Lectio (Reading — received, not mastered)
Standing in the dark, looking at the lit tree out front, I notice today that God does not shout.
He announces Samson in a whisper to a barren woman.
He promises John in the incense-smoke silence of the Temple to an old priest.
Again and again, God plants His loudest revolutions in the quiet soil of impossibility.
Barrenness becomes birth.
Weakness becomes consecration.
And speechlessness becomes prophecy delayed—but not denied.
Even the kings fall silent before the Root of Jesse.
“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
“When the Church bends down to break the new chains that bind the poor, she becomes a paschal sign.”
Dilexi te, §61
Meditatio (Reflection — wrestling honestly)
The word silence stalks me today like a shadow that knows my name.
Zechariah is struck mute not for wickedness, but for hesitation.
He believes in God—just not enough to believe now.
There are days I envy him.
To be silent by command would be easier than speaking by conscience.
I do not enjoy writing about the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen.
I am not a crusader.
I am an old, overweight grandfather who would prefer compost piles to controversy, goats to grievance, quiet prayers to public posts.
And yet—
God has placed me where silence would be a lie.
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
I have seen innocence shattered.
I have spoken directly with Bishop Matthiesen about his decisions—decisions he said he did not regret.
I have watched the Church I love stagger under truths it feared to name.
Like Zechariah, I have doubted my usefulness.
Like him, I have thought: Surely I have done enough.
But the Spirit stirs again—
and I know: my silence is not yet obedience.
Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)
Silence is a holy thing—
unless it protects what should be confessed.
God is silent in the womb,
but never silent in the conscience.
The Church is strongest when it speaks softly and truthfully,
and weakest when it confuses peace with avoidance.
A Centennial is not a museum—it is a mirror.
And mirrors, thank God, do not flatter.
Oratio (Prayer — revised Collect, Day 10)
O God,
who revealed the radiance of your glory
through the humility of the Incarnation,
free us from every silence
that hides truth rather than serves charity.
During this Centennial year,
grant us the courage of Synodality—
that listening may replace avoidance,
and truth may be spoken without fear.
May your Church in Amarillo
prepare a people fit for the Lord,
not by forgetting the past,
but by redeeming it.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Actio (Laudato si’ + Synodality)
“The external deserts in the world are growing, because the internal deserts have become so vast.”
Laudato si’ §217
“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.“
Break one internal desert today—by listening deeply to a voice the Church has ignored, and by speaking one truth gently but clearly.
🎵 “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”
and trusted that God would still come.
🎬Movie: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (1964)
Email to Bishop Zurek
Subject: Request for Dialogue Regarding the Tribute
Your Excellency,
I am writing to apologize if any of my previous communications about the tribute to Bishop Matthiesen came across as threatening or coercive. That was not my intention, and I regret any words that suggested pressure rather than prayerful discernment.
Silence has been painful, but I remain committed to walking with the Church, not against her. I respectfully ask for conversation, not conflict, so that this matter may be addressed in the light of truth, charity, and healing.
Thank you for your time and pastoral care.
Respectfully in Christ,
Darrell Glenn
Diocese of Amarillo
My Story
“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.“
- Bishop Matthiesen, who rode the white horse of public activism even as he brought abusive priests into our diocese such as John Salazar—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.