“Day 11: Why I Keep Asking”-Saturday of the Third Week of Advent & Prayer for Synodality Regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s “Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen”

The LORD says to Ahaz: Ask.
Ask for something as deep as death or as high as heaven.

And Ahaz, pious to the point of paralysis, replies:
“I will not ask.”

God is not impressed.

Instead, God answers anyway—
not with thunder, but with a child;
not with force, but with flesh;
not with spectacle, but with Mary asking back,
“How can this be?”

It strikes me that Advent is not a season of answers.
It is a season of holy questions.

The Kingdom does not arrive because no one asks.
It arrives because someone finally dares to.

“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

“…entering a prison is always an important moment, because prison is a place of great humanity… Humanity that is tried, sometimes worn down by difficulties, guilt, judgments, misunderstandings, suffering, but at the same time full of strength, desire for forgiveness, and a desire for redemption.””
Dilexi te, §62

“O key of David and sceptre of Israel, you who open and nobody then can close, who close and nobody then can open: come and lead the captive from prison; free those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.”

Meditatio — Why I keep asking

This morning I watched a lamb nursing, tail wagging with absurd joy.
It asked for nothing complicated—only its mother, and it asked without fear.

I wonder if the Diocese of Amarillo has become like Little Bo-Peep,
content to leave the sheep alone, trusting they will return on their own.

But the rhyme does not end there.

The sheep wander.
Their tails are lost.
And only when the shepherd goes looking
does the healing begin.

“Bishop Matthiesen — a shepherd whose legacy in our diocese still asks hard questions of us today. May truth, healing, and justice be the final word.”
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images

For eleven days now, I have been asking—not demanding, not accusing—
but asking for synodality regarding the tribute to Bishop Matthiesen.

I am not asking for a verdict.
I am asking for a conversation.

Silence is not humility.
Refusing to ask is not faith.

Ahaz would not ask—and God called him weary.
Mary asked—and heaven opened.

Contemplatio — A Chestertonian synthesis

A tribute, built for Bishop Matthiesen, **while John Salazar** —a convicted pedophile priest whom Matthiesen kept in ministry **against the counsel of cardinal archbishops**, giving Salazar 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.

It is a curious thing that men who fear questions
often claim to fear God.

But God is not frightened by inquiry;
He is frightened by polite indifference.

The Church was not born from silence,
but from angels interrupting people who were busy.

Synodality begins not when everyone agrees,
but when someone finally asks aloud
what everyone else whispers in the dark.

Oratio — Prayer (Day 11)

O God of eternal majesty,
who invited Ahaz to ask and Mary to wonder,
free us from the false humility
that hides behind silence.

Give us the courage to ask together,
the patience to listen together,
and the grace to discern together
what truth requires of us.

Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Actio — Walking together

“The urgent challenge to protect our common home includes a concern to bring the whole human family together to seek a sustainable and integral development, for we know that things can change.”
Laudato si’ §13

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.**“

Inspired by Laudato si’:
Today I will practice synodality by asking one honest question
in the light of Christ—
not to win, but to walk together.

Care for truth is care for souls.
Care for souls is care for the Church.

🎵 “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”

One cannot get enough of this song during Advent because it is not a declaration—it is a plea. Advent teaches us that salvation begins not with certainty, but with asking God to unlock what we cannot.

🎬Movie: The Santa Clause (1994)

In The Santa Clause, a man becomes Santa not by wanting the role, but by accepting it after trying to avoid it. That’s Advent in miniature. Authority arrives quietly, responsibility is inherited rather than seized, and transformation begins the moment denial ends. This Lectio asks the same question of the Church: when a calling falls into our hands—especially a hard one—will we pretend nothing happened, or will we step into the work of truth, repair, and care for the little ones entrusted to us?

I am excited to share this podcast that features my longtime friend George Kenney. My family was present for his most favorite moment as Santa Clause that he shares in this podcast!

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

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

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 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.