“Motives”-Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary-LECTIO DIVINA

1. LECTIO — What the Word Says

Today I listen again to the marvelous paradox at the center of the universe:
a young girl in Nazareth, untouched by sin, startled by an angel, yet saying Yes with a simplicity that subverts empires.

Genesis shows me the primordial No — Adam hiding in the garden, Eve shifting blame, the serpent smirking in the dust.
Luke shows me the primordial Yes — Mary standing in the light, unarmed and unashamed, the serpent’s head already trembling beneath her heel.

It is as if Scripture places before me two humanities:
the one that dodges responsibility and hides behind excuses…
and the one that stands open before God and says, “Here I am.”

And somewhere between those two humanities, I tremble — because I know how often I am Adam, not Mary.

“Each person should ask the Lord for a motherly affection for their neighbor so that we may serve them with all charity, both in soul and body, because we desire, with the grace of God, to serve all the sick with the affection that a loving mother has for her only sick child.”
Dilexi te, §50

MEDITATIO — What the Word Says to Me

If Adam hid behind the leaves, I hide behind my motives.

And today, on this feast of Mary’s perfect freedom,
I must look honestly at the crooked timber of my own intentions —
especially in my long struggle over the grotesque tribute built by John Salazar
for Bishop Matthiesen, who had “no regrets” about giving him
the “second chance” that ended with children being harmed again.

Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images

For years I have questioned their motives:
Matthiesen’s white horse of activism,
Salazar’s self-serving flattery,
Zurek’s acknowledgment of a “serious mistake” without its corresponding action.

A tribute built **by John Salazar for Bishop Matthiesen**—whom Matthiesen kept in ministry **against the counsel of cardinal archbishops**, giving him a “second chance.” That second chance resulted in the sexual assault of youth in our own diocese. And just before he was defrocked and sent to prison, **he raised this monument** in Bishop Matthiesen’s honor. Its presence remains a painful reminder of “serious mistakes” that harmed the very flock Bishop Matthiesen was meant to protect.

But today — under the clean, startling light of the Immaculate Conception —
I must also question my own.
Even when I pursue righteousness, pride creeps in like a serpent.
Even when I speak truth, I sometimes want to win an argument
more than to win a soul.

Mary’s Yes was for one reason only:
because it was God’s will.
I cannot yet claim such purity — but I can lean toward it.

“If Boston is the fault line of the child sexual-abuse scandal that has convulsed the Roman Catholic Church, then few places have felt the aftershocks more deeply than the Diocese of Amarillo.”
New York Times
August 24, 2002

CONTEMPLATIO — Resting in What God Reveals

Memorial in the Grotto of St. Mary’s Cathedral. The inscription says:
“**In memory of the death of innocence of the victims of clergy sexual abuse. When innocence dies…a life stops. It is essential that we never forget.**“

As I contemplate Mary, conceived without sin,
I suddenly see my own struggle transformed:

I look at Bishop Matthiesen on his white steed,
Salazar raising a building in perverse gratitude,
and Bishop Zurek acknowledging the scandal but refusing to remove its monument.

And now I see myself: not immaculate, not unfallen,
but a man whose very motives twist and loop like the double helix of original sin.
Even when I do the right thing, I often do it for the wrong reason —
and yet grace still works.

Mary’s whole being cries out:
“God chooses the small, the overlooked, the flawed — so long as they give Him one honest Yes.”

So I sit quietly in that light.
And for a moment my pride falls silent,
and my heart becomes just a little more childlike.

ORATIO — What I Say to God

Lord Jesus,
through Your Mother’s immaculate Yes,
soften my tangled motives into something resembling obedience.
Purify my desire for justice
without letting pride poison my mission.
Let truth remain truth —
but let love become its breath.
And if I must speak of past sins in my diocese,
let me speak as Mary speaks:
not to condemn, but to redeem.
Be it done unto me — even in this — according to Your word.

ACTIO — How I Will Live This Today

“We are called to be instruments of God our Father,
so that our planet might be what He desired when He created it.”
(LS 53)

Today I will live this by becoming an instrument, not a weapon:

I will speak truth synodally — with others, not against them.
I will purify one motive: I seek healing, not victory.
I will take one small step toward justice that springs from love, not resentment.
I will ask Mary to teach me her Yes,
so that even my flawed efforts may help cleanse the Church I love.

Email to Bishop Zurek

Subject: A Request for Vigilance and Hope on This Last Day of the Liturgical Year

Your Excellency,

It was good to see you home at the Cathedral for Thanksgiving Mass. As we reach the end of the liturgical year and prepare for the Centennial, I write with a simple concern that continues to weigh heavily on my conscience.

In prayer, especially through the Gospel’s call to stay vigilant and strengthen what remains, I keep returning to the tribute erected by John Salazar in honor of Bishop Matthiesen. Because it was built by a priest who used his “second chance” to harm children in our diocese, its continued presence risks sending a message that wounds survivors and obscures our call to truth.

As we prepare to celebrate 100 years of the Diocese of Amarillo, I humbly ask that we consider removing this tribute as an act of healing and justice—so that our Centennial begins in truth, not silence.

Thank you for hearing my heart. Be assured of my prayers for you and for our diocese.

In Christ,
Darrell Glenn

My Story

I was one of “the few” Bishop Zurek spoke of in this letter. He first posted it in August of 2019, and in response to my, “calling out all the more“, he kept reposting it atop the diocesan news page until December 11, 2019. There it remains to this day.

Fr. Ed Graff, brought here from Philadelphia by Bishop Matthiesen, was arrested in 2002 for sexually assaulting a minor and died later that year in jail. Despite the harm linked to his ministry, he was buried in an honored section of Llano Cemetery among our pioneering clergy — a decision that continues to wound survivors and raise hard questions for our diocese.

Bishop Matthiesen, who rode the white horse of public activism even as he brought abusive priests into our diocese—wounds that still mark us today. I spoke with him often, pleading with him to reconsider his “no regrets” about bringing those priests here…
Bishop Yanta, who sought to enforce the Dallas Charter even when Bishop Matthiesen resisted him, and who bore the personal and pastoral cost of doing so. I met with Bishop Yanta about Bishop Matthiessen’s “no regrets” stance. He listened. He believed me. He acted where he could. And when he retired, he urged me—quietly but firmly—to keep speaking out.
Bishop Zurek, who told the Diocese of Amarillo he had “no facts” about the Philadelphia report even as Amarillo’s connection to that tragedy was headline news. When I continued to speak out, as Bishop Yanta had once urged me to do, he later wrote that I was not among the faithful and loyal disciples whom the Lord Jesus desires.