
Rembrandt (Rembrandt van Rijn) Dutch
1634
Today the Scriptures insist on a holy interruption.
History is marching along—genealogies piling like stones, empires grinding forward, promises stretching across centuries—and suddenly God pauses everything by becoming small.

Isaiah refuses silence until vindication shines like dawn.
The Psalm sings of a covenant that does not rush but endures.
Paul stands in a synagogue and gestures for the crowd to listen.
Matthew recites a genealogy so long it feels like waiting itself—
and then, quietly, the waiting stops.
Joseph plans.
God interrupts.

Joseph pauses.
Not with a speech.
Not with a manifesto.
But with obedience.
Christmas’s great secret is this:
God saves the world not by accelerating it,
but by stopping it long enough
to enter it.
And Emmanuel—God with us—is born
in that pause.
“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.”
“…the Church is a light when she strips herself of everything, and that holiness passes through a humble heart devoted to the least among us.”
Dilexi te, §67
Can I bring light to Bishop Matthiesen’s “serious mistake” by stripping myself of everything unnecessary and allowing holiness to pass through a humble heart devoted to the victims of that mistake?
Meditatio — The Word Considered
I considered pausing today.
It is Christmas.
The world urges ceasefires, decency, mercy—
and is politely ignored.
Power continues as usual.
I wondered whether I should pause my asking for Synodality
regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen—
whether Christmas required silence from me.

Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
But here is the paradox I cannot escape:
Christmas is God’s refusal to pause His regard for human dignity.

If God did not pause His concern for humanity
even when humanity ignored Him,
how could I pause mine?
To pause my concern for those harmed by clergy abuse
in order to celebrate the Incarnation
would be to celebrate God’s mercy
while withholding my own.

So instead, I placed two images side by side:
the Tribute that remains standing,
and the Centennial banner that has fallen.
And only then—
having refused a false pause—
I could finally rest.
Contemplatio — The Word Lived (Chestertonian Synthesis)

The modern world mistakes pause for retreat.
But God pauses the way a composer pauses—
to make the next note unmistakable.
The Church does not need silence;
she needs stillness honest enough to listen.
True synodality is not delay.
It is attention.
God pauses history not to avoid responsibility,
but to assume it.
And if Emmanuel is truly with us,
then He is also with those
whose pain has been politely stepped around
during celebrations.
Christmas does not ask us to stop asking.
It teaches us how to ask
without shouting,
without fleeing,
without hardening.
Oratio — The Word Prayed (Day 16)

Let us pray.
O God,
who wonderfully created the dignity of human nature
and still more wonderfully restored it,
grant, we pray,
that we may share in the divinity of Christ
who humbled Himself to share in our humanity.
Teach us when to pause
and when to speak.
Free us from both haste and fear.
And during this Centennial celebration,
grant the grace of synodality—
that truth may be faced,
wounds acknowledged,
and your people gathered in justice and peace.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Actio — The Word Made Flesh

“Should we not pause and consider this? At this stage, I propose that we focus on the dominant technocratic paradigm and the place of human beings and of human action in the world.”
Laudato si’ §101
Today I will practice the pause that listens:
- I will remain present without forcing outcomes.
- I will continue asking without demanding answers.
- I will resist both outrage and indifference.
I entrust the timing to God
and the asking to love.
🎵 “O Come, All Ye Faithful”
🎬Movie: The Nativity Story (2006)
God does not enter history with banners or denial, but through humility, courage, and quiet obedience.
Mary does not explain herself. Joseph does not defend himself.
They simply make room for God—and in doing so, reveal that real holiness begins where silence gives way to faith, and where love stands with the vulnerable rather than protecting appearances.

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.


