1. Lectio (Reading — received 1. Lectio (Sacred Reading)as wonder)“
Today the Gospel begins with the most unsettling of all questions:
“Who are you?”
John is questioned by priests, Levites, experts, and authorities—people who believe that holiness must arrive with credentials, titles, or official sanction. They want a label they can file away neatly.
John refuses every one.
At last, when pressed to explain himself, he gives an answer that sounds like a riddle and feels like an evasion:
Not a man to be admired.
Not a figure to be honored.
Not even a message to be preserved.
Just a voice, meant to disappear once it has been heard.
And yet, John insists that Someone greater already stands among them, unseen and unrecognized. The light is present—but unacknowledged. The truth is nearby—but unnamed.
The Gospel does not tell us who John is so much as it strips away who he is not, until only obedience remains.
“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.”
“…’our response to the challenges posed by contemporary migration can be summed up in four verbs: welcome, protect, promote and integrate. Yet these verbs do not apply only to migrants and refugees. They describe the Church’s mission to all those living in the existential peripheries, who need to be welcomed, protected, promoted and integrated.’”
Dilexi te §75
Since my response to the challenges of contemporary migration can be summed up in four verbs—welcome, protect, promote, and integrate—can these not apply to more than migrants and refugees alone? Do they not also describe my mission—one of the four pillars of our Centennial Celebration—toward all who live on the existential peripheries, especially the victims of Bishop Matthiesen’s “serious mistake,” who likewise need to be welcomed, protected, promoted, and integrated?
Meditatio (Meditation)
Today I turn the question inward, and it does not come gently.
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
Who am I to ask Bishop Zurek for Synodality during our Centennial Celebration regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen?
I am not a bishop.
I am not a theologian.
I am not a survivor with a public platform.
I am not a prophet—if John the Baptist himself denied the title.
Saints Basil and Gregory Nazianzen, whose memorial we keep today, were once described as two bodies with a single spirit. Gregory wrote that each was so fully present in the other that separation became almost impossible. Their unity was born not of power, but of shared truth and humility.
And I?
I have been told—in writing—that I am not among the “faithful and loyal disciples” the Lord desires.
Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
So who am I?
I am an obese, aging, would-be shepherd who once asked a bishop—now dead—to apologize for what he himself called a “serious mistake.” He answered with “no regrets.”
I did not know the priest who erected the tribute.
I did not know the victims he abused.
And yet, as long as the Diocese remains silent about that tribute, I find myself unable to claim innocence.
Silence makes witnesses.
Silence makes accomplices.
Silence makes victims—sometimes of a different kind, but victims nonetheless.
So if I must answer the question, “Who are you?”
I can only say this:
I am not the Christ.
I am not Elijah.
I am not the Prophet.
I am only a voice—uncomfortable, imperfect, and unwanted—asking whether we might talk about what we have chosen not to name.
Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)
The paradox of Christianity is that the Church is strongest when it refuses to protect itself.
John did not build a monument to his ministry.
Basil and Gregory did not cling to office for its own sake.
Truth advanced because someone agreed to become smaller.
Perhaps Synodality does not begin with answers at all, but with the courage to ask who we are—and who we are becoming—when silence feels safer than speech.
The voice is not the Light.
But the voice exists for the sake of the Light.
And if the Light is truly present among us, it does not need our silence to survive.
Oratio (Prayer — Day 24 Collect, revised)
O God,
who were pleased to give light to your Church
by the example and teaching
of Saints Basil and Gregory,
grant, we pray,
that in humility I may learn your truth
and practice it faithfully in charity.
Strip from me every false title,
every need to justify myself,
every temptation to be more than a voice.
Teach me to speak only what prepares your way,
and to trust that you stand already among us,
even when unrecognized.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever.
Actio (Action – Synodality & Laudato si’)
“At one extreme, we find those who doggedly uphold the myth of progress and tell us that ecological problems will solve themselves simply with the application of new technology and without any need for ethical considerations or deep change. At the other extreme are those who view men and women and all their interventions as no more than a threat, jeopardizing the global ecosystem, and consequently the presence of human beings on the planet should be reduced and all forms of intervention prohibited.”
Laudato si’ §60
Inspired by Laudato si’, I will practice integral listening today—resisting the urge to defend my position, and instead remaining open to voices I do not control, remembering that Synodality begins not with agreement, but with presence.
🎶 “Who Am I” – Casting Crowns
🎬Movie: Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)
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.