The Silent Shepherds: Bishop Strickland's Cry in the Wilderness and the Fractured Voice of the American EpiscopateIn the grand halls of the Marriott Waterfront Hotel in Baltimore, where the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) convened its fall general assembly on November 11-14, 2025, a moment unfolded that encapsulated the profound tensions roiling within the Catholic Church in America. Bishop Joseph Strickland, the emeritus bishop of Tyler, Texas—removed from his see by Pope Francis in 2023 for his unyielding fidelity to traditional doctrine—rose to speak. His voice, steady yet laced with urgency, cut through the chamber as he addressed a scandal that had ignited fury among faithful Catholics: the recent confirmation of ABC news anchor Gio Benitez, who lives openly in a same-sex "marriage," overseen by none other than the prominent Jesuit priest Fr. James Martin, SJ. Strickland's intervention lasted barely 47 seconds, a fleeting plea for his brother bishops to confront this public defiance of Church teaching. But in a scene that will haunt the annals of ecclesiastical history, his words were met not with debate, not with affirmation, not even with rebuke—but with silence. The chair moved swiftly to the next agenda item, as if the emperor's new clothes had never been mentioned at all.
This was no isolated slight. It was the latest chapter in a saga of marginalization for Strickland, a bishop who has become a lightning rod for those yearning for doctrinal clarity amid a sea of ambiguity. His brief remarks—"I don't know how many of us have seen on social media... Priests and others gathered, celebrating the confirmation of a man living with a man openly. And it just needs to be addressed... We need to address this"—echoed the frustrations of countless laity who see in such events not pastoral outreach, but a betrayal of the sacred deposit of faith. The confirmation rite, held in New York under the auspices of Cardinal Timothy Dolan, featured Fr. Martin alongside the pastor, Fr. Eric Andrews, a Paulist priest, administering the sacrament to Benitez in what appeared to be a jubilant affirmation of his lifestyle. Social media footage showed the group posing triumphantly before the Blessed Sacrament, a visual that struck many as a mockery of the very Eucharist it purported to honor.
Strickland's courage in naming this elephant in the room—Fr. Martin's role in what he and others perceive as a normalization of grave sin—deserves not just admiration, but emulation. Yet, his brother bishops, ensconced in their collars and crosiers, chose the path of least resistance: indifference. This is not mere oversight; it is a symptom of a deeper malaise, a disconnect between the shepherds and the immutable teachings of the Church they are sworn to guard. In an era when the world clamors for the Church to bend to cultural winds, moments like this reveal a hierarchy adrift, torn between the timeless truth of Christ and the fleeting applause of modernity. This blog post delves into that chasm, exploring the event itself, the unyielding doctrine it contravenes, the figure of Fr. Martin at its epicenter, and the cognitive dissonance that plagues the faithful. At its heart lies a simple truth: Bishop Strickland was not just brave; he was right. And in ignoring him, the USCCB has ignored not only him, but the voice of the Church eternal.
The Incident: A Confirmation That Confounds the Faithful
To understand the gravity of Strickland's intervention, one must first grasp the provocation. Gio Benitez, a well-known face on Good Morning America, entered the Catholic Church through a rite of confirmation on All Saints' Day, November 1, 2025, at St. Paul the Apostle Church in Manhattan. The ceremony was no quiet affair; it was livestreamed and shared widely, drawing cheers from progressive Catholic circles and outrage from traditionalists. Benitez, married to his husband since 2022, received the sacrament from Fr. Andrews, with Fr. James Martin—perhaps the most visible advocate for LGBTQ+ inclusion in the American Church—present and participating in the celebration. The group, including Martin, later received Holy Communion, posing for photos that framed the moment as a triumph of "inclusion."
For Catholics steeped in the faith, this was seismic. Confirmation is not a mere formality; it is a sacrament that seals the Christian with the Holy Spirit, strengthening them for witness to the Gospel. To administer it to someone in a public state of objective mortal sin—living in a same-sex union that the Church deems gravely disordered—without any apparent call to repentance, strikes at the core of sacramental integrity. Canon Law is unequivocal: those who obstinately persist in manifest grave sin may not be admitted to the sacraments (Canon 915). Yet here, in the heart of Dolan's archdiocese, the rite proceeded, blessed by priests who have made inclusion their banner.
