“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 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.”
“’Today, furthermore, given the worldwide dimension which the social question has assumed, this love of preference for the poor, and the decisions which it inspires in us, cannot but embrace the immense multitudes of the hungry, the needy, the homeless, those without medical care and, above all, those without hope of a better future.’”
Do I have the faith to recognize my need for Christ by embracing His preferential love for the poor—so that, in seeking Synodality, I do not turn away from the hungry, the needy, the homeless, and those without hope, but allow their cry to shape how I believe, listen, and act as Church?
2. Meditatio (Meditation)
One thing my livestock always need is water. That need does not disappear in winter; it becomes more demanding.
“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
The trough is full, yet useless— because it has turned to ice.
So I haul hot water. I break frozen surfaces with a hammer. I do not congratulate myself for having provided water yesterday. Need is always present tense.
Saint Anthony understood this better than most. When his parents died, he did not ask what he was entitled to keep; he asked what he needed to lose. He heard the Gospel and gave everything away—not because the poor were a problem to be solved, but because his soul was a hunger to be fed.
Anthony fled to the desert not because the world was noisy, but because his need for God was louder.
And here I am, an obese, wannabe shepherd, standing ankle-deep in frozen water buckets, aware that God has placed within me a need I did not choose and cannot un-feel: the need for synodality regarding the Diocese of Amarillo’s Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen.
Above: The Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
I am told the Church is well. I am told the Centennial is healthy. I am told it is better not to disturb what appears functional.
But Jesus does not dine with those who insist they are well. He eats with those who admit need.
If synodality is absent where the wound is deepest, then the Church may be hydrated— but the water is frozen.
Like Saint Anthony, I do not wish to flee the Church; I wish to go into the desert for her. To learn how to meet need without resentment, to speak without accusation, to persist without bitterness.
I pray that my need for synodality does not harden into demand, but softens into fidelity.
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 modern world believes need is a failure. The Gospel insists it is a doorway.
Christ does not cure Levi’s bookkeeping practices before calling him; He calls him because Levi knows he is sick.
The paradox is this: the Church is strongest where she admits her need, and weakest where she insists she has none.
Saint Anthony did not abandon society; he stripped himself so that society could remember what it had forgotten.
Perhaps synodality is not something the Church adds to a successful celebration, but something she admits she needs precisely where she feels least comfortable.
God is not offended by our need. He is offended by our denial of it.
4. Oratio (Prayer)
Lord Jesus, Physician of souls and bodies, You did not wait for me to be well before calling me.
As Saint Anthony went into the desert not to escape the world but to serve it, lead me into the quiet places of prayer where my motives are purified and my persistence becomes love.
Melt what is frozen in me. Soften what is rigid in your Church. And feed all of us who thirst with water that truly satisfies.
Amen.
5. Actio (Action – Synodality & Laudato si’)
“We need a conversation which includes everyone, since the environmental challenge we are undergoing, and its human roots, concern and affect us all. “
Inspired by Laudato Si’: Today I will treat need not as a weakness to conceal, but as a shared human condition to be honored.
I will practice synodality by listening— especially where the Church feels defensive— trusting that healing begins not with answers, but with presence.
6. Song Pairing
🎶 “People Need the Lord” – Steve Green
When the world insists it is well, the Gospel quietly reminds us otherwise. Christ sits at table not with the self-sufficient, but with those who admit their need. Synodality begins when the Church remembers why the Physician came.
7. Movie Pairing
🎬Movie:Into the Wild (2007)
Saint Anthony fled into the desert to learn what mattered; some modern pilgrims flee to forget it. This Lectio asks a harder question: Can we enter the wilderness not to escape the Church, but to help heal her—by naming what we still need?
Here is one of those modern miracles that does not involve thunder, but does involve truth. In the latest CAPN: The WTC – The Podcast, you’ll hear the very personal story that set Karlynn Hochstein on the unlikely (and very Catholic) road to becoming our Diocese of Amarillo’s Director of Family Life. It is the sort of story that reminds us that vocations are rarely born in comfort, but almost always in conviction. And it also explains why I’ll be at St. Mary’s Cathedral next Saturday at 10:00 a.m. for the Respect Life Mass—because when faith becomes flesh in real lives, the only reasonable response is to show up. Give it a listen. Truth, like grace, works best when it’s personal.
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.
