Today the Scriptures speak of family, but not the sentimental kind framed in gold and hung safely on the wall.
They speak instead of duty and danger, of obedience forged under pressure.
Sirach tells me that family is where sins are atoned for—not by denial, but by reverence, patience, and care when strength has faded.
The Psalm sings of children like olive shoots—not decorations, but living, demanding, stubborn signs of continuity.
Saint Paul reminds me that family is stitched together not by perfection, but by forgiveness, humility, and the hard work of peace.
And the Gospel does not place the Holy Family around a glowing hearth.
It sends them running into exile—a father who listens in dreams, a mother who trusts without explanation, a child whose very existence threatens the powerful.
This is not a family preserved by silence.
It is a family preserved by movement, truth, and protection of the vulnerable.
“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 three principles of the ‘preventive method’— reason, religion, and loving kindness.”
Dilexi te, §70
Can synodality itself become a preventive method—meeting the Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen not with reaction, but with reason, religion, and loving-kindness?
2. Meditatio — The Word Considered
I have been posting this daily Lectio Divina—this Centennial prayer for Synodality—not because it is comfortable, but because it feels necessary for my salvation.
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
And because God is fond of paradox, I now see that it is also for my family.
Not only my immediate family—those who share my table and name—but the wider family to which I belong:
St. Mary’s Cathedral,
the Diocese of Amarillo,
and the wounded, sprawling, stubborn family of the Church.
Christmas tempts me to imagine Jesus as a harmless infant, safely admired.
But today reminds me that Jesus is a child who must be protected, sometimes by flight, sometimes by confrontation, always by truth.
Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
If I am to honor the Holy Family, then I must ask:
What kind of family do we become when we protect reputation more than children?
What kind of family celebrates a centennial without reckoning with those harmed along the way?
If I am to be faithful, I must guard Christ within myself—
and that means guarding the least within every family I claim as my own.
3. Contemplatio — The Mystery Held
Here Chesterton would laugh gently and say:
The modern world believes family is where nothing difficult is discussed.
The Gospel insists family is where nothing essential is avoided.
The Holy Family does not survive by pretending Herod is harmless.
Nor does it build its identity on nostalgia.
It survives because Joseph listens, Mary consents, and truth moves their feet.
If the Church is truly family, then Synodality is not rebellion—it is kinship.
It is the refusal to abandon wounded siblings for the sake of peace that costs too little.
4. Oratio — The Word Prayed (Day 19)
God our Father,
in the Holy Family of Nazareth
you have given us not an escape from reality,
but the courage to face it together.
Grant that as we honor Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,
we may learn to protect what is vulnerable,
to speak when silence harms,
and to walk together—even when the road leads through exile and truth.
During this Centennial,
grant us the grace of Synodality regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen,
so that our Church family may become a place of healing, not avoidance;
of memory, not denial;
of love that tells the truth.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
5. Actio — The Word Lived
“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
Today I will practice family-shaped Synodality:
I will choose one act of care that places relationship above reputation—
listening before defending,
remembering before celebrating,
and walking with those whose wounds make family uncomfortable.
🎵 “Mary and Joseph and the Baby and Me”
🎬Movie: Maria di Nazaret (2012)
Email to Bishop Zurek
Subject: A Request for Synodal Discernment Regarding the Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen
Your Excellency,
I write to you during this Christmas season after many days of prayer and reflection, particularly through Lectio Divina, regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s Centennial and the tribute honoring Bishop Matthiesen.
Over time, my focus has shifted. I am no longer asking simply for the removal of the tribute, but for the beginning of a genuine synodal process around it. I believe silence—however well-intended—has become pastorally burdensome, especially for survivors of clergy abuse connected to what Bishop Matthiesen himself described as a “serious mistake.”
My concern is rooted not in accusation, but in family: the family of survivors, the parish family, the diocesan family, and the wider Church. In the spirit of reason, religion, and loving kindness, I ask whether we might openly discern why this tribute exists, how it is received by those wounded by abuse, and what faithfulness to the Gospel requires of us during this Centennial year.
Christmas reminds us that God chose humility over grandeur, presence over silence, and truth spoken in love over avoidance. I respectfully ask that this matter be engaged synodally—with listening, dialogue, and prayer—so that healing, not division, may mark our celebration.
Please know that I remain committed to the Church, to the Eucharist, and to walking this path in charity and fidelity.
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.