I half-jokingly tell my friends that the B.Div is like a scratch card where each module completed uncovers a part of a hidden scene. The simile soon breaks down (the vista afforded by revealed truth being infinitely more beautiful and its acquisition incomparably more rewarding). Nevertheless, insofar as the image expresses heuristic satisfaction, it may be apt – for there is something compulsive about the study of theology at Maryvale.

There is a good metaphysical reason for this: the appetitive nature of ultimate truth (thank you, Year 1 Systematic Philosophy paper!) A distinctive feature of the course is that it does not pretend that its students are concerned with anything less – an attitude reflected both in its broad curriculum, aimed at a comprehensive foundation, and in its willingness to draw unapologetically on the rich heritage of the Catholic intellectual tradition, including the ‘dragon’s hoard’ which is Magisterial teaching.¹ Those seeking intellectual and spiritual adventure need not be concerned: searching essay questions, rigorous academic standards and unlimited reading lists are the norm (the B.Div is emphatically not ‘simply catechesis’). Crucially, however, the syllabus understands that the organic whole of Christian theology cannot be apprehended piecemeal but requires a solid foundation and patient, systematic acquisition. The modules are therefore broad and deep and carefully arranged to ensure that each topic builds on the last.

Another, more properly theological, analogy suggests itself here: Saint Irenaeus’ image of the mosaic of Christ pieced together from Scripture as read in line with the rule of truth. With each fresh insight gained, the vision of the whole gradually emerges and sharpens, revealing the bejewelled and beautiful “image of the King”.² This image not only conveys the beauty and truth of theology’s object, but also implies its power to transform. Since love deepens the better the object of love is known, it is inevitable that the B.Div student’s faith will grow prodigiously (certainly my experience) over the course of the degree.³

Training in history, philosophy and fundamental theology provides tools for grasping and rejecting what is defective in secular ideas about humanity, God, and revelation. The thrilling discovery is made that the rational arguments for the faith are far more expansive and compelling than post-Enlightenment consensus typically allows. At the same time, the Christ-centred humanism which emerges from the storehouse of tradition, and which understands the divine origin and destiny of man, appears strikingly more noble than its atheistic alternatives. With study of Scripture, doctrine, and moral life in Christ, comes a new appreciation and appropriation of grace, virtue, of the Church’s mission, and of the liturgy as the centre of devotional life and well-spring of satisfaction.

The fresh confidence and new sense of possibility which follow these discoveries also derive from the student’s participation in Maryvale’s community life. On the one hand, the institute is ‘plugged in’ to the universal Church. This is manifest both at the institutional level through Maryvale’s international collaboration and Pontifical recognition, and in the diversity of ages, cultures, educational and denominational backgrounds of the student body (there were 6 nationalities represented in my first year, with students dialling in to classes from multiple time zones). At the same time, as heirs to Saint John Henry Newman’s ideal of a laity who “know their creed so well that they can give an account of it”, students and teachers alike are part of a mission which is historically and geographically particular – one which exists in direct continuity with the renewal Newman termed England’s ‘second Spring’.⁴ Unity of purpose and a shared sense of being ‘part of something bigger’ are powerfully encouraging and are reflected both in a high degree of student collaboration (regular informal study ‘Zooms’ to discuss essay ideas, for example) and a staff body who are invested in the spiritual and emotional well-being of their students.

More prosaically, academic skills also grow. When asked to tackle an essay question that could easily fill a book, it is tempting to feel overwhelmed. But as one patient Maryvale teacher explained to me, before building a cathedral you first need to be able to build a good wall: learning the art of identifying and selecting the units of knowledge necessary to construct a good essay structure is (painful but) part of the point. Alongside the very English art of essay writing, Maryvale students also benefit from practising Continental-style oral exam technique courtesy of its French university affiliation (there’s nothing like the prospect of giving an account of yourself in person to make you thoroughly internalise your material). ‘Doctrinal themes’ (my favourite) encourage you to deep-dive into discrete, narrowly focussed doctrinal topics and consider them from all angles: these are as much an exercise in contemplative prayer as in academic writing.

I have yet to experience my final year dissertation, but I am aware from those who have gone before me that this will be an opportunity to draw on everything I have learnt and synthesise it with a very personal research project supervised by an expert in the chosen field of study. I won’t lie: the B.Div involves quite a lot more work than rubbing out a scratch card. But then again, it’s quite a lot more rewarding than winning the lottery.

Claire Kokelaar is a student on Maryvale's Bachelor of Divinity programme.

Notes

1. By applying Anthony Esolen’s image of a “sleeping dragon, snoring on top of his hoard of gold” to Church teaching, Tracey Rowland hopes to encourage theology students to claim their intellectual patrimony; Tracey Rowland, Catholic Theology (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2017), 12.

2. St Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 1.8.1.

3. “Let no one say, I do not know what I love”; St Augustine, On the Trinity, 8.8.12.

4. St John Henry Newman, The Present Position of Catholics in England: Addressed to the Brothers of the Oratory (London: Burns & Lambert, 1851), 45; The Second Spring: A Sermon (New York: Longmans, Green and Co., 1911), 15.