Our Lord speaks with unnerving clarity. This generation seeks a sign. Yet no sign will be given except the sign of Jonah. And then the sharp word: others will rise up and condemn it — not because they had more light, but because they responded to less.
Something greater than Jonah is here. Something greater than Solomon is here.
And I tremble, for something greater than my arguments is here as well.
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.”
From the moment of creation, God wanted man and woman to be his interlocutors, and, as Saint Gregory of Nyssa [1] explained, he imprinted on our faces a reflection of divine love, so that we may fully live our humanity through love. Preserving human faces and voices, therefore, means preserving this mark, this indelible reflection of God’s love. We are not a species composed of predefined biochemical formulas. Each of us possesses an irreplaceable and inimitable vocation, that originates from our own lived experience and becomes manifest through interaction with others.
As I reflect on hope — the Centennial pillar for February, when I am tempted to condemn our “serious mistake” rather than converse, do I remember that every face and voice bears the indelible reflection of God’s love, and that true hope lies not in winning arguments but in preserving that sacred image through charity, dialogue, and communion?
2. Meditatio
Today St. Mary’s Cathedral opens her doors for a Day of Adoration as part of our Centennial Celebration. A hundred years of faith distilled into a monstrance and silence.
I want to go. Indeed, I shall go. I wish to be among the faithful and loyal disciples whom the Lord Jesus desires. I desire to kneel with the others, to bend the stubborn architecture of my spine toward humility.
And yet I feel the peculiar prick of conscience.
If I kneel without remembering what troubles me — the tribute to Bishop Matthiesen and what former Bishop Zurek called our “serious mistake” — will my silence become hypocrisy? Will my adoration quietly condemn me? Will my folded hands be more performance than prayer?
The men of Nineveh repented at Jonah’s croak. I, who have the Eucharist — who have Christ veiled and present — am still negotiating.
It is a dreadful thing to adore without honesty.
Yet it is also a dreadful thing to allow grievance to replace grace.
Perhaps I fear not condemnation from Christ, but from my own unfinished thoughts. Perhaps I confuse agitation with righteousness. It is entirely possible that my anxiety over the tribute is less about justice and more about control — which is a rather Pharisaical hobby.
If I come to You today burdened, do not let my burden become bitterness.
If I come confused, do not let confusion harden into pride.
I lay before You my concerns, my frustrations, my desire for Synodality, and my desire to belong.
Convert what needs converting in me. Purify what needs purifying. And let my adoration be honest, not theatrical.
Something greater than Jonah is here. Let that be enough.
Amen.
5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality
…“the urgent need for a radical change in the conduct of humanity”, inasmuch as “the most extraordinary scientific advances, the most amazing technical abilities, the most astonishing economic growth, unless they are accompanied by authentic social and moral progress, will definitively turn against man”.[3]
Lent is not about self-loathing, but about letting grace interrupt the narrative of condemnation. Something greater than my mistakes is here.
7. Movie Pairing 🎬
🎬Movie:Hamnet (2025)
Grief, misunderstanding, and memory can either imprison or purify us. Like Hamlet’s father’s ghost, unresolved wounds can haunt — unless surrendered to something greater than revenge.
Introvert + Apostle = Christian paradox unlocked. 🔓 Father Taylor Elzner explains how silence fuels mission, why labels aren’t boxes, and how to stop “communion to escape” and start living grace outward. Grace doesn’t delete your introversion — it perfects it! Introverts aren’t anti-social — we just need better WiFi with Heaven before mingling. This episode is introverted…but we make sure it is apostolic. 🌱
Your Eminence Cardinal DiNardo,
Grace and peace to you in Christ.
On behalf of many of the faithful in the Diocese of Amarillo, I wish to extend to you a heartfelt welcome as our Apostolic Administrator. Please know of my prayers for you as you shepherd us during this significant moment in our diocesan history.
As we continue celebrating our Centennial year, we give thanks for the many blessings God has bestowed upon this local Church over the past one hundred years. At the same time, anniversaries naturally invite both gratitude and honest reflection.
It is in that spirit of reflection — and in the spirit of synodality so frequently emphasized in the life of the Church today — that I respectfully ask whether there might be an opportunity for renewed dialogue regarding the Tribute to Bishop Matthiesen and what former Bishop Zurek referred to as the “serious mistake” that brought about its existence.
My desire is not to reopen wounds or foster division, but rather to seek clarity, healing, and communion. I believe many of us long to celebrate our Centennial with consciences fully at peace, confident that we have honestly acknowledged our history while entrusting it to the mercy of Christ.
Synodality, as I understand it, calls us to walk together — clergy and laity alike — in truth and charity. If there is a path forward that allows for thoughtful listening, careful discernment, and pastoral guidance on this matter, I would be deeply grateful.
Thank you for your willingness to serve us during this transitional season. Please be assured of my continued prayers for your ministry and for the unity of our diocesan family.
Respectfully in Christ,
Darrell Glenn
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.
