“I resonate with Paul Tillich’s conception of religion as dealing with the ‘ultimate concern.’ Religion, for me, is a way of harnessing that which we are all ultimately concerned with, in both a tangible sense and a metaphysical one. In other words, we all have an inclination toward fulfillment, and it is necessary for us to feel meaningfully connected with our own life and community, whether or not we believe one thing over another.”
Rachel Mallett is a first-year master of divinity student, coming to Harvard Divinity School from Sarasota, Florida, and the College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts. After studying philosophy and political science, she is looking forward to discovering how studying religion and personally uncovering a deeper religious identity will intersect beyond HDS.
A Taste of the MDiv at Harvard Divinity School
Entering into my second semester in the master of divinity program, I have a lot of Harvard Divinity School ahead of me. Last semester I spent time exploring the “loneliness epidemic,” church decline, and the dualism between the sacred and the secular. Thinkers like Paul Tillich, William James, Charles Taylor, James Cone, and Cornel West have caught my eye as mediators between the spiritual and the religious, and the universals that inform living in a contemporary world.
I have found HDS to be a place where I can pursue several different topics that interest me in ways that are not always congruent with one another. I studied the blues in fall 2023 in my theopoetics class with Visiting Professor Raymond Carr, while simultaneously exploring American pragmatism in Professor of Philosophy and Theology David Lamberth’s philosophy course. The intersections between varied interests like these usually follow in unexpected ways. However, I expect that much of what I study will synthesize in more coherent ways as I further progress through the program, or even after I graduate.
My philosophy is to explore the traditions, people, questions, and books I am drawn to, because I have a strong sense that there is an underlying way they are all relevant and important to my life. For someone that is less aware of how I can best engage with the world after leaving HDS, I take a lot of comfort in the idea that it will become increasingly clear as I pursue the things that ignite a sense of passion, care, and excitement.
Religious Home Base
As for my religious background, I come from the Presbyterian Church, in the PCUSA tradition, and Church of the Palms, in Sarasota, is what I consider to be my religious “home base.” As fickle as “belief” can be, religion can do something real and tangible for people when religious communities are cognizant and careful with the influence it has on the more existential and vulnerable aspects of someone’s life.
In my experience, by regularly participating in my religious community growing up, I feel as though I was raised in an environment where interconnectedness, selflessness, and asking questions were necessary parts of a rich life. This was a valuable lifeline in my childhood, as I was suffering the loss of my mom at age 4. My dad was very wise to recognize the need for it, as a single father, raising me in Florida after moving away from our family in New England.
I was surrounded by people who cared deeply for the ways I was making sense of the world, as I coped with the loss of my mother to suicide. Their empathy gave me opportunities to both reflect on this reality of my life, when I needed it, as well as step outside of myself, when it was more important that I recognize I am one thread in a larger tapestry of threads.
I resonate with Paul Tillich’s conception of religion as dealing with the “ultimate concern.” Religion, for me, is a way of harnessing that which we are all ultimately concerned with, in both a tangible sense and a metaphysical one. In other words, we all have an inclination toward fulfillment and it is necessary for us to feel meaningfully connected with our own life and community, whether or not we believe one thing over another.
Finding Coherence Across Religious Inclinations and Questions
I moved to Worcester, Massachusetts, for undergrad, attending the College of the Holy Cross, a small, Jesuit, liberal arts college. During my time in Worcester, I worked in a number of religious spaces. I was the student director, for a time, for the interdenominational worship service at school, which was a resource for non-Catholic students, particularly those who identified as Protestant Christians. It became entirely student-run during the pandemic, and it allowed us to identify what it is we all equally valued in sacred spaces.
During the summers, I interned for a larger nondenominational church and a smaller Episcopal congregation. The former brought me into the centerfold of a style of church that is playing an interesting role in modern religious trends in the United States, and although I found myself disagreeing with particular priorities, I valued the first-hand experience. The latter allowed me to work closely with an Episcopal priest, who is an alum of Harvard Divinity School, the Rev. Dave Woessner. I came to understand the versatility and intentionality of that role, not only within a congregation, but in the surrounding community.
Thanks to that particular experience, I have become very fond of contemplative practices in both the Christian and Buddhist traditions in recent years. After being introduced to both Centering Prayer and Samatha Meditation, it allows me to let go of the pressure we place on belief and words to explore the side of the “ultimate concern” that I often struggle to name or capture.
Growing up, I had really strong inclinations to pursue ordination as a reverend in the Presbyterian Church. I loved people, public speaking was a huge passion of mine, community-building felt very intuitive to me, and my lens for cultivating meaning in my life was very much from a Christian framework. I even preached for the first time when I was 14. I still have these affinities; however, in working in church environments for many years, I have become acutely aware of how holistic the responsibilities are. It is a role that is best held when the whole self is committed to it.
I think if I can effectively find pathways between the sacred and the secular, especially as the religious and political landscapes continue to evolve in the U.S., I could take up the vocation more seriously again. For now, I am appreciating the more academic side of something that has been removed from my academics prior to writing my senior thesis at Holy Cross and my time here at HDS. However, inadvertently, exposure to traditions I am unfamiliar with and getting to know others who are also working to understand their own religious backgrounds, questions, and values is more passively shaping my spiritual life, in a way that grounds me outside of academics, as I take up this new area of study.
Deciding on HDS
When it came time to begin looking into seminaries and divinity schools, I was confronted with the idea of committing myself to a vocation in the church. I realized that I had many unaddressed questions and other interests I was not yet ready to put on the back burner. Once it became apparent that HDS was a sweet spot where I could explore my academic interests as seriously as my practical, vocational ones, I was taken with it. Of course, there are other institutions that set out to do this, but it was also necessary that personal formation and community were just as valuable.
However, living in Boston is expensive and I had concerns that I just couldn’t swing it while in school full time. In fact, being here likely wouldn’t have been feasible without the financial help of Church of the Palms. Thanks to their grant, and the year I spent working here in Boston as a paralegal, being an HDS student was something I could realistically commit myself to. It was important for me that this experience was one I could immerse myself in.
Knowing and Connecting with Others
As of last fall, working for the HDS Office of Communications as a news correspondent has been an exciting development as well. I have always loved people and listening to their stories. In fact, I do not think it is possible for any person to be considered boring; one just needs to be asked the right questions, ones that draw out a person’s genuine motivations, interests, and relevant experiences.
Two of my favorite podcasts, The Moth and This American Life, are such wonderful examples of how fascinating people can be when merely given the time and attention to share honestly and without judgment. Now, being in the position of sharing the stories of the HDS community, I have been given the new thrill of getting to know those around me here at school in a more meaningful way than I expected. It has been especially fruitful in a community of individuals with as many varying traditions, backgrounds, and stages of life as are represented here.
It is almost too distracting at HDS sometimes. I often prefer chatting in the Commons before class over squeezing in extra time to read. In fact, I have become increasingly aware of my affinity for connecting with and meeting other people since the start of my time here.
Gratitude Informing What’s Ahead
In essence, this experience and place is very unique, and I am in a very privileged position to have these three years to study, live, and grow here. This is genuinely felt because I have come to be both admitted and enrolled here not by my own accord. The people from my church back home, my dad, my mentors, and my friends care about me in a way that is as far removed from transactional as you can get. The reason I am here is the reason I care so much about community, getting to know others, and theorizing ways we can live more interdependently. It is my hope that the practicality of this becomes clearer the more I continue to learn and the more I engage selflessly with this community and with the opportunities it provides.