Father Chris Looby

  Charles speaks with staff at the new distribution center, designed to save and circulate surplus food and to support communities in need.   Justin Tallis/AFP/Getty Image s Last week, King Charles of England celebrated his 76th birthday—not with a lavish party or royal spectacle, but by hosting a surplus food festival.  Instead of focusing on receiving, he used his platform to give back, directing attention to those in need by addressing food waste and hunger.  It was a beautiful example of stewardship, with a king using his influence to serve rather than to be served. Today, as we approach the feast of Christ the King, this story can help us reflect on what true kingship means.  King Charles’s gesture gives us a glimpse, but Christ’s kingship goes even deeper. Christ is a king who didn’t seek His own glory or personal gain.  Instead, He came to serve, ultimately laying down His life for us. Unlike any earthly king, Christ’s kingdom is rooted not in power, but in truth and sacrificial

  This week I’ve been reading this wonderful book titled The Day the World Came to Town. The book tells the story of Gander, a small town in Newfoundland, on one of the darkest days in modern history: September 11, 2001. When the United States closed its airspace, 38 planes were forced to land in Gander. Thousands of stranded and frightened passengers from all over the world, speaking many different languages, confused and fearful were suddenly in this small town of barely 10,000 people. The people of Gander could have responded with panic or turned inward to protect themselves, but they did the opposite. They opened their homes, their churches, their schools, and their hearts. They fed these strangers, clothed them, provided them with shelter, and spent the next few days comforting them, easing their fears, and treating them like family. The people of Gander transformed a moment of chaos and darkness into one of light, compassion, and hope. In doing so, they became a powerful

  Recently, I had dinner with my friend, Richard, who loves backcountry skiing. His favorite spot is a mountain in the Adirondacks, and he was explaining to me that night that he and his skier friends spend long hours in the fall clearing trails there.  As Richard was talking, I could hear the pride and passion in his voice—but also a bit of frustration.  The mountain has become popular with other skiers in the area, and while that’s wonderful, it means these other skiers benefit from the hard work that he and his friends put in each year to make the trails safe and clear.  The trails take hours of dedicated effort to prepare, but most people skiing down those slopes may never realize how much work goes into creating that smooth path for them. Listening to Richard, I thought about how often we, too, benefit from the sacrifices others have made, often without our even noticing.  And then I thought of today’s Gospel, where Jesus sees a widow quietly making her offering in the Temple. Whi

  About ten years ago, I visited Israel for the first time. While there, I noticed that many doorways had a small container fixed to the doorpost.  My guide explained it was called a mezuzah, containing a tiny scroll with the words of the Shema , a prayer from Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone!” Whenever devout Jews would enter or exit that doorway they will touch that box containing that scroll as a daily reminder of God’s presence and a call to love Him with all one’s heart, soul, and strength.  Inspired, I started installing a mezuzah on the doorpost whenever I move into a new rectory.  Now, whenever I see or touch it, I remember this command to love God and love my neighbor—a reminder I need every day. In our readings today, we hear the same Shema prayer that is still central to the Jewish faith. Moses tells the people, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.”   And in the Gospel, wh

  The other night, I was flipping through the channels and came across reruns of that classic sitcom Friends. For those who may not be familiar with it, Friends follows a group of six young adults navigating life, love, and career in New York City.  What made the show so popular is its relatable theme of friendship. These six characters—through all of life’s ups and downs—are there for each other, supporting one another in ways we all can recognize and appreciate. Well, the theme song from "Friends" has a refrain that many of us know by heart: "I'll be there for you, 'cause you're there for me too."  As I watched, I was reminded of today’s feast, All Saints Day, and how, in a way, the saints form the ultimate “circle of friends” in our lives.  They’re there for us, not only as role models who lived the Gospel in remarkable ways but as companions and intercessors, supporting us in our journey toward God. As we reflect on the lives of the saints today, thi