Truth for Souls

It’s been a few weeks since our good bishop was taken and we are continuing to suffer “firsts.” The first Friday he was not there for Friday morning Mass and adoration, when the cathedra had already been stripped of his coat of arms and looked like it had been vandalized… that was hard.  

Tomorrow is the first monthly potluck breakfast since Bishop Strickland was taken. The First Friday potluck began when Fr. Joe was pastor, but it faltered during covid. Celeste relaunched it in the Bishop’s honor last year. Tomorrow he will not be there to bless the food, move around from table to table, talking to everyone and making us laugh.  

And the biggest and hardest first is still to come, when another bishop is assigned.  

It’s inevitable that we all thought, even if just for a moment, “What’s keeping me in Tyler if the Bishop is gone?” We moved here for the Bishop, or rather, for the way the Bishop held up Christ clearly and without making our glorious Faith subservient to political nonsense. So are we staying or going?  

We’ve drawn closer to each other, more like family as we weather this storm together. If community was rated on a scale of 1 to 10, we just skipped right over a few levels, gunning for a 10. Even that is hard, though. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to get through this with grace, doesn’t want to find the good, as though it is somehow disloyal to the bishop to soldier on. If we can get along without him, does that somehow mean that he wasn’t vital to us? I felt the same way after my father died, not wanting to admit that my world could go on without him. 

And yet, we have to honor the Bishop by trying to be as good at what we do as Bishop Strickland is at what he does. That’s why we’ve loved him: he set an example for us, showing us how to be the kind of Catholics we want to be: bold and brave and true. Indeed, if we don’t take this adversity as a spur to grow in virtue and prayer and joy, we dishonor the Bishop.  

Perhaps there are some factions happier now that the Bishop is gone from Tyler. We can’t change that, but we can demonstrate what a difference a good bishop makes. Somehow in this time when up is down and good is evil, the witness of one humble bishop who won’t give up, has become something extraordinary. Anyone should be able to look at the laity of Tyler and see the reflection of our extraordinary bishop in us.  

The three things I think are most critical to his legacy (and it is purely coincidental that they are A, B and C) are adoration, believing the best, and courage.  

Adoration. In every diocese I’ve lived in before, Eucharistic Adoration was, at least publicly, a devotion of the laity. Rarely did I see a priest in adoration, except on Holy Thursday. When I did see a cleric in an Adoration chapel or at a Holy Hour, it was strangely exciting, like “Look! Our pastors are with us, we are not alone before the Lord!” It gave us assurance that our priests were Eucharistic, rather than worldly. Some priests have private chapels in their residences where they adore Jesus in seclusion, away from the eyes of the laity, but if they knew how significant it is to us, they might come to the public adoration chapels more often. Seeing a priest in adoration binds the laity to the priests in a completely unique way.  

We watched Bishop Strickland in Adoration every week before Friday morning Mass, and at many events and conferences. It is likely the supernatural source of our fierce loyalty to him. Yes, we like how friendly and approachable he is, we admire his forthrightness and willingness to suffer blows for the truth, but perhaps what binds us most powerfully to him is that he led us in Adoration; we came before God like an arrowhead, with the Bishop at the point. To watch him kneel on hard marble for an hour without flinching was to cowboy up and quit making excuses.  

The Bishop has his own Eucharistic chapel in his home, and had one in the Chancery office as well, but his willingness to humble himself before Jesus in front of us and as one of us, has reinvigorated my Eucharistic devotion. I’m named for a Eucharistic saint (Clare) and it was the Eucharist which brought me home to the Catholic Church; my adult life has been formed around the Eucharist. And yet, watching the bishop kneel before the Lord shakes me as though I’m encountering the Eucharist for the first time. It’s a heartrending picture of the Body of Christ. 

