Did you ever meet Father Noah Casey? It’s a silly question. Everyone knew Father Noah. If you met him once in passing, he was your lifelong friend. 

Noah and I were roommates in graduate school. The first day we moved into Eigemann Hall, a high rise graduate dorm at Indiana University in Bloomington, IN, Noah introduced himself to everyone in the building. Everyone knew him—and loved him—from the first. (I was an introvert and therefore more of an acquired taste.)

I had a similar experience years before during our first year at Saint Meinrad College. It seemed like we no sooner said hello and I was immediately part of his very large extended family. (He was Joe in those days—before taking the name Noah when he entered the Benedictine community at Saint Meinrad.) His Mother, Marie Casey, died when he was very young leaving young Joe in the care of his father (Joe, Sr.), his grandparents and scores of aunts, uncles and cousins. The more family, the better, Noah believed his whole life.

Father Noah was an Irish storyteller and an Irish tenor. I used to laugh until my sides ached when he would tell his funny stories. And I cried like a baby when he sang those heartbreaking Irish songs.

“Earthy” is a good word for Noah. He loved to eat, to celebrate, to be with ordinary folks. But “spiritual” is an even better word. Noah had a rich, full spiritual life centered in prayer and in his personal relationship to Jesus, His mother, Mary, and of course St. Joseph, Joe Casey’s patron saint.

The combination of earthiness and spirituality made him a good confessor and a wise counselor. I didn’t always follow his advice, but I sure appreciated it!

His homilies were inspired by the same down-to-earth yet otherworldly quality. Sometimes he would burst into song—in the middle of the homily! What better way to get our attention! What better way to lift our spirits and to raise our minds and hearts to God!

Noah’s mother and her sister both succumbed to cancer. Noah never got over their loss. That’s why it was something of a blessing (in one of God’s mysterious ways) when Noah joined them as a cancer victim. He was not as young as they were, but he was still too young (in his mid 60s).

He left behind a very large family—folks related to by blood, by friendship and by faith.

May the road rise to meet him. And may all the angels and saints welcome Father Noah to their humble but heavenly home.