Day 26 of Lectio Divina for Synodality
During the Centennial Celebration of the Diocese of Amarillo
In regard to the “Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen”
1. Lectio — The Star That Refuses to Go Out“
Today the Scriptures blaze with a stubborn light.
Isaiah commands the impossible:
“Rise up in splendor!”
—not because Jerusalem has earned it, but because God has decided to shine anyway. Darkness is not denied; it is simply outmatched.
Paul widens the sky itself. The Star is not tribal. It does not hover over one people only. Gentiles, outsiders, the uninvited—coheirs, he calls them. The Star reveals what had always been true but never fully seen.
And then the Gospel: scholars miss it, priests calculate it, a king fears it—but strangers follow it. The Magi do not possess the Star; they are possessed by it. They ask questions. They travel. They risk Herod. They kneel not before power, but before a Child.
The Star does not erase danger.
It guides through it.
“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 poor people are great people, are very lovable people, they do not need our pity and sympathy, they need our understanding love.’”
Dilexi te §77
Can I live with hope—one of the four pillars of our Diocesan Centennial—that the victims of our “serious mistake” are not objects of pity or sympathy, but great and deeply lovable people who ask of us not charity alone, but understanding, faithful love?
Meditatio — Following a Star I Did Not Invent
Today I admit that I am following a Star.
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
Not a spotlight.
Not certainty.
A Star.
It is a quiet, insistent longing that has followed me for over twenty years as I seek Synodality in regard to the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen. At times I lost sight of it—wandered into anger, fatigue, silence, resignation. But now, in this Centennial year, it shines again with an inconvenient clarity.
Like the Magi, I am forced to pass through the court of a local king. I must ask questions I cannot answer myself. I must risk misunderstanding. I must accept that power may feel threatened by a light it did not light.
I am not following this Star because I know where it ends.
I am following it because I know Who it does not point to—
not prestige, not silence, not curated memory.
Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
The Star leads only to Christ.
And Christ is always found among the vulnerable.
Contemplatio — A Chestertonian Synthesis
The modern world fears the Star because it cannot be managed.
It prefers floodlights—large, impressive, and blinding enough to hide what lies beneath. But God prefers a Star: small, patient, humiliatingly precise. It shines just enough to expose the difference between kneeling and ruling.
Herod feared the Star because it could not be negotiated with.
The Magi loved it because it could not be owned.
And here is the paradox that delights heaven and terrifies power:
The Star does not ask us to succeed—only to follow.
It does not promise safety—only truth.
It does not end in explanation—but in adoration.
The Star still moves.
The only question is whether I will.
Oratio — Day 26 Prayer for Synodality
O God,
who on this day revealed your Only Begotten Son to the nations
by the guidance of a star,
grant in your mercy
that we who already know you by faith
may not dim the light you have given us.
Give us the courage to follow where your light leads,
even when it passes through questions, discomfort, and truth.
Make us a Church that does not fear illumination,
but trusts that every true star leads to your Son.
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.
Amen.
Actio — Walking by Starlight (Laudato si’)
“’Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all you shining stars! Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for he commanded and they were created’ (Ps 148:3-5). We do not only exist by God’s mighty power; we also live with him and beside him. This is why we adore him.”
Laudato si’ §72
Action:
Today I choose to walk by starlight, not spotlight.
I will listen before defending, ask before asserting, and remain present where the Church is wounded—trusting that Synodality is not a shortcut, but a pilgrimage.
🎶 “Star of Wonder”
It does not demand certainty, only courage to follow.
🎬Movie: A Star Is Born (1954)
This story reminds me that some stars rise loudly, others fade quietly—but the truest light is not applause, success, or spectacle. It is faithfulness.
Like the Magi, we follow the star not to be seen, but to kneel.
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.