Bishop Strickland brought a “tiny adoration” into each celebration of the Mass, at the elevation of the consecrated Host. He stood for long moments in adoration, and implicitly invited us into adoration by drawing out the moment. People attending Mass with the Bishop for the first time would always remark on that, and I never stopped being moved by it. The elevation was often so prolonged that a person could lose himself in the contemplation of Christ and forget where he was. This was one of the great gifts of attending Mass with our good bishop. 

Believing the Best. Some people have criticized our bishop as being naïve. But I think it’s actually his willingness to believe the best about other people that is interpreted as naivete. He notably refuses to take offense at slights or even outright attacks, using humor and self-effacement to deflect anger.

The bishop’s openness to the potential holiness of every person colors his interactions, even on Twitter, where nastiness makes its home in the Comments sections. If you persistently see Christ in others, it’s impossible to demean or dismiss them. Mother Teresa notably practiced this attitude, and the Bishop is getting quite a good workout at it himself. 

You only have to watch the video of his remarks at the USCCB meeting in November 2018 to see what I’m talking about. He was clearly correct to bring up the elephant in the room (homosexuality at the heart of the abuse scandals) and clearly the bishops were aligned to do nothing about it, and yet the Bishop’s manner is open and you can see he still believes the bishops can do the right thing.  

 I have noticed a laissez-faire attitude on the part of the bishop, a willingness to let things take their course, with respect for the rights and duties of laypeople. I’m familiar with several situations in which laypeople disagreed, and went to the bishop for support of one side or the other. While the bishop might be willing to share his opinion on some matters, he respected the lay people enough to allow them to come to their own decisions about affairs proper to the laity. In this way, he forced us to mature in our thinking and charity as adult Christians in community. He would not play the autocratic father who settles every squabble for the children. He believed the best of us, and expected us to take up our duties as baptized Christians.  

The bishop is without guile, like Nathanael, but he’s no simpleton. He is, in fact, quite astute, the result of much reading and study taken into prayer. When Bishop Strickland infamously tweeted, “I believe Pope Francis is the Pope, but it is time for me to say that I reject his program of undermining the Deposit of Faith,” the phrasing indicated a process of thinking and considering. It was not said impetuously. His words, “it is time” show that he’d been wrestling with it for who knows how long, attempting, as we all have, to believe the best about the Pope. And then he couldn’t. That’s when courage came into play. 

Courage. Does anyone really believe that May 12 tweet was casual on the part of the Bishop, that it didn’t cost him dearly in his soul? It is in the deepest part of the Catholic heart to love and honor the successor of Peter, the vicar of Christ on earth. It’s not in our Catholic nature to not love the Pope. This pope has done violence to our souls by forcing us to admit that there is something desperately wrong in Rome. 

I believe Bishop Strickland knew the price he would pay for saying what he did, and had already accepted it before his fingers ever hit the keyboard. That is courage.  It may be the thing we most admire about the Bishop, perhaps because it is the hardest to emulate. What do we stand to lose that compares to what the Bishop lost for the sake of truth? Where does our duty lie? We are all called to discern our proper place in the fight for Truth. The Bishop has gone ahead of us. 

There will be a cost to speaking the Truth. We are already beginning to pay, with the loss of the Bishop, but we’re still early days. The Bishop is only part of the plan for which God brought us to Tyler. Courage will be demanded of us as we hold up the truth of Jesus Christ and His Church. This diocese, and indeed the world, is not going to fall back to some standard of normal without a crisis point. The fight is not going to pass us by. We must defend our Faith with the knowledge that there will be a cost, and we must have prayed our way to acceptance, the way Bishop Strickland did.  

The Bishop could do nothing other than to hold up the truth of Christ, which is for the good of the sheep. We must now conduct ourselves as worthy of the price. We must be as open and approachable as our good bishop, believing the best of others, pressing ourselves to adore the Eucharist at every opportunity, and speaking the truth with courage and love. 

We are the legacy of Bishop Strickland in Tyler, Texas. Let’s make it shine.  

All the best insights about moving forward come from the kind witness of Fr. Steven Chabarria.