Bishop Strickland, attending the USCCB meeting as a bishop emeritus with full rights to speak, could no longer hold his peace. During a discussion on pastoral priorities, he seized the floor. His words were measured, almost plaintive: a reference to the viral images, a nod to the priests involved, and a direct challenge: "We need to address this." The chamber fell quiet. No bishop rose in support. No one invoked doctrine. Instead, Bishop James Massa interjected with an "infomercial" about a faith and science symposium, and Archbishop Timothy Broglio, presiding, pivoted seamlessly to immigration messaging. It was as if Strickland had spoken in tongues.
This snub was not lost on observers. Social media erupted, with faithful Catholics decrying the "cowardice" of the assembly. "Bishop Strickland is the only one with a spine," tweeted one prominent lay commentator. Videos of the moment spread like wildfire, amassing millions of views and fueling podcasts, articles, and homilies across the traditional Catholic world. For many, it recalled Strickland's earlier prophetic stands: his 2018 USCCB floor speech questioning why bishops allowed priests to contradict Church teaching on homosexuality (widely seen as aimed at Martin), or his 2023 removal by Pope Francis after years of outspoken criticism of perceived heterodoxy. In Baltimore, history repeated, but with a crueler twist—the lone voice silenced not by expulsion, but by erasure.
Why did this happen? The answer lies in the uncomfortable reality of episcopal collegiality in crisis. The USCCB, meant to be a synod of successors to the apostles, has increasingly functioned as a bureaucratic machine, prioritizing consensus over confrontation. To address the Benitez confirmation would mean scrutinizing Dolan's oversight, Martin's influence, and the broader drift toward accommodation. Easier to let it slide, to focus on safer topics like synodality or climate. But in doing so, the bishops forfeit their mandate. As St. Augustine warned, "Bad shepherds drive out the flock." And the flock is watching, wounded and wandering.
The Church's Unchanging Teaching: A Rock Amid Shifting Sands
At the root of this scandal is a fundamental rupture: the chasm between eternal doctrine and ephemeral practice. The Catholic Church has spoken with crystalline clarity on homosexuality for millennia, rooted in Scripture, Tradition, and natural law. Homosexual acts are not a matter of opinion or cultural evolution; they are "intrinsically disordered," a phrase that, while jarring to modern ears, encapsulates a profound anthropological truth.
The foundational text is the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC), promulgated by St. John Paul II in 1992 and reaffirmed under subsequent pontiffs. Paragraph 2357 states: "Basing itself on Sacred Scripture, which presents homosexual acts as acts of grave depravity, tradition has always declared that 'homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered.' They are contrary to the natural law. They close the sexual act to the gift of life. They do not proceed from a genuine affective and sexual complementarity. Under no circumstances can they be approved." This is no innovation; it echoes the Bible's witness—from the destruction of Sodom (Genesis 19:1-11) to St. Paul's condemnation of same-sex relations as contrary to God's design (Romans 1:24-27; 1 Corinthians 6:9-10; 1 Timothy 1:10).
Earlier magisterial documents reinforce this. The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith's 1975 Declaration on Certain Questions Concerning Sexual Ethics (Persona Humana) affirms that "homosexual activity is not a complementary union" but "deprives human sexuality of its essential subordination to the welfare of the children." The 1986 Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church on the Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons (On the Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons) doubles down: "Although the particular inclination of the homosexual person is not a sin, it is a more or less strong tendency ordered toward an intrinsic moral evil; and thus the inclination itself must be seen as objectively disordered." These acts, it warns, "can never be approved" and lead to a "grave depravity."
Even Pope Francis, often caricatured as a revolutionary, upholds this in Amoris Laetitia (2016), paragraph 250: "The Church furthermore affirms that unions between people of the same sex cannot be considered on the same footing as matrimony between man and woman." His 2023 response to the dubia of five cardinals reiterated that the Church cannot bless "irregular" unions, as blessings presuppose alignment with God's will. The 2021 Responsa ad dubia from the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith clarified that blessings for same-sex couples must not resemble sacramental rites, lest they imply approval.
This teaching is not born of animus but of a vision of human flourishing: sexuality as a divine gift ordered to spousal love and procreation, mirroring the Trinity's self-giving communion. To call it "disordered" is to say it deviates from this telos, much as a misfiring engine deviates from its purpose. Persons with same-sex attraction—whom the Church calls to chastity and respect (CCC 2358-2359)—are not condemned but invited to heroic virtue, uniting their trials to Christ's cross. Yet, when sacraments are administered without repentance, this merciful call becomes a snare.
