A few years ago, my partner and I decided to sign up for a community garden plot near where we were living in Saint Paul, MN. With this decision came the determination to grow our plants from seed. We received seed catalogs from far and wide and poured through them. The vibrant photographs of vegetables, fruits, and flowers all gave promise of a bountiful summer and fall ahead of us. We picked out seeds and starting soil. We also gathered up empty egg cartons to start the seeds in.
I had a particular eagerness to plant the seeds immediately after they arrived in the mail. But the seed packets were clear about when and how to start them.
We counted back from our expected planting day, built in some flexibility, and settled on a weekend to plant the seeds in the growing medium. Soon, our window sills were full of cardboard egg cartons. Each section was holding damp soil and a carefully placed seed. I quickly gravitated toward caring for these seeds. Every day I would pick up the cartons, rotate them, and add water.
A little over a week later, the first green shoots emerged from the starter soil. I was elated. From within the damp soil came forth what we hoped for and expected. Over the coming days, each little egg carton section found itself with a shoot pushing upward. I became amazed at the changes. How fascinating to see and appreciate what each seed—with the help of some soil, sunlight, and water—could achieve. How fascinating to see and appreciate the conditions for life and growth to bear such fruit.
This is one of the stories I carry with me as your new Intern Minister. I am so easily delighted by the natural world and the project of seed starting brings me such immense joy. How fascinating it is to see a stem emerge and bend toward the sunlight. I believe I am so enamored with seed starting because it works. There are necessary supplies to gather and bring together. There is a way of doing things that creates a result. There is a tangible result that benefits from the labor that has come before. There is also an expected future which seed starting leads to. This is my year, as your Intern Minister, to emerge from the soil.
Like any seed or person, I arrive having been formed and also in formation. I completed my Master of Divinity degree from Boston University School of Theology this past May where I focused on interfaith leadership. One of my favorite classes was through Hebrew College where a group of seminarians and rabbinical school students gathered to learn how to talk across different religious beliefs. During the summer of 2023, I was a chaplain intern at the University of Vermont Medical Center. In that intensive program, I learned how to speak with people about difficult decisions and truths. Before seminary, I managed communications in the non-profit and higher education fields. These roles provided me the opportunity to not only create but to teach other people how to communicate, as well. I currently volunteer with Star Island, the UU summer camp, on their Board of Directors. These experiences, and so many more, have shaped how I show up with you. And you will also shape my future ministry.
Three individuals are part of my story that you will probably hear me talk a lot about. First, there is my husband Jay. We have been married for a little over a week now! Some of you had the chance to meet him at Sandy Island last weekend. He told me that some people asked him if he was also a minister or training to be a minister. He is not, but I think the question reveals the type of caring person he is. You will likely see him from time to time on Sundays, and I understand he’s been talking to Martha Durkee-Neuman about possibly teaching OWL.
Second, there is our dog French Fry. He is a chihuahua-dachsund mix. We adopted him in the fall of 2020 when we were living in Minnesota. I say that “we” adopted him, but French Fry would probably tell you that Jay adopted him. French Fry’s human of choice is Jay, and this is something I’ve come to accept. No matter the treats I provide (an endless supply of baby carrots), French Fry’s dedication to Jay is paramount. Even still, I admire this dog. He is, like most non-human creatures, unapologetically himself.
Third, there is the theologian Howard Thurman. Thurman was Dean of Marsh Chapel at Boston University starting in the 1950’s. During my first week of seminary, I found a piece of paper in my locker with a picture of him and one of his meditations on it. That introduction to his voice and philosophy led me to go deeper with him. I studied his approach to leadership, how he shaped worship services, and the great intention he brought to relationships. While he preached outside of our denomination, he had a national impact on Unitarian Universalism. During my final semester of seminary, I spent hours researching in the BU archives to understand Thurman’s connection to UUism. There I found letters depicting a rich conversation that took place for many years between Thurman and Frederick May Eliot, the then president of the American Unitarian Association. Thurman’s words provide a lot of sustenance for me, and I hope to share those with you.
So, just as a seed has a history before it is planted, I arrive in this role with a history of my own. Yet, the work of formation—a project of growth and shaping—is ongoing. I find myself in the midst of you all, a vibrant community. At Sandy Island, I was welcomed, along with my partner, with such kindness and curiosity. You have already provided the medium in which I will learn. I also know that as a seed grows it impacts the soil around it. The nutrients a seed takes are replaced with other nutrients. I hope that in my formation this year we will notice how we each impact the other.
With gratitude,
Kyle M. Belmont