Saturday of the First Week of Lent

1. Lectio

“You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.”
But I say to you, love your enemies…
Be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

The command rings like a cathedral bell struck at dawn—beautiful, impossible, and rather inconsiderate to one who has not yet had his coffee.

Be perfect.

It is the sort of sentence that makes a man search for the small print.

There has long been abundant evidence that algorithms designed to maximize engagement on social media — which is profitable for platforms — reward quick emotions and penalize more time-consuming human responses such as the effort required to understand and reflect. By grouping people into bubbles of easy consensus and easy outrage, these algorithms reduce our ability to listen and think critically, and increase social polarization.

Preserving Human Voices and Faces

As I reflect on hope — the Centennial pillar for February, am I seeking a perfect digital echo chamber that flatters my quick emotions, or am I willing to resist the algorithm’s easy outrage so that I might listen more deeply, think more critically, and help build communion rather than polarization within our diocesan family in regards to our “serious mistake“?

2. Meditatio

My immediate response to the word perfect is something between laughter and protest: “My dear Lord, have You met me?” I am only human.

But then comes the troublesome fact: so was He.

Yes, I quickly retort to myself, but He was also divine. That seems an unfair advantage in the matter of perfection. Yet before I can rest in that comfortable excuse, I remember Mary—only human, and yet called full of grace.

It dawns on me that my idea of perfection is a ghastly parody of the real thing. I imagine perfection as performance—spotless boots, unruffled temper, eloquent speeches, and the ability to win every argument with episcopal efficiency.

But perhaps perfection is not a façade; perhaps it is not Eleanor the farm cat pretending innocence while plotting poultry larceny.

Perhaps perfection is mercy.

Matthew uses the word “perfect.” Luke, more practical and perhaps more sympathetic to fellows like me, translates the same idea as “Be merciful.”

Suddenly perfection looks less like marble and more like bread. Less like a statue and more like a father who lets the sun shine on both the respectable and the ridiculous—which, in my case, are often the same person.

If perfection is loving enemies, then it is not about flawlessness but fullness. Not about being without fault, but being without hatred.

And that is infinitely more difficult.

3. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)

The world believes perfection is separation: separating oneself from failure, from weakness, from unsavory neighbors, from embarrassing enemies.

Christ proposes the opposite.

Perfection is not withdrawal but generosity. It is not polishing oneself to a shine; it is pouring oneself out like rain that does not check voter registration before falling.

God’s perfection is indiscriminate love. The sun rises on scoundrels and saints with magnificent impartiality.

To be perfect, then, is not to be impeccable but to be expansive.

It is to love past injury.
To forgive past justice.
To pray past preference.

Perfection is not the absence of imperfection. It is the triumph of mercy over it.

4. Oratio

5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality

The Catechism clearly and forcefully criticizes a distorted anthropocentrism: “Each creature possesses its own particular goodness and perfection… Each of the various creatures, willed in its own being, reflects in its own way a ray of God’s infinite wisdom and goodness. Man must therefore respect the particular goodness of every creature, to avoid any disordered use of things”.[43]

Laudato si’ §69

Laudato Si’ reminds us that everything is connected and that we are called to a culture of encounter rather than exclusion.

This Lent, I will practice synodality in one concrete way:
I will initiate one respectful, listening conversation with someone I am tempted to label an “enemy.” Not to win, not to persuade, but to understand.

Perfection begins in listening.

6. Song Pairing 🎵

🎶 “It’s Hard to Be Humble” – Mac Davis🎵

7. Movie Pairing 🎬

🎬Movie: The Secret Agent (2025)

My Story

• 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.
• Bishop Daniel Cardinal DiNardo…