I hear Christ speak not as a revolutionary shouting from a rooftop, but as a Bridegroom calmly explaining reality. Newness, He insists, is not destruction—but fidelity that has learned to breathe.
“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.”
“The Church was moved by the masses of the poor suffering from unemployment, underemployment, unjust wages and sub-standard living conditions.”
Do I have the faith—our January Centennial pillar—to allow the Church’s long-standing concern for the poor to become something new in me, so that the suffering caused by our “serious mistake” is not merely remembered, but actively addressed in my own time and place?
2. Meditatio — Chewing the Word
I stand before our great oak—the Glenn Family Tree—now stiff with winter, its branches bearing the honest burden of snow, its roots still gripping the unseen earth with stubborn loyalty. Around it lie the brown leaves of former seasons, once alive, now only memories that crunch beneath my boots.
“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
It is tempting—dangerously tempting—to call the leaves sacred simply because they once were green.
And so I ask myself: is this how we wish to celebrate our Centennial? By canonizing the leaves and ignoring the roots? By praising the past while refusing to examine what fell from it?
Above: The Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen Below: A Fallen Centennial Banner
The Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen stands like one of those leaves—untouched, unquestioned, preserved out of habit rather than discernment. We are told it is history. But history, like wine, can ferment into truth or sour into silence.
Christ does not despise the old wineskin; He simply refuses to imprison the new within it.
If the Diocese of Amarillo is to be renewed, it cannot be by pretending that the “serious mistake” never happened, nor by embalming it in bronze and stone without conversation. New wine does not erase the vineyard—it fulfills it.
And here lies the paradox that keeps me awake: To honor the past faithfully, we must allow it to be judged honestly. To love the Church, we must allow her to grow new skin.
The Bridegroom has not abandoned us. But neither will He be poured into vessels hardened by fear of listening.
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 Church is not old because she remembers; she is old only when she refuses to repent.
The Church is not new because she innovates; she is new because she allows Christ to stretch her again.
A Centennial that cannot bear truth cannot bear fruit.
4. Oratio — Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ, Bridegroom of the Church and Lord of time, teach me to love what is old without idolizing it, and to welcome what is new without fearing it.
Give us the humility to examine our history, the courage to name our wounds, and the grace to receive the new wine of Your Spirit without bursting the vessel of communion.
Renew Your Church in Amarillo— not by erasing our past, but by redeeming it.
Amen.
5. Actio — Action (Laudato Si’ & Synodality)
“Obstructionist attitudes, even on the part of believers, can range from denial of the problem to indifference, nonchalant resignation or blind confidence in technical solutions. We require a new and universal solidarity. “
Today I will practice synodality by stewardship: listening before defending, discerning before celebrating, and remembering that what is truly new in the Church is always born from conversion, not convenience.
6. Song Pairing
🎶 “New Wine” – Hillsong Worship
A prayer disguised as a song: may pressure, waiting, and pruning make room for something new—not despite the cracks, but because of them.
7. Movie Pairing
🎬Movie:A Man for All Seasons (1966)
True renewal is not loud or reckless. It is conscience refusing to bend—even when the old ways insist they are good enough.
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.
