Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent

(John 5:17–30 — The Authority of the Son)

Jesus declares something both terrifying and comforting:

“Nor does the Father judge anyone, but he has given all judgment to the Son…”

And then, with equal clarity:

“Those who have done good deeds to the resurrection of life,
but those who have done wicked deeds to the resurrection of condemnation.”

The One who judges is also the One who gives life.

As per my son-in-law’s request, each day, I read a paragraph from the MESSAGE OF HIS HOLINESS POPE LEO XIV FOR THE 60TH WORLD DAY OF SOCIAL COMMUNICATIONS and weave a quotation from it into that day’s Lectio Divina.

We are all called upon to cooperate. No sector can tackle the challenge of steering digital innovation and AI governance alone. Safeguards must therefore be put in place. All stakeholders — from the tech industry to legislators, from creative companies to academia, from artists to journalists and educators — must be involved in building and implementing informed and responsible digital citizenship.

A possible alliance

We crown a champion not of holiness, but of judgment—the one who best predicts what will happen.

I have never won.

My strategy is what might be called theological optimism mixed with athletic bias. I pick Catholic schools out of loyalty, Texas A&M out of nostalgia, and higher seeds out of a misplaced trust in order.

This year presents a crisis of conscience: Texas A&M versus a Catholic school. And so I did what any confused disciple might do—I chose the Catholic underdog and called it virtue.

My bracket will likely collapse early, which is to say, it will resemble my spiritual life.

For if I am honest, my judgment of basketball teams is flawed—but my judgment of souls is far worse.

I have a remarkable ability to seed myself very highly.

I am, in my own estimation, at least a respectable number three seed—solid, experienced, with a decent chance of making a deep run into eternity.

Others, I am afraid, I place much lower.

And yet the Gospel today quietly ruins my bracket.

Jesus does not say that the highest seeds advance.

“Those who have done good… those who have done wicked…”

It is about what I have done with grace.

Nowhere is this more evident than in our tendency to judge others while quietly excusing ourselves.

We behave as though we are both the player and the committee—competing in the tournament while also selecting the seeds.

But Christ removes that illusion entirely.

He alone is Judge.

And the great twist of Christianity is this:

The Judge is the same One who died for the guilty.

Which means that judgment is not merely a verdict—it is an invitation.

You who are both Judge and Savior,
teach me to trust your judgment more than my own.

Forgive me for the times I have ranked myself too highly
and others too low.

Help me to see that every good I do
is not my achievement,
but your grace at work within me.

And when I stand before you at the end,
let me not rely on my own seeding,
but on your mercy.

Laudato si’ §135

This week, instead of judging others, I will practice synodality by listening—especially to someone I might normally dismiss or overlook.

True judgment belongs to Christ.
Communion belongs to us.

A joyful celebration of the game—but also a reminder that even the best players don’t control the outcome. In life, as in basketball, the final score is not ours to declare.
A story where the underdogs win not because of seeding, but because of unexpected help. A fitting parable: in the Kingdom of God, grace changes the game entirely.
Just listened to the latest episode of Spiritual Arms: Five Minutes for the Battle.
Christianity begins with a wonderful paradox: the people most ready to approach God are the ones most aware they need mercy. Like the leper who simply said, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.”
Josh reminds us that Jesus went to the Cross precisely for moments like that. In Confession, we bring Him our wounds, receive mercy, and then go back into the world carrying the love we did not deserve but were freely given.
Five minutes very well spent.
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. ❤️🔥
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.
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.

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.

from a letter dated March 5, 2026

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Of the Glenn Enterprises

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading