September 5, 2025

HTML Teresa's Note - September 5, 2025
͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌     ͏ ‌    ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­

Dear friends and members of University UMC:


In a recent worship service, I prayed these words in the pastoral prayer: “We come to you with raw honesty, God. Because some days we try to do good and we try to do justice, but it seems we’re up against too much.” The prayer followed a week with another school shooting and the passing of Texas Senate Bill 8–restricting bathroom use in government-owned buildings, public schools, and universities based on sex assigned at birth. After worship, a few people told me they felt seen as I prayed about being “up against so much!” It is understandable for us to think our small acts of love and mercy are inadequate when we are surrounded by loud voices that are fearful of diversity and when we are overwhelmed by the reality of violence.


As I sit to write this morning, I find comfort in turning to the good words of gifted writers. You’ll find here a poem by storyteller John Roedel. I came across this poem, “Whenever I Feel Helpless,” months ago, and tucked it away to bring out again from time to time. Today seemed a good time to reread his good words. I hope you’ll also keep his poem tucked away and return to it someday when you have need.


You’ll also find a prayer by Cole Arthur Riley in her beautiful book entitled “Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations for Staying Human”. This prayer for Queer Bodies was selected in response to SB8. I hope you find it a balm. Pass it long to those you know who could use a word of comfort. 


With all that is swirling about in the airwaves, I find our work at University UMC more and more relevant. Through worship that lifts our spirits, programs that build relationships, and ministries that reach out with compassion to our neighbors, we discover and experience glimpses of the world about which we dream. I am grateful for you. And I look forward to seeing you in worship as we begin a new sermon series entitled “Created for Community.” Sunday, we’ll also break bread with one another as we celebrate the sacrament of Holy Communion. We’ll remember that as Christ welcomes us to the table, He also calls us into a relationship with one another for the work of service.


What a joy to be your pastor!

Teresa

Photo by Luigi Boccardo

Italian writer and film director Luciano De Crescenzo once said, “Siamo angeli con un’ala soltanto e possiamo volare solo restando abbracciati.” which translates, “We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.”

Whenever I Feel Helpless

by John Roedel


whenever I feel helpless
in this overwhelming world
I become a helper


oh, oh,
my love
on the days
when it feels like
I have no power
I serve others


you see,
whenever I wash
the world’s feet
my hands
immediately
stop shaking

Prayer for Queer Bodies

by Cole Arthur Riley


Strange God,


Thank you for reminding us it is okay to be incomprehensible - to be creatures of mystery and fluidity. Be near to us as we grieve the ways we’ve been pressured to conform to who others wish us to be. Renew us as we resist the temptation to perform an embodiment that isn't true to us. But help us to have compassion for ourselves when it seems as if enacting a charade is the only way to be safe and loved. Grant us an interior clarity that is unwavering in the face of transphobia and homophobia, that we might withstand every critique and dismissal, the overt and passive-aggressive. Help us to travel into those stories of feeling alienated in our own bodies and return back to ourselves with dignity crying out from every bone.


We reject the lie that our bodies are bad. We rebuke the lie that we are dirty. And we honor our truest voice, our self-knowledge as central to our own making and remaking. Against hope, we have found a way to hear the truth of us amid the vitriol of this world. May these queer bodies be a beacon to a world in bondage to its own binaries; may our flesh liberate the world into embodied attunement. Amen.

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August 29, 2025