When one opens a Eugene Rogers book, the expectation is for an exhilarating ride, and this book is no exception. It takes the reader across disciplines, continents and time periods with high energy and anticipation. Who would have thought that a book about blood – albeit Christ's blood – could be a hard to put down read. It is exactly that, not simply because it is perhaps the first extended study of this important and central topic in Christianity, but because it sets out to queer the topic—to make it strange. The book certainly does that, and in so doing can provoke as well as amaze and perhaps at times confuse – but that is the point, I think. Rogers does not write this book by presenting a linear systematic analysis or reflection on the topic, but rather by offering the reader what can appear to be disjointed parts of an argument moving from social to cultural, religious studies to theology and cosmology to biology. After the initial, ‘What is he doing now?’, one gets propelled, through this queer approach, into a deeper understanding of the significance of blood within culture, nature and religion. Rogers demonstrates how blood, either real or symbolic, forms part of many discourses ranging from sacrifice, torture and eucharist to racism and, strangely, to same-sex relationships. His purpose in this work is to investigate how blood has been used within religions, and how this use has created lines and boundaries. Further, is it possible to ‘rechannel this dangerous fluid’ (p. 36) and develop new understandings without leaving blood aside – which the author does not wish to do.

Rogers points out blood does not belong in some of the religious discourses that seem to rely on it for their unfolding. It will be a surprise to many that he claims the crucifixion would not have been a very bloody affair as it actually suffocates its victims. So why so much emphasis on the blood of Jesus, and the insistence by many branches of Christianity that there can be no forgiveness of sin without blood? Rogers takes the reader on an expedition into the background of sacrifice in the Hebrew Bible (with an emphasis on Leviticus) in order to place Christian understanding within context. His exploration is too in-depth to repeat here, but some fascinating insights are made – the most striking for me being that Leviticus understands blood as life and not simply death (Lev 17:11); as such, it is life and not death that conveys atonement. In characteristic style Rogers says that the blood daubed on the horns on the Levitical altar acts as ‘ritual detergent’, and he claims it has secular meaning rather than the exclusively sacred meaning conveyed by the way in which pouring out blood is so often referred to in the New Testament.

An interesting comment relates to the way in which blood acts as a means of social cohesion, and symbolic blood acts more effectively than real blood in many cases. Along with Robert Parker (commenting on Greek religion), the author agrees that religion takes over natural processes through ritual, and that when the real and the symbolic clash, it is the symbolic meaning that is accepted over the real (p. 12). There is so much to say about blood – who knew! – but the social cohesion aspect works through eucharist, war, blood purity and more – its symbolic meaning both includes and excludes.

Rogers makes me think again about virgin birth, which as a feminist theologian I had long ago dismissed for the damage it has done and does to real flesh and blood women. Within the context of his consideration of blood purity (which, as he demonstrates, has been used against Jews and others by Christians), he is, I would say, amused to remind the reader that the only blood is Jesus's veins was that of his Jewish mother – so Jewish blood from beginning to end. This is just one example of the strange turn that actually demolishes many prejudices that are held and have been held by Christians.

When considering how the eucharist causes salvation in chapter 8, Rogers takes the reader on a wide and varying tour, from showing how the eucharist has been viewed as medicinal (since the works of love are done through the body which needs to be fully functioning to complete them) to what he sees as a rather sexual description by Anselm (who says the way we receive Christ is not in the mind but through the mouth). Further ponderings were stirred by a visit to Borneo, where on seeing primates and hearing our closeness to them, Rogers ponders whether God's becoming entails also becoming a primate. Rogers notes this plunged him deep into the theology of the incarnation and not just the jungle. Aware of work on primate politics, which has shown that scapegoating practices reduce the level of glucocorticords in the blood and so helps primate leaders to keep the peace, he ponders whether our taking part in the great thanksgiving that is eucharist brings about changes in our blood. After all, ‘Christ gave his blood that ours might change’ (p. 188). So does redemption modify blood chemistry? Of course, being the scholar he is, Rogers offers many counter-arguments, but he certainly opens a way of thinking that is fruitful and challenging.

There is so much more to this book than I have been able to convey. It is a fascinating work that opens many new ways of thinking through engaging with a range of disciplines. It is a majestic work of scholarship that covers so much and makes so much strange that it will captivate and even mystify readers.