Primers are usually small books that introduce basic concepts. Queer Theology looks to be that, with the added virtue that Linn Marie Tonstad makes her own contribution while explaining the foundations of a growing theological subspecialty.
In five synthetic chapters, she lays out the basics of queer theology in relation to the Christian tradition, makes the case that it has to be more than apologetics, queries the queer, links sex with money, and sketches out the contours of possible next moves in this rapidly evolving field. The bibliography is useful and the suggested further reading section gives this the appearance of an introductory text.
Tonstad lifts up “denaturalization” and “anti-essentialism” as the foundations, or what she calls “starting points” (70) for queer work in religion. The former is a move to eliminate the gender binaries that reify outmoded categories of sex and gender to which Christian apologists are wedded. The latter is a postmodern truism. Taken together, she claims that they point toward the “continued processes” (70) that create our perceptions and affirmations of reality.
This clear delineation of her starting point sets the parameters of her analysis. She wastes no words on discredited approaches that plague many denomination-based documents. The Vatican Congregation for Catholic Education's recent statement “Male and Female He Created Them: For a Path of Dialogue on the Issue of Gender in Education” is a classic example of why Tonstad's work is so necessary.
Her well-developed definition of gender (58) is pedologically useful. “Gender is not the expression of one's core being, anatomically determined and culturally expressed. Rather, gender expresses the way we are read and interpreted by others, the way signs of gender mark our bodies, our movements, our behaviors, our clothes. We understand gender because we have seen others do gender, and ourselves learn to do gender in the same way.”
Tonstad explores the work of Argentine queer theologian Marcella Althaus-Reid, who combined Latin American liberation theological insights with her own brand of queer studies in religion. Poor women's lives are the bottom line—what helps them is good, what impedes their full humanity is not. “Orgies” operate as a provocative metaphor for discussion of the deep nexus among sex, religion, and money. That compelling combination of factors is the value-added in this volume. Focus on economics elevates Tonstad's study from an overview of contested territory to a constructive work. She offers new insights into how sex/gender “work” in daily life in varied settings, most often unjustly toward those who are marginalized due to race, age, economics, and the like.
The future of queer theology remains to be seen. Surely, ecological connections will emerge as she indicated, citing the work of Jacob J. Erickson. The arts play a signal role in grounding queer everything. But queer is not just difference, or, as Althaus-Reid would have it, “oddity.” Rather, Tonstad posits that “queer is a praxis, a project—not a state of affairs, nor a state of being or practical achievement” (129). Queer acts.
The arguments are challenging and the possibilities enticing. However, I would not consider this book a primer after all. It is too complex, at points elliptical beyond the capacity of most readers coming fresh to the field. I would recommend it for more advanced scholars who can engage more readily with the nuanced arguments. They, and not the typical undergraduate, will find it challenging and rewarding.
