God and Difference interlaces Christian theology with queer and feminist theory for both critical and constructive ends. Linn Marie Tonstad uses queer theory to show certain failures of Christian thinking about God, gender, and sexuality. She employs queer theory to dissect trinitarian discourse and the resonances found in contemporary Christian thought between sexual difference and difference within the trinity. Tonstad critiques a broad swath of prominent Christian theologians who either use queer theory in their work or affirm the validity of same-sex relationships, arguing that their work inadvertently promotes gendered hierarchy. This volume contributes to central debates in Christianity over divine and human personhood, gendered relationality, and the trinity, and provides original accounts of God, sexual difference, and Christian community that are both theologically rich and thoroughly queer.
Tonstad believes two things about the Trinity: Theologians, historical and contemporary, have taught it badly, full of patriarchy; and contemporary theologians, especially, have asked it to do too much, making it a model of social relations. She seeks to undo both mistakes here. Her constructive project, in turn, draws especially on Althaus-Reid, but with a bit more d
In summarizing thus, I have the advantage over a reader who is only a reader. The AAR session in San Antonio dedicated to this book's immediate reception was perhaps the most spiritually fulfilling (???) moment I've had at such a conference. The panelists and author all spoke directly, frankly, from the heart, about belief, prayer, justice, and queerness, as though all of them truly mattered. The advance word I'd heard was that Tonstad was sharply critical of Sarah Coakley, whose early work I adore, so I was prepared to be skeptical. In fact, both the substance of the panelists' reviews and the tone of the overall discussion made me excited finally to read for myself. My reading was in light of that discussion, which makes Tonstad's emphases and intentions clearer than they are on the page.
Tonstad sets up two tests for the doctrine of the Trinity. First, there must be no sense of sin, death, or finitude in the immanent Trinity, in God's inner life. Second, the persons of the Trinity must be equals, free of images of origination or rulership. The second test is obviously more controversial than the first, but probably comfortable enough to readers who share Tonstad's feminist priors. Looking through theologians from von Balthasar to Coakley, Tonstad finds failure of these tests at every turn, with accompanying disasters for accounts of desire and embodiment.
The main constructive aim in her AAR account was itself a negative one: We should say less about the Trinity, ask less of the doctrine, and de-center our human selves and certainties when it comes to the church's boundaries of desire. I was disappointed that her concluding chapter did not spell out some of the practical advice she was happy to give in San Antonio (e.g. insisting on lay presiders at the Eucharist). I wanted clearer stakes. Nevertheless, as it stands, the book is an excellent provocation. I found it compelling and maddening at turns and look forward to revising my own work in light of its insights.
Here, Tonstad sets out to abolish the "even thoughs" of Trinitarian theology, i.e. the claim that there is no subordination in the Trinity "even though Jesus is subordinate or obedient to the Father in certain ways, even though the Son comes forth from the Father, even though the Son sends the Spirit." She aims the describe the Trinity without needing an "even though." She attempts to do so by weaving Trinitarian reflection together with queer and feminist theory, sometimes to shocking effect.
Tonstad critiques several 20th & 21st century theologians, highlighting in their Trinitarian constructions strands of subordination, finitude, and even death. Her treatment of Sarah Coakley initially drew me in, since Coakley is a leading voice in Anglican theology of gender. She critiques Coakley and others for "importing finitude" into the immanent life of the Trinity.
In the end, Tonstad concludes that emphasizing the relations of origin (i.e. insisting on the Son's eternal procession) necessarily leads to subordinationism. I found her argument that modern Trinitarian thought tends toward subordationism to be engaging and perhaps even persuasive. I'm not convinced, though, that relations of origin have no place in our creeds.
In lieu of prevailing subordinationist views, she proposes a construction of the Trinity which "de-personalizes" (my term) the Father and the Son and grounds the divine life in the logic of "gift-giving" rather than in origin. I found her novel construction of the Trinity as "the Lord of Glory" well-written, well-argued, and even inspiring. I would have liked to read more on this constructive proposal.
Overall, this was a very engaging read but also a very challenging one -- challenging in that there are lots of big words and in that her ideas suggest the necessity of major upheavals in the life of the church. In that vein, I sometimes wish that feminist theologians, with whom I'm often sympathetic, would speak more directly to the real-world implications of feminist theology. For example: if we are to reject relations of origin in the Trinity, what does that mean for our creeds? Should we change them? Or forget about them all together? Or, if we recognize the inherent sexism in Father/Son language, what does that mean liturgically? Must we drop the language entirely, or take some more measured approach? How does feminist theology help the average worshipper know and love God in her parish church? What about the non-feminist worshipper?
If anyone knows of any queer, feminist, or womanist works which deal with such questions, please let me know.
Thought-provoking and thorough. Tonstad proposes a compelling critique of recent attempts to make the doctrine of the trinity address subordination in society. Often these attempts to make the trinity a location of critique of subordination reinscribes subordination into the Godhead. I think her constructive proposal goes a long way in articulating a trinitarian theology that avoids the common pitfalls of social trinitarianism (and even anti-social trinitarians like Kathryn Tanner).
Also, personally, as an admirer of Schleiermacher, I was grateful to read yet another theologian who his rediscovering and lifting up the promising aspects of Schleiermacher's work.
Her use of the apocalyptic is interesting and I think adds a lot of value to Christian ethics (and highlights some of the best insights of the Reformation that demand an epistemic and moral humility upon the part of Christians). I do wonder if apocalyptic theologies and insights offer a sustainable foundation for continued ethical reflection? My question might be falling into the very trap Tonstad warns about of a "reproductive ecclesiology" and that I am desiring "securitization." This could be true, but I do wonder if at least a modicum of security affords one the courage to act.
This is a well researched and scholarly contribution to the conversations on the divine and human relationship and its gendered implications in the history of Christian theology. Utilizing feminist and queer theology, Tonstad identifies the problematic ways theologians have gone about trinitarian discourse. Gender, personhood, sexuality, difference, and power, Tonstad argues, are all discussions central to how we ought to talk about God, the Trinity, and the divine/human relationship.
This book argues points that (I think) I agree with. The place that it lost me is that it is very hard to read, and even misses the mark when working in an academic setting, forget a popular one.