Father Chris Looby

  A few times each year, we hear a Gospel passage that makes us stop and say, "Wait a minute. Did Jesus really just say that?" This is one of those Sundays. Jesus says: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." Those are difficult words. Imagine if anyone else said them. Imagine if I stood up here and said, "You should love me more than your spouse, your children, or your parents." You would have every right to show me the door. So why can Jesus say it? Because Jesus is not just another teacher. He is not merely a prophet or a wise man. Jesus is God. Only God has the right to claim first place in our lives. Notice what Jesus is not saying. He is not telling us to love our families less. He is not telling us to neglect our responsibilities. He is not asking us to choose between Him and the people we love. He is asking us to put Him first. And there is a difference. ...

Have you ever walked into a room and suddenly a conversation stopped? Or maybe someone told you, "Do you know what so-and-so said about you?" Most of us know what it feels like to be talked about. We know what it feels like to hear whispers. Sometimes they're harmless. Sometimes they're hurtful. Sometimes they're completely untrue. And even when we don't know exactly what people are saying, we can worry about what they might be saying. That is exactly where we find the prophet Jeremiah in today's first reading. He says, "I hear the whisperings of many." People are talking about him. They are criticizing him. They are waiting for him to fail. They are hoping he stumbles so they can say, "See? We told you so." Jeremiah is suffering because he has been faithful to God. Now, most of us will probably never face the kind of persecution Jeremiah faced. But we do know what it's like to feel pressure because of our faith. We live in a world ...

If you go to a Catholic Church this weekend you're going to see something different. For the first time in quite a while, everything is green again. The vestments are green. The altar decorations are green. After weeks of white and red, the Church has returned to Ordinary Time. And at first glance, that sounds a little disappointing. We have just celebrated Easter. We celebrated the Ascension. We celebrated Pentecost. Last week we celebrated the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. We have spent months reflecting on the greatest mysteries of our faith. And now we are back to Ordinary Time. But Ordinary Time does not mean unimportant time. In fact, Ordinary Time is where most of the Christian life is lived. The great feasts remind us what God has done. Ordinary Time challenges us to do something with it. And fittingly, the first Gospel we hear as we settle back into Ordinary Time is Jesus calling ordinary people and sending them out into the world. At the sight of the crowds, Jesus...

Rush performs "Closer to the Heart" at their concert July 9, 2026 at the Kia Forum in Los Angeles, California As many of you know, I'm a fan of the Canadian rock band Rush. It's okay if you've never heard of them. One of my favorite songs is called Closer to the Heart. There's a verse in that song that has been on my mind as I prepared for today's feast: "And the men who hold high places Must be the ones who start To mold a new reality Closer to the heart." As the song continues, it speaks about blacksmiths and artists, philosophers and ploughmen, captains and navigators. The message seems to be that every person has a role to play. Every person has gifts and talents that can help shape the world around them and bring it "closer to the heart." Whether the members of Rush intended it or not, that's a beautiful way to think about today's feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Today's readings remind us what kind of heart God has....

  When I was preparing for this week, I came across an old quote attributed to comedian George Carlin.  As many know, Carlin was often critical of religion. The quote goes something like this: "Tell people there is an invisible man in the sky who created the universe and they'll believe you. Tell them the paint is wet and they'll have to touch it to be sure." Carlin's point, of course, was that people can be surprisingly willing to believe certain things while being skeptical about others.  He was questioning religion and faith and asking, "How can people believe in something they cannot see?" But whether or not you agree with Carlin, he touches on something interesting about human nature. We do struggle with believing what we cannot see. We want proof. We want something we can touch. Something we can measure. Something we can experience. And maybe the beautiful thing is this: God understands that about us. God knows we are physical creatures. We learn t...

There’s an old song from the band Three Dog that begins with the line: “One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do.” I remember hearing that song years ago and thinking it was a strange idea.  Usually we think of “number one” as something positive. Number one means first place. Number one means victory. Number one means being at the top. But the song makes a different point. There is something difficult about being alone. And if we're honest, most of us know that's true. At one time or another, we've all experienced loneliness. Some people come home to an empty house. Some have lost a spouse. Some have children or grandchildren who live far away. Some are surrounded by people and still feel alone. There is something deep within us that longs for connection, friendship, family, and love. And that brings us to Trinity Sunday. Every year on this Sunday people expect priests to explain one of the greatest mysteries of our faith: one God in three Persons.  Over the cent...