At least in disciplinary terms, many might still consider anthropology and theology to be odd interlocuters. The history between them is not trouble-free. Yet anthropology’s efforts to “engage” theology (and vice versa) are nothing new. For example, the anthropology of Christianity has reflected on theology in various capacities since at least 2006, and several prominent anthropologists of Christianity even offer mature reflections on theology in this volume.1 Yet Theologically Engaged Anthropology moves beyond—even as it advances—anthropology of Christianity discourses to offer something that is arguably new to anthropologists, for instance,With both anthropologists and theological scholars contributing, this volume consists of an introduction and twenty chapters that place theology and anthropology in productive conversation. As Brian Howell registers at the outset, different types of theology can aid anthropologists. Some chapters focus on academic theologies. For example, volume editor J. Derrick Lemons explains how studying missional theology written by scholars “allowed me to discover new insights into the Wesleyan Church, which would have been missed if I had avoided theological engagement” (27). Indeed, secular theorists like Marx, Foucault, and Butler have long helped anthropologists sift through ethnographic data—but some chapters indicate that anthropologists can use theological theorists in similar ways (e.g., Timothy Larsen and Daniel King, 64). Other chapters focus primarily on the theologies of those they study. Martyn Percy, for instance, creatively suggests that theology’s “medium might be as important as the message,” exhorting readers “to pay attention to the mood, emotional weather, or optimum spiritual temperature of a church, congregation, or denomination” (312).Not only do theology’s types and mediums vary across this volume, but so too do the ends for which theology is used. In the above examples, one intention for theology’s use is to enrich ethnography. Naomi Haynes also does this, but an additional theoretical aim renders hers a key chapter: by considering theology as an ethnographic object, Haynes “address[es] one of the most vexing problems in the anthropology of Christianity—namely, how to write about divine action in a way that preserves the integrity of both our informants’ experiences and that of anthropological frameworks” (266). Like other contributors, Haynes takes seriously disciplinary boundaries between theology and anthropology, in this case proposing how divine agency can be studied without anthropology ceasing to be more or less empirical. Several additional chapters also use theology to develop anthropological theory, and a few, like Khaled Furani’s, even question disciplinary boundaries. Written with divergent aims, most of this volume’s chapters—too numerous to recount here—are filled with substantive insights not only into what theologians stand to gain from anthropology, but also—and especially—how theology can benