go through their cabinets or their drawers. Objects that we don't use over time have a funny way of taking possession of us.

Having few possessions is a fine way to live social justice. We can give them away or turn them into money that can be given to the needy. If you haven't used something in the last year, you probably don't need it.

Make things last. Remember that attachments to the material things of this world will eventually have to be burned away in purgatory if we are to enter heaven. Better now rather than later.

If you work in an office where there is going to be an office party, try and ensure that there is some social dimension to that party. If we are going to spend an awful lot having a good time, drinking, or eating, let's think of some families that we can help also to have a good time—families who perhaps don't have such things.

Think for a moment, in your city or town or country, the amount of money that's going to be spent on alcohol this Christmas. A man in Ireland once told me that something like 600 million euros was being spent on beer in a certain year.

When you think of these figures, it makes you think a little bit about the importance of temperance, of being in control of our lives. If we live in order and neatness in the care of our material things, they will last longer.

If we take good care of those things, we'll be able to show to Our Lord that He entrusted those things to us and we looked after them, that we were faithful in little things.

One area of this virtue that we could try to consider a little these days is to avoid impulse buying. Watch out for our whims and caprices. Much of the market economy is based on efforts to entice us to buy superfluous things or too much of truly useful things. “Super-size” it. And the market economy is very good at that.

If we look at your closet, your drawers, your basement, your garage, or also the weight registered on your bathroom scale. Try to consult somebody about your purchases.

Do I really need this thing? Is this a whim or a caprice? Or is it something that's really necessary? Could I do greater good with the money I spent on this thing?

Try to review carefully at the end of the month where your money goes. Examine your bank statements. Think: What good could I do with this amount if it was not spent on myself?

Avoid occasions of sin, remote or proximate.

“If thy right eye scandalizes thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee. For it is expedient for thee that one of thy members should perish, rather than that thy whole body be cast into hell” (Matt. 5:29).

There may be occasions of sin when it comes to buying or shopping, whether in shopping malls or catalogs or on the Internet. For some people, it's computer stores, for others, book shops or golf equipment; ‘the concupiscence of books,’ I heard somebody refer to once.

For other people, it may be just any store, before which they find themselves powerless. Their credit card or debit card may be jumping out of their wallet or purse. Try to stay away from your particular source of conspicuous consumption temptation, because maybe that's what it is.

The Internet for some can be the most insidious form of the concupiscence of the eyes. A few clicks and your shopping basket is filled to overflowing. St. Josemaría says in The Way, “Don't forget it: he has most who needs least. Don't create needs for yourself” (J. Escrivá, The Way, Point 630).

Ask yourself, could I do without it? Teach your children to ask that question also.

One very good way of preparing the family for Bethlehem is to perhaps live a corporate work of mercy each week.

A man told me many years ago how he was in his office and his business was not going very well. He used to transport oil from different countries in little ships. It was a small-time operation, but he had many creditors banging on his door every day.

One day he got a call from the wife of one of his seamen; the seaman was out at sea someplace. But he told the secretary, “Tell her to call back this afternoon. I'm too busy.”

She called back in the afternoon. It was the same story. “Tell her to call tomorrow.”

She called tomorrow. Same story.

When they put the phone down for the third time, he realized, ‘The wife of this man had called three times. She must have a problem.’ He asked the secretary to call her back and find out what the problem was. But then they found she was calling from a public phone. It was the time before mobiles.

He asked the secretary to find out where she lived. They got the address. It was on the other side of town. They spent an hour or two getting there. Eventually, they found the place. They had to walk across some fields. It began to rain.

And he discovered that they were living in a very depressed area; some sort of metal sheets, sort of shacks and that. And when they found the house, they found there was a hole in the roof. The rain was coming in and the three-month-old baby had caught a chill. He was blue in the face. That's why the wife was calling. She needed help.

They took the child to the hospital and got some medicines. Got in some new sheets to fix the roof. He got in a supply of food. spent a few hours there fixing up the family.

He said, “As I went across the fields to that home, I realized these people have problems. As the rain began to come down and the misery of that place, I realized that I, sitting there in my office, did not really have problems. These people had problems.”

He told me, “After a few hours, I went back to my office a happy man, thanking God that He showed me the problems that other people have.”

“Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do unto me” (Matt. 25:40).

