Today the Scriptures sway like a well-set scale.
Hannah gives away the very child she longed for.
Mary sings of thrones overturned and the lowly lifted.
God balances the world not by force, but by fidelity.
A Child is given.
A Virgin conceives.
God-with-us arrives not because we asked well,
but because we refused to ask at all.
The strong are steadied.
The weak are raised.
Nothing is accidental; nothing is rushed.
And hovering over it all is the quiet truth of Advent:
God is arranging the world so that it does not collapse under its own pride.
“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
“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.”
“In the poor, he saw brothers and sisters, living images of the Lord. His mission was to be with them, and he did so through a solidarity that overcame distances and a compassionate love.”
Dilexi te, §64
During this Centennial, can I stand with the victims of clergy abuse caused by Bishop Matthiesen’s so-called “serious mistake,” through a solidarity that transcends distance and is rooted in compassionate love?
Meditatio (Meditation)
On Sunday morning I watched my grandson standing at the stove, balancing a slice of French toast on a spatula far too large for his hands. He leaned in with absolute seriousness, tongue half out, trusting that balance would come not from force but patience.
It struck me that this is exactly how God governs history.
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
Hannah does not seize Samuel back once she has given him.
Mary does not interfere with the overturning of the mighty.
They trust the unseen hand that keeps heaven and earth aligned.
And I confess: I am tempted to grab the spatula.
But Advent teaches me otherwise.
Balance is not indifference.
Balance is restraint born of trust.
I am learning that Synodality is not forcing the scale to tip—it is standing still long enough to see what God is already adjusting.
Even the fallen Centennial banner seems part of this strange equilibrium:
a visible imbalance pointing quietly toward a deeper one that still waits to be named.
Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)
The modern world believes balance means neutrality, as though truth were a hammock one lounges in to avoid conflict.
But Christian balance is a tightrope.
It requires courage not to interfere, humility not to flee, and faith to believe that God can steady what we are afraid to touch.
The Incarnation itself is the ultimate act of balance:
God becoming small without ceasing to be infinite.
Heaven entering earth without shattering it.
And so I wait—not passively, but prayerfully—
trusting that the Cornerstone holds even the walls I cannot yet reconcile.
Oratio (Day 13 Prayer for Synodality)
O God,
who, seeing the human race fallen into death,
willed to redeem it by the coming of your Only Begotten Son,
grant, we pray,
that we who confess his Incarnation with humble fervor
may learn to trust the balance of your providence.
Where we are tempted to grasp, teach us patience.
Where we fear disorder, teach us faith.
Where silence weighs heavy, teach us to listen together.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Actio (Action — Laudato si’ & Synodality)
Today I will practice holy restraint.
I will not abandon the question,
but neither will I force the answer.
In the spirit of Laudato si’, I will trust that true ecological—and ecclesial—balance is restored not by domination, but by attentive care, shared discernment, and walking together.
Synodality begins when I stop grabbing the spatula
and let God finish the turning.
“A delicate balance has to be maintained when speaking about these places, for we cannot overlook the huge global economic interests which, under the guise of protecting them, can undermine the sovereignty of individual nations.”
Laudato si’ §38
🎵 “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”
🎬Movie: The Shop Around the Corner (1940)
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.