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 question at heart, however, is not what machines can or will be able to do, but what we can and will be able to achieve, by growing in humanity and knowledge through the wise use of the powerful tools at our service. Individuals have always sought to acquire the fruits of knowledge without the effort required by commitment, research and personal responsibility. However, renouncing creativity and surrendering our mental capacities and imagination to machines would mean burying the talents we have been given to grow as individuals in relation to God and others. It would mean hiding our faces and silencing our voices.
As I reflect on Communion — the Centennial pillar for March, do I truly wish to grow in humanity, knowledge, and relationship with God and others by using the tools at my service wisely, or am I tempted to surrender my creativity, responsibility, and voice to machines—burying the very talents meant to build communion with real faces and real voices in the Body of Christ who suffer from our “serious mistake“?
2. Meditatio
I am told frequently these days that I should pray for religious liberty. There are commissions, executive orders, advisory councils, and noble declarations devoted to protecting the right of believers to practice their faith freely. It all sounds terribly respectable.
But the Gospel introduces a troubling thought: sometimes our wishes are merely ambitions wearing the vestments of prayer.
The mother of James and John approaches Jesus with a request that is both devout and ridiculous. She kneels, she honors Him, she asks politely—and she asks for power.
“Grant that my sons may sit at your right and your left.”
Jesus’ reply is not anger but bewilderment:
“You do not know what you are asking.”
I wonder if my own wishes sometimes sound equally pious and equally misguided.
When I pray for religious liberty, what do I mean? Do I mean the freedom to serve God faithfully, or the freedom to avoid suffering for Him?
For Christ did not found the Church in comfort. He founded it on a Cross.
The curious thing about Christianity is that it flourishes under persecution and grows sleepy under privilege. The blood of martyrs has historically proven to be a better fertilizer than the policies of governments.
Perhaps my wish is not wrong—but it may be incomplete.
The real danger is not that the Church will be oppressed. The real danger is that the Church will become comfortable.
Christ does not promise His disciples protection. He promises them a chalice.
And the question is not whether I wish to sit beside Him in glory. The question is whether I wish to drink what He drinks.
3. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis – St. Casimir)
Today we remember Saint Casimir, a prince who had every earthly privilege available to him. If ever a man could have wished for influence, luxury, and royal authority, it was he.
He refused corruption, embraced humility, and spent long hours in prayer. He was known not for political power but for spiritual purity. The son of a king chose the poverty of Christ.
The paradox is delightful: a prince who wished to be a servant.
Casimir understood something modern Christians sometimes forget— that the true throne of Christ is not a seat of power but a place beside the poor.
He did not wish to rule with Christ. He wished to resemble Him.
And that, I suspect, is the only wish worth making.
4. Oratio
Lord Jesus,
Purify my wishes. Strip away the ambitions disguised as prayers.
If I seek comfort, correct me. If I seek honor, humble me. If I seek safety, strengthen me.
Teach me to wish not for power beside You, but for the courage to follow You.
Amen.
5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality
In our time, the Church does not simply state that other creatures are completely subordinated to the good of human beings, as if they have no worth in themselves and can be treated as we wish.
Laudato Si’ reminds us that authentic freedom is not domination but service within a web of relationships. Synodality calls the Church to walk together, listening even to those who do not share our faith.
This week I will pray not only for my own religious liberty, but for the freedom of all people to seek truth, practice conscience, and live with dignity.
Communion grows when freedom is shared, not guarded.
Every wish reveals the heart that makes it. The Gospel asks not whether our wishes come true—but whether they are worthy of coming true.
Takeaways: • Think about the people in your life who have lovingly called you out on sin and encouraged you to grow closer to Jesus. They’ve acted like prophets for you. • Through Baptism, you are called to be a priest, king, and prophet — meaning you are sent to share the Gospel as a missionary disciple. • Live out that calling by praying more, going to Mass, and receiving the Sacraments. When you live with real joy and hope, others will notice…and it opens the door to share God’s love.
Move over, celebrity sightings…this is a Sacred Heart sighting! ❤️ Duane and Theresa are popping up in parishes everywhere, helping families put Christ at the heart of their homes and spreading devotion that’s anything but half-hearted. But wherever they go, they’re on fire for the Sacred Heart of Jesus. 🔥 In this episode, Duane and Theresa talk First Fridays, 12 powerful promises, and why enthroning your home might be the best “heart upgrade” you’ll ever make. Warning: Sacred Heart enthusiasm may be contagious. ❤️🔥
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.
