Father Chris Looby

  One of my favorite television shows is Chopped on the Food Network. If you've never seen it, here's how it works. Four talented chefs are each given a basket of mystery ingredients. They don't get to choose what's in the basket. Sometimes the ingredients seem to go together beautifully. Other times they're completely random. For example, you might see a basket containing gummy bears, canned tuna, hot sauce, and kale. The challenge is to take whatever is in that basket and transform it into a delicious meal. I've often thought that if Jesus were ever a contestant on Chopped , He would win every single time. Because in today's Gospel, someone hands Him a basket containing five loaves and two fish. The disciples look at what's in the basket and immediately begin doing the math. "Five loaves. Two fish. Five thousand people." "This isn't enough." But Jesus never asks them to find more bread. He never tells them to go to the next vil...

  Bishop Mark O’Connell found his bishop’s ring at the bottom of a bag of Utz potato chips. (photo: Courtesy photo / The Evangelist ) A few weeks ago, our neighbor to the south, Bishop Mark O'Connell of Albany, experienced every bishop's nightmare. He lost his episcopal ring. Now, if you've ever misplaced your wedding ring, a family heirloom, or some other treasured possession, you know the feeling. You retrace your steps. You look in every drawer. You check the car, the house, and every pocket. You become convinced that it has vanished forever. That's exactly what happened. They searched the rectory. They searched everywhere. Weeks went by. Eventually Bishop O'Connell even borrowed an old bishop's ring from the diocesan archives because he assumed his was gone for good. Then one day another priest reached into an open bag of Utz potato chips in the rectory pantry—and there it was. The bishop's ring had somehow ended up at the bottom of a bag of chips. It...

Years ago, when I was serving as the associate pastor at St. Peter's Church in Lowville, I lived with the pastor, Fr. Tim Soucy. Fr. Tim was a wonderful priest and pastor, but he was also an excellent gardener. Every summer he kept a large vegetable garden behind the rectory and took great pride in it. Much of what we ate came straight from that garden. One afternoon I decided to make a pot of tomato soup. I went out to the garden and picked what I was absolutely convinced was arugula. I chopped it up and added it to the soup. That evening, Fr. Tim and I sat down together for supper. After a few spoonfuls, he looked into his bowl and asked, "This is really good, but what's this green stuff?" "Arugula," I replied confidently. He looked at me and said, "It can't be arugula. All the arugula is gone." Then he stared into his bowl for a moment and said, "Chris... these are weeds. We're eating weeds." There was an awkward silence. Then ...

A number of years ago, when I was assigned to St. Mary's Church in Evans Mills, there was a stone bed around the parish center. The purpose was simple: less grass meant less mowing. It was supposed to be a place where nothing grew. But every spring, one small patch of daffodils would emerge from the middle of those stones. Everywhere else was rock. Everywhere else looked lifeless. Yet year after year, those flowers pushed their way through. I was so fascinated by it that I took a picture. It seemed impossible. The stones were supposed to prevent growth. Yet somehow life found a way. Every time I look at that picture, I think of today's Gospel. Jesus tells us about a sower scattering seed. Some falls on the path. Some falls on rocky ground. Some falls among thorns. Some falls on rich soil. We usually hear this parable and immediately ask ourselves, "What kind of soil am I?" That's a good question. But this week I found myself thinking about something else. I found ...

  Two hundred and fifty years ago this week, our nation declared its independence. Throughout the weekend there will be parades, picnics, fireworks, and patriotic celebrations. We will remember the courage and sacrifice of those who secured our freedom and those who have defended it ever since. Freedom is one of America's most cherished values. But have you ever noticed that freedom can be difficult to define? Most people think freedom means being able to do whatever you want. Nobody tells you what to do. Nobody sets limits. Nobody gets in your way. Yet if that definition were true, then the happiest people in the world would be those who answer to no one and live entirely for themselves. But that's not what we see. We see people who have every opportunity, every convenience, and every freedom imaginable, yet they are exhausted, anxious, addicted, angry, and unhappy. Apparently there is more to freedom than simply doing whatever we want. That is why Jesus' words in today...

A friend of mine recently celebrated her 34th wedding anniversary. She posted a reflection on social media about everything she and her husband had experienced over the past year. It was quite a list. A retirement. A job change. Two rehearsal dinners. Two weddings. Buying a new house. Preparing to relocate. Watching their oldest son be ordained a transitional deacon. Selling the family home they had lived in for more than thirty years. Spending long stretches of time living apart while trying to make all of those changes happen. She admitted there had been difficult days. There had been tears. There were times when everything felt overwhelming. But then she wrote something that immediately made me think of today's Gospel. She said, "We have always kept God in the center of our marriage." Then she added, "We love each other even more now than we did on our wedding day." When I read those words, I thought of Jesus' startling statement in today's Gospel: ...