Father Chris Looby

  When I was growing up, one of my favorite movies was Back to the Future. Maybe some of you remember it. A teenager named Marty McFly accidentally travels back in time… and discovers that things people do in the past can affect people far into the future. A conversation… a decision… even one small action can change everything years later. And every time I hear today’s Gospel, I think about that movie. Because in today’s Gospel, Jesus is praying. But He’s not just praying for the apostles standing in front of Him. In a mysterious and beautiful way… He’s praying for us. Think about that for a moment. Before this church existed… before our country existed… before any of us were born… Jesus had us in His heart. And today, especially, He has these children in His heart as they receive their First Holy Communion. That’s really what makes this Gospel so beautiful. We are listening to Jesus speak to His Father just before His Passion and death. And what does He do in those final mo...

  When I was a kid, I’ll admit it—I was a bit of a daydreamer. Especially when I had chores to do.  I’d be staring off into space, lost in my own world, when I was supposed to be raking the yard or cleaning the garage.  And my dad, noticing me not exactly pulling my weight, would say—often with a shake of his head— “Christopher, get your head out of the clouds and get to work!” I think of that line every time I hear today’s reading from Acts. Jesus has just ascended into heaven. And there stand the apostles—mouths open, eyes fixed on the sky, completely transfixed.  And what happens?  Two angels show up and basically say, “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky?”   In other words: “Guys, get your heads out of the clouds and get to work!” The Ascension is not about Jesus leaving us. It’s about Him entrusting us with His mission.  He ascends so that we might rise to the occasion. He entrusts His Gospel to human hands—and now those...

  Happy Mothers Day to all moms especially my mom, Barbara! I came across a story this week written by a mother about her 6-year-old daughter who was being bullied at school. Some other kids told her, “We don’t like you.” And instead of getting upset… or trying to argue back… she responded in a way that honestly caught her mom completely off guard. She said, very calmly, “That’s okay. My family thinks I’m kind and wonderful… and I know who I am.” Six years old… and already that grounded. She didn’t need their approval. She didn’t need to fight back. She didn’t fall apart. Because she already knew something deep down: she was loved… and that love told her who she was. And that’s really at the heart of what Jesus is talking about in the Gospel today. He says to his disciples, “I will not leave you orphans.” In other words: You are not alone. You are not forgotten. You are not without love. And then He promises something extraordinary—He says the Father will send “another Advocate...

  In the almost two years I’ve been here, I’ve learned something about these three parish communities. If there’s ever a need… it doesn’t stay a need for very long. Somebody steps up… and before you know it, something good is happening. And when you stop and think about it, that’s exactly what has happened again and again in our parish communities. In Peru, those two houses across from the church—Rogers House, where furniture, books, and household items are made available to those who need them… and St. Vincent de Paul, providing clothing for individuals and families. The former school building—now a place where a community meal is served every week… and now even a disaster hub. When St. Joseph’s Church in Treadwells Mill closed… it didn’t just disappear. It became St. Joseph’s Outreach Center. And St. James and St. Alexander's have been right there in the middle of it all—supporting, giving, and making this work possible in ways that often go unseen. None of that just happened. A...

  I recently came across this story in the news about a man in Wisconsin.   Not long ago he was walking through a scrapyard—just doing his job—when something caught his eye.  Sticking out of a pile of scrap metal was a golden shepherd’s staff… a bishop’s crosier. And the first thing he said was, “That doesn’t belong here.” And he was right. That crosier didn’t belong in a scrapyard. It belonged in the hands of a shepherd—guiding, protecting, leading. But there’s something even deeper in that moment. When he saw it, he didn’t just realize it was out of place… he knew it belonged to someone. A shepherd. A bishop. Someone entrusted with caring for God’s people. And he didn’t just admire it… he tracked down a bishop and returned it. Because he knew—it had to be back where it belonged. And maybe that’s what makes the story so powerful. Not only was something sacred in the wrong place… there was also a sense that someone was missing. And here’s what makes the story even more...