Father Chris Looby

  I’ve been reading The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton lately, and there’s a scene that really stayed with me. Merton is walking with his friend Robert Lax, talking about what he wants to do with his life. He says something like, “I guess I just want to be a good Catholic.” Lax looks at him and says quietly, “What you should say is that you want to be a saint.” Merton laughs, “How do you expect me to be a saint?” And Lax replies, “By wanting to. All that’s necessary to be a saint is to want to be one.” That line stopped me in my tracks. All that’s necessary to be a saint is to want to be one. Merton said that conversation changed him. He realized that holiness wasn’t just for mystics or monks or people with halos in stained-glass windows. It was for ordinary people who desired God deeply, who let that desire shape who they were and how they loved. Today, as we celebrate the Feast of All Saints, the Church invites us to rediscover that same desire. We remember the great sa...

  Fr. James Martin, SJ, speaking at the  2025 Immigrant Integration Convening at Fordham University Lincoln Center (Photo by Fr. Chris Looby). Several years ago, I read a wonderful book by Jesuit priest Father James Martin called Between Heaven and Mirth: Why Joy, Humor, and Laughter Are at the Heart of the Spiritual Life.   I loved that book. It reminded me that joy isn’t a distraction from faith — it’s a sign of it. God delights in His people, and holiness and humor can live side by side. I was so moved by it that I decided to write Father Martin a short note, just to say thank you.  Nothing fancy — just a few lines of appreciation.  A couple of weeks later, I went to the mailbox and found a letter from him — a thank-you note for my thank-you note!  I laughed and thought, “Now wait a second — I’m not sure who’s thanking who anymore!” That simple exchange of gratitude stuck with me. Because that’s what gratitude does — it connects us.  It doesn’t end ...

  When I was in middle school and high school, my parents did something I didn’t really appreciate at the time — something that, looking back now, I see as one of the clearest examples of living the Gospel I’ve ever witnessed. They took in my mother’s parents — my grandparents — to live with us.  My grandmother had Alzheimer’s and could be very difficult to care for.  My grandfather had only one leg and later was diagnosed with colon cancer.  And all of this was happening while my parents were raising seven children on my father’s teacher’s salary.  Seven kids, two elderly parents in need of constant care, and not a whole lot of money to go around. And here’s what I remember: there were no awards, no public recognition, no one stopping by to say, “Wow, what saints you are.”  There were no “thank you” speeches. It was just what they did. Day after day, year after year.  Because it was the right thing to do. Because that’s what love does. At the time, I ...