“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.”
Each day, I will read a paragraph from the encyclical Dilexi te and weave a quotation from it into that day’s Lectio Divina.
Memorial in the Grotto of St. Mary’s Cathedral. The inscription says: “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 more we strive to secure a common good corresponding to the real needs of our neighbors, the more effectively we love them.’”
As a matter of faith—the January pillar of our Centennial—do I believe it is easier to truly love my neighbors who are effected by our “serious mistake” by striving for the common good that corresponds to their real needs, rather than settling for gestures that cost me little?
2. Meditatio (Meditation)
Decades ago, my father labored at trenching and laying water lines to the far reaches of The Glenn. Over time, leaks appeared, lines failed, and—being a modern man—I found it easier to run long hoses from working faucets rather than uncover the buried truth beneath the soil.
“Bishop Matthiesen — a shepherd whose legacy in our diocese still asks hard questions of us today. May truth, healing, and justice be the final word.” Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
This worked well enough—until it didn’t. Young dogs chewed hoses. Repairs became constant. What was easier turned out to be exhausting.
Eventually, it became easier—though not simpler—to return to my father’s way. I dug. I traced the old PVC lines. I fixed one joint, then another. I installed valves where strength had been lost.
At one point I was discouraged: the pipe did not seem to go where I wanted it to go. But staying faithfully on my father’s path, I discovered an elbow joint— a hidden turn— that led exactly where the water needed to flow.
Above: The Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
That is when the Gospel speaks back to me.
It may seem easier for the Diocese of Amarillo, during our Centennial, to leave buried what was broken— to celebrate without touching the flaw, to forgive without uncovering the wound, to walk past the mat without lifting it.
Is it easier to say, “The past is forgiven,” or to do the harder work of lifting the mat, opening the roof, and letting truth be lowered into the presence of mercy?
The paradox is this: what appears harder—repair, repentance, synodality— is finally the easier way to healing.
3. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)
A tribute, built for Bishop Matthiesen, while John Salazar—a convicted pedophile priest whom Matthiesen kept in ministry against the counsel of cardinal archbishops, giving Salazar a “second chance.” That second chance resulted in the sexual assault of youth in our own diocese. And just before he was defrocked and sent to prison, he raised this monument in Bishop Matthiesen’s honor. Its presence remains a painful reminder of “serious mistakes” that harmed the very flock Bishop Matthiesen was meant to protect.
The world is always impressed by shortcuts, but Heaven is impressed by holes in roofs.
God forgives sins as easily as He commands legs to move, yet we resist both with equal stubbornness. We prefer invisible forgiveness to visible restoration, quiet absolution to public healing.
But the Church does not exist to preserve ceilings. She exists to let grace fall through them.
What we refuse to uncover becomes paralysis. What we dare to lower before Christ rises and walks home.
4. Oratio (Prayer)
Lord Jesus, you know how quickly I choose what is easier for my pride and how slowly I choose what is easier for your mercy.
Give me the courage to uncover what has been hidden, the patience to repair what others built imperfectly, and the humility to trust that your authority extends not only to forgiveness, but to healing made visible.
Teach our Diocese to choose the easier way of truth over the exhausting labor of avoidance, so that what has been paralyzed by silence may rise and walk again.
Amen.
5. Actio (Action – Synodality & Laudato si’)
“Since the market tends to promote extreme consumerism in an effort to sell its products, people can easily get caught up in a whirlwind of needless buying and spending.”
Today I will resist the temptation to choose what is convenient over what is communal. I will practice synodality by listening longer than is comfortable and by believing that shared repair is easier than solitary denial.
6. Song Pairing
🎶 “It’s Easier Said Than Done”
Because forgiveness spoken without listening is easy— healing lived together is the harder grace that endures.
7. Movie Pairing
🎬Movie: The Shawshank Redemption
Real freedom doesn’t come from ignoring the walls, but from patiently breaking through them— stone by stone—until hope walks free.
I found myself unexpectedly at home while listening to The Introverted Apostle. There is something delightfully paradoxical about discovering that quiet souls can still be sent ones. I recognized more of myself than I anticipated, and I’m looking forward to seeing what future episodes reveal—not just about apostleship, but about the strange ways God works through reserve rather than noise. Thank you, Diocese of Amarillo, for offering this thoughtful and refreshing podcast.
Subject: A Request to Be Heard in the Spirit of Synodality During Our Centennial
Your Excellency Bishop Zurek,
I write to you with respect and with a sincere desire to remain in communion with the Church during this Centennial year of the Diocese of Amarillo.
As we approach the Centennial celebrations and the Respect Life Mass, I find myself holding an interior conflict that I cannot ignore in conscience. In prayer, particularly through Lectio Divina on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, I was struck by the single word spoken by Christ to John the Baptist: “Allow it.” Those words have stayed with me.
They raise a question in my heart: what does the Church allow herself to hear, and whom does she allow herself to accompany?
I desire to celebrate our Centennial and to stand in solidarity with the Church’s witness to the dignity of life. At the same time, I struggle to do so without any space for synodality regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen, especially in light of what has been acknowledged as a “serious mistake” during that period of our history. The continued silence around this tribute weighs heavily on me, not as an accusation, but as a pastoral wound.
Recently, Pope Leo reminded the Church that “abuse itself causes a deep wound, which may last a lifetime; but often the greater scandal is that the door was closed and victims were not welcomed or accompanied with the closeness of authentic pastors.” He shared the testimony of a victim who said that the most painful part was that no bishop wanted to listen. The Holy Father emphasized that listening is profoundly important and asked the Church to deepen dialogue and implement synodality.
It is in this spirit that I write. I am not asking for condemnation, nor am I asking for erasure of history. I am asking whether there can be listening—whether synodality can be allowed—so that the Centennial truly reflects the four pillars we have named: faith, hope, communion, and mission.
I want to be present at the Respect Life Mass and to celebrate our Centennial in good conscience. But I also want to know that the Church I love is willing to listen to those for whom this tribute remains a source of pain, confusion, and exclusion.
Your Excellency, I remain obedient to your pastoral authority, but I also remain compelled by conscience and prayer to ask that this conversation be allowed to take place. I believe that such listening would not diminish our celebration, but purify it.
Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. Please know of my prayers for you and for our Diocese during this significant year.
Respectfully in Christ,
Darrell
My Story
Photo used by permission of Douglas Kirkland/Corbis via Getty Images
Memorial in the Grotto of St. Mary’s Cathedral. The inscription says: “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.“
I was one of “the few” Bishop Zurek spoke of in this letter. He first posted it in August of 2019, and in response to my, “calling out all the more“, he kept reposting it atop the diocesan news page until December 11, 2019. There it remains to this day.
Fr. Ed Graff, brought here from Philadelphia by Bishop Matthiesen, was arrested in 2002 for sexually assaulting a minor and died later that year in jail. Despite the harm linked to his ministry, he was buried in an honored section of Llano Cemetery among our pioneering clergy — a decision that continues to wound survivors and raise hard questions for our diocese.
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 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.