The Benitez confirmation flouts this. By confirming a man in a public same-sex union, the rite implicitly endorses the union as consonant with faith—a contradiction in terms. Strickland's plea was a defense of this doctrine, urging bishops to reaffirm what the Church has always taught. Their silence? A tacit permission for confusion.
Fr. James Martin: Bridge-Builder or Demolisher?
No figure embodies this disconnect more than Fr. James Martin, SJ, whose ministry has made him a celebrity in Catholic and secular media alike. Ordained in 1999, Martin rose through Jesuit ranks as a writer and editor for America magazine, blending humor, social justice, and a folksy style that endeared him to many. But it was his 2017 book Building a Bridge: How the Catholic Church and the LGBT Community Can Enter into a Relationship of Respect, Compassion, and Sensitivity that catapulted him to prominence—and controversy. The tome, inspired by Pope Francis's "Who am I to judge?" remark, calls for dialogue, using language from CCC 2358 to advocate "respect, compassion, and sensitivity." Yet, critics argue, it omits the crucial caveats: the intrinsic disorder of acts and the call to chastity.
Martin's influence peaked under Francis, who appointed him a Vatican communications consultant in 2017. He has keynoted synods, advised on LGBTQ+ outreach, and amassed over 300,000 Twitter followers. His Outreach initiative, launched in 2022 under the Jesuit conference, aims to support LGBTQ+ Catholics, hosting conferences with speakers like Bishop John Stowe and Sr. Jeannine Gramick—figures who have faced Vatican scrutiny for blurring doctrinal lines.
In the Benitez case, Martin's presence was emblematic. Photos show him beaming alongside the confirmand, his social media posts framing the event as a "joyful" milestone. For supporters, this is mercy incarnate; for detractors, it's a sleight of hand, elevating accompaniment over conversion. Strickland has long targeted Martin: In 2018, at the USCCB, he decried bishops hosting priests who "do not believe" the Church's teaching on homosexuality. In 2021, he urged Martin to preach the "full message" at an LGBTQ+ retreat. And in 2023, post-removal, Strickland called Martin's Pride Month tweets "sacrilegious."
Martin's defenders decry this as homophobia, but the charge rings hollow. Strickland affirms the dignity of all, including those with same-sex attraction. His ire is for Martin's selective catechesis: emphasizing welcome while eliding sin and repentance. This is no minor omission; it fosters the very scandal that drove McCarrick's downfall and the abuse crisis. When a priest like Martin—blessed with platforms denied to most—presents homosexual unions as normative, he sows seeds of heresy. The Church's documents demand more: truth in love (Ephesians 4:15).
Martin's arc mirrors the broader progressive wing: earnest intent, but at the cost of fidelity. His bridge, intended to span divides, has become a ramp to relativism, where doctrine dissolves into dialogue. Strickland's confrontation was a call to rebuild on rock, not sand.
The Great Disconnect: Bishops Adrift from the Barque of Peter
The USCCB's silence on Strickland's plea reveals a profound disconnect: bishops, ordained to teach, sanctify, and govern, increasingly prioritize image over integrity. This is not new—recall the 2018 Pennsylvania grand jury report exposing abuse cover-ups, or the McCarrick scandal that implicated the hierarchy's complicity. Yet, on homosexuality, the fracture is acute. While laity polls show 60-70% of U.S. Catholics support same-sex "marriage" (Pew, 2023), the Magisterium stands firm. Bishops, caught between Gallup and the Gospel, opt for ambiguity.
Consider the landscape: Progressive prelates like Cardinals Cupich and McElroy push "inclusion" initiatives, hosting LGBTQ+ Masses that skirt canonical boundaries. Traditional voices like Strickland or Bishop Thomas Paprocki issue clarion calls, only to be sidelined. The 2021-2024 Synod on Synodality amplified this, with U.S. reports urging "LGBTQ+ inclusion" without doctrinal qualifiers. Meanwhile, Vatican documents like Fiducia Supplicans (2023) permit non-liturgical blessings for couples—promptly twisted to "bless" unions, despite clarifications.
This disconnect breeds hypocrisy. Bishops decry abortion (rightly) but hesitate on sodomy; they champion migrants but ignore the spiritual peril of unchaste unions. The result? A Church that preaches justice abroad while tolerating injustice at home. As the 1986 CDF letter warned, "Special concern and pastoral attention should be directed toward those who promote an unacceptable concept of the homosexual person and homosexual union."
