Jesus was driving out a demon that was mute, and when the demon had gone out, the mute man spoke and the crowds were amazed.
Some said, “By the power of Beelzebul he drives out demons.”
But Jesus said:
“Every kingdom divided against itself will be laid waste… But if it is by the finger of God that I drive out demons, then the Kingdom of God has come upon you…
Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.”
If the Centennial pillar of Communion calls me to walk together in responsibility, cooperation, and education, am I allowing these virtues to guide the direction of technology in my life—or am I letting it take the wheel while I keep driving forward without reflection?
2. Meditatio
One of the sins that appears in my confessional ledger with almost embarrassing regularity is speeding while driving.
I confess it dutifully, though I must admit that somewhere deep inside I am chuckling like a man who has just been caught stealing apples but believes the orchard belongs to him anyway.
For the most frequent occasion of this speeding occurs while I am racing to morning Mass.
And in my mind echoes the voice of Monsignor Waldow declaring with great pastoral clarity:
“If you come in after the beginning of the first reading, don’t present yourself for Communion.”
Now there is something about that statement which has the effect of transforming an otherwise calm Christian into something resembling a Formula One driver in a parish parking lot.
Yet the Gospel has a way of interrupting even the most pious excuses.
For however good receiving Communion may be, driving like a man possessed in order to receive it is suspiciously close to behaving like the demon being driven out.
Christ drives demons out of people.
I, on the other hand, appear quite capable of driving one into myself on the way to church.
The problem is not the speed of the car but the division of the heart.
Perhaps someday it will even transport an actual horse.
Part of me is rushing toward Christ, while another part is scattering charity across the highway like loose gravel.
I sometimes wonder what the driver I just zipped around thinks when he watches me turn triumphantly into the parking lot of St. Mary’s Cathedral.
He may not know the Gospel reading of the day, but he may reasonably suspect that Christians are in a terrible hurry to arrive somewhere they forgot to practice on the way.
And that is the curious paradox of Lent:
The Kingdom of God may be advancing steadily in my life, but the speed limit of holiness is almost always slower than I prefer.
Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.
The difficulty lies precisely here:
Christ does not merely ask me to arrive at holy places.
He asks me to travel in a holy manner.
The kingdom that Christ builds is not divided between the church parking lot and the highway that leads to it.
Holiness must govern both the destination and the driving.
4. Oratio
Lord Jesus,
You drive out the demons that divide the human heart.
Drive out from me the impatience, pride, and small hypocrisies that follow me even to church.
Teach me to travel toward you with the same charity I hope to receive from you.
Amen.
5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality
The culture of relativism is the same disorder which drives one person to take advantage of another, to treat others as mere objects, imposing forced labour on them or enslaving them to pay their debts.
Small daily actions reveal whether we truly live in communion with others and with creation. Synodality calls us to walk together patiently, not rushing ahead of one another.
Today I will practice patience in one ordinary situation—perhaps even while driving—remembering that charity must accompany me wherever I go.
6. Song Pairing 🎵
🎶 “Radar Love” — Golden Earring🎵
A legendary song about speeding toward someone you love—yet the Gospel reminds me that even love should not require reckless driving.
7. Movie Pairing 🎬
🎬Movie: Speed (1994)
Hollywood teaches that if the speed drops, the bomb explodes. The Gospel suggests something different: if the love drops, everything explodes.
I struggle even to pronounce the word concupiscence, much less explain it. Fortunately, Joshua Correa manages both with admirable clarity in the latest episode of Spiritual Arms: Five Minutes for the Battle—and even explains why Lent, that season of spiritual combat, is actually his favorite time of year. Five minutes that make the battle make sense.
The Introverted Apostle: Small Group vs. Large Group Engagement Doosterhaus. Doisterhaus. Dusterhaus. However you pronounce it, Davlyn brought wisdom. 😄 Less noise and more depth in this week’s episode, Davlyn Duesterhaus unpacks introvert survival tips: start small, know your boundaries, make eye contact (occasionally), and why wholeness takes both introverts and extroverts. It’s not either/or…it’s both/and. Take a deep breath and say, “Okay, God, here we go!” ⛪😌 BONUS: We attempt to pronounce her name correctly.
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. ❤️🔥
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.
A tribute to Bishop Matthiesen—now a complex symbol in our diocesan history, erected by former priest John Salazar, whose later abuse conviction reminds us how painful chapters of the Church’s past must be faced honestly as we seek healing and communion.
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.
While we recognize your thoughtful suggestion for a renewed dialogue on Bishop Matthiesen, the present circumstances do not present an opportunity for it. I think it would foster division not dialogue. We remain confident in God’s providence and hopeful for what the future may bring.