When Our Lord looks into our hearts this Christmas, hopefully, He finds the love that He expects to find. The only thing that has any value in God's eyes is love. “We will be judged on love” (Pope Francis, Address, November 26, 2017)—on our love of others, how we put that into practice.

It’s possible for us to live weeks, months, or even years without being really exposed to the real misery of the human condition in various areas of our society.

Sometimes, in places where there is great prosperity, there can also exist great loneliness among the aged, the addicted, the imprisoned, the exploited, the ravaged, the homeless. They're everywhere. And often they don't only need checks or government programs. Often, they need our company and our love.

St. Nicholas of Bari can help us to think out of the box, to think again, to find new ways of practicing these virtues.

If you follow The Way of the Cross and meditate on it often and see Our Lord's passion, death, and resurrection, it's there that we find everything that counts. All the rest is dross. Measure everything by that standard that we see there.

Zacchaeus the rich man had to climb up a tree in order to see Jesus clearly (Luke 19:1-10). The tree we have to climb is the Tree of the Cross. Can we excuse ourselves on the ground because we perhaps don't have time?

We have to make time these days for what's important. Consider making poverty, detachment, economic responsibility, generosity regular topics in your sacramental confession and spiritual direction. Ask your spiritual director to be demanding of you in this regard.

In order to have Christ fill us up through the sacraments, through prayer, through Scripture, we have to continually be emptying ourselves not only internally, but also externally.

We need to be completely stripped of anything that's not Him so that we can receive that reward awaiting us.

Watch out carefully for the Tenth Station of The Way of the Cross: “Christ is stripped of His garments.” The most absolute detachment. He stands exposed to the vulgar gaze of the crowd.

People who are rich, powerful, and influential in society have a special responsibility to try to live these virtues, as they run a greater risk of the loss of their souls, given the gifts that have been bestowed upon them for God's glory and service to others.

Maybe part of our apostolate is to infect people around us who may have a lot. They may be influential, or powerful, or rich.

There's a book called The Rise of Christianity by a man called Rodney Stark and he points out that contrary to conventional wisdom and historical analysis, in the first several centuries of Christianity, the Gospel was most successfully preached, not to the poor and the outcast, but rather to the prosperous middle and educated upper classes of the cities.

As early as the second century there were society matrons and members of the emperor's household, high officers of the Roman army, who had become Christians.

If the vision of St. John Paul II of a new springtime of the Church (John Paul II, Homily, May 31, 2000), which over time can help to create a civilization of love and truth (John Paul II, Letter to Families, February 2, 1994; Apostolic Letter, Salvifici doloris, Point 30, February 11, 1984), is to come to pass in this new century, then the elite must become not only devout and apostolic, but also poor in spirit.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:3).

The Holy Family invites us to enter into the stable of Bethlehem. Every year, the Church brings us back there. See the importance of the crib in your home, to remind us these days of what's important. Perhaps try and pray three Hail Marys in front of the crib with the smallest of children, as we learn the great lessons that are there for us to learn.

“Foxes have dens and the birds of the air have nests. But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Matt. 8:20). Christ lives in ardent poverty.

St. Josemaría says. “When we live the virtue of poverty badly, the whole of our spiritual life goes badly” (cf. Salvador Bernal, Msgr. Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer: A Profile of the Founder of Opus Dei).

It's worth looking again to practice and to learn this virtue better.

One of the greatest lies on the planet is that “when I get what I want, I will be happy.” Very often when we get what we want we hate it.

This virtue is exchanging lower things for higher things; learning how to be detached from what I like, my opinions, my feelings.

How do I know that I'm attached to something? Well, there are certain telltale signs:

If I'm anxious because...

If I'm obsessed with...

If I'm worried about...

If I'm restless due to...

These things can give us the key to see what I'm really attached to.

We can ask Our Lady for the grace to learn how to be detached from all sorts of other things, for us to spend time and effort on what is really important.

When Joseph and Mary were leaving Nazareth, you can't imagine them piling up the donkey with all sorts of excessive paraphernalia. “I have to bring this because it was a wedding present.” “I have to bring this because it belonged to my great aunt.” “I have to bring this and that because...” They would have known how to leave everything behind.

The day will come when we also have to leave everything behind and follow the paths that God is calling us on.

On this feast of St. Nicholas, we could ask Our Lady to help us to have that same generosity of spirit, so that we might be known for that, that we might teach that to our children as a pathway to happiness in this world, and in that way, savor all the rich lessons that Bethlehem has to teach us.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

NJF