Strickland embodies the alternative: a bishop who, like Athanasius contra mundum, stands alone if need be. His 2024 open letter outside the USCCB—"What will it take for more than a few bishops to finally speak up?"—echoes this. Removed for "reckless" criticism, he remains a bishop, his pectoral cross a symbol of undimmed authority.
Cognitive Dissonance: The Faithful in Turmoil
For the average Catholic, this is no abstract debate—it's existential agony. We are taught in catechism class, confirmed in youth group, that homosexuality is intrinsically disordered, acts gravely sinful. Yet, Sunday homilies laud "love is love," and Fr. Martin tweets rainbows over the Sacred Heart. Parishes host "Pride" events; schools fly flags contradicting Persona Humana. The dissonance is deafening: How can the Church that birthed saints like Catherine of Siena now bless what it once condemned?
This hypocrisy erodes trust. A 2024 CARA study found 40% of young Catholics view the Church as "unwelcoming" to LGBTQ+ persons—not for doctrine, but for perceived judgment. Yet, the real wound is inversion: doctrine becomes "hate," mercy "license." Faithful families grapple: How to affirm a child's dignity while upholding truth? Converts like Benitez enter amid fanfare, but without the full Gospel, they risk eternal peril.
Psychologically, it's trauma. Cognitive dissonance theory (Festinger, 1957) explains the strain: conflicting beliefs breed anxiety, resolved by rationalization or rejection. Many resolve by leaving—U.S. Catholic retention hovers at 30% (Georgetown, 2023). Others cling, like the 200 who rallied with Strickland in 2023, praying rosaries outside the Marriott.
The hypocrisy peaks in sacraments: Confirmation for the unrepentant, Communion for the "married" gay man. This isn't inclusion; it's profanation, echoing Judas's kiss.
Bishop Strickland: Prophet in Exile
Amid this fog, Bishop Strickland shines. Born in 1958 in Texas, ordained in 1985, he shepherded Tyler for 14 years with zeal: building schools, fostering vocations, tweeting truth bombs. His 2023 removal—after backing Vigano's accusations and decrying "false messages" from Rome—made him a martyr for orthodoxy. Yet, he persists: leading rosaries, writing letters, confronting at USCCB.
In Baltimore 2025, his 47 seconds were prophetic, echoing Elijah's solitude (1 Kings 19). Brave? Undeniably—he risked further isolation. Right? Absolutely, as canonists note: such confirmations demand investigation. His fidelity honors the apostles' charge: "Guard what has been entrusted to you" (1 Timothy 6:20).
Strickland's example calls all: laity to pray, priests to preach, bishops to lead. As he told LifeSite in 2021, "It's not 'my truth' but Jesus'."
A Call to Renewal: Rebuilding on the Rock
The USCCB's silence is a clarion call for renewal. Bishops must reclaim their voice, enforcing canon law with charity. Pope Francis's call for "synodality" demands listening—to doctrine first. Laity, emboldened by Strickland, must demand accountability: petitions, rallies, faithful voting.
Ultimately, hope lies in Christ, who promised the gates of hell shall not prevail (Matthew 16:18). The Church is holy, not despite sinners, but through them—purified in fire. May Strickland's cry awaken sleeping shepherds, mending the disconnect, healing dissonance, restoring hypocrisy to humility.
In the words of St. John Henry Newman: "To live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often." But change without truth is chaos. Let us pray for bishops who change the world by unchanging fidelity.
References
- Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Edition (Vatican: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1997), paragraphs 2357-2359.
- Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Persona Humana: Declaration on Certain Questions Concerning Sexual Ethics (Vatican, December 29, 1975).
- Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, On the Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons (Vatican, October 1, 1986).
- Pope Francis, Amoris Laetitia (Vatican, March 19, 2016), paragraph 250.
- Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, Responsa ad dubia on the blessing of same-sex unions (Vatican, October 21, 2021).
- United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Fall General Assembly Minutes, Baltimore, MD, November 11-14, 2025 (unofficial transcripts from attendee reports).
- Catholic News Agency, "Ousted Bishop Strickland Leads Rosary Outside USCCB Meeting," November 13, 2025.
- LifeSiteNews, "Bishop Strickland Stands Up at USCCB: Calls Out Fr. James Martin," November 12, 2025.
- Michael Haynes, Twitter post, November 12, 2025.
- AKA Catholic, "Where Have All the Heroes Gone?" November 13, 2025.
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