Day 30 of Lectio Divina for Synodality
Centennial of the Diocese of Amarillo
1. Lectio (Reading)
Today the Gospel opens not with thunder, but with breath.
Jesus returns to Galilee in the power of the Spirit—
not escaping opposition, not dodging memory,
but walking straight back into His hometown.
He does not improvise.
He does not soften the text.
He opens Isaiah and reads the dangerous words:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.
Not the spirit of nostalgia.
Not the spirit of celebration for its own sake.
Not the spirit of institutional self-protection.
The Spirit that anoints Him
is the Spirit that sends Him toward the poor,
toward the captive,
toward the blind,
toward the oppressed.
And then He sits down.
Which is to say:
He lets the room decide what kind of Spirit they want.
“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.”
“If politicians and professionals do not listen…’democracy atrophies, turns into a slogan, a formality; it loses its representative character and becomes disembodied, since it leaves out the people in their daily struggle for dignity, in the building of their future.’ The same must be said of the institutions of the Church.”
Dilexi te §80
If Communion is one of our Centennial pillars, can it survive without listening—or does a Church that refuses to hear the wounded slowly turn from a living body into a well-polished institution?
2. Meditatio (Meditation)
With what Spirit am I celebrating this Centennial?
That is the question that will not leave me alone.
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
I can speak eloquently about Synodality.
I can write patiently.
I can even sound merciful.
But whose benefit is this Spirit serving?
Am I animated by irritation disguised as righteousness?
By pride dressed up as prophecy?
By a desire to win rather than to heal?
Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
Or am I animated by the Spirit who does not arrive for His own advantage?
Here is the paradox that steadies me:
Christ receives the Spirit,
not because He lacks anything,
but because we do.
He receives the Spirit for us,
so that our wounded nature might be renewed in Him.
If that is true—and the Church insists it is—
then my seeking of Synodality is not about exposure,
but about restoration.
Not about erasing history,
but about letting the Spirit tell the truth
so that the poor are not left outside the celebration
listening to speeches meant for someone else.
If I speak at all,
let it be with the Spirit that bends low—
never the spirit that stands tall and congratulates itself.
3. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)
The Spirit is not offended by questions.
Only false spirits are.
The true Spirit does not fear history;
He redeems it.
The Spirit that descended gently on Christ
still prefers to work quietly—
not by banners,
but by consciences.
And perhaps the greatest danger of a centennial
is not what we remember,
but what we refuse to let the Spirit finish saying.
The Spirit speaks most clearly
where the Church feels least comfortable listening.
4. Oratio (Prayer)
O God,
who bestow light upon all nations,
grant that we may rejoice
not in polished memory
but in purified truth.
Pour into our hearts that living light
by which you once softened the minds of our fathers in faith,
and soften ours as well.
Let your Spirit guide our celebration
so that nothing false is praised,
nothing wounded is ignored,
and nothing true is feared.
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.
5. Actio (Action)
“’The Holy Spirit can be said to possess an infinite creativity, proper to the divine mind, which knows how to loosen the knots of human affairs, including the most complex and inscrutable’.”
Laudato si’ §80
Today I will practice Synodality
by listening without correcting,
by staying present without rushing resolution,
and by trusting that the Spirit works
even when outcomes remain unfinished.
Faithfulness, not success, is my measure.
🎶 “Spirit in the Sky” – Norman Greenbaum
The Spirit doesn’t give me a script—
only the courage to keep walking toward the light.
🎬Movie: Tender Mercies (1983)
The Spirit works here the way it always does—
not by spectacle, but by persistence, patience, and grace.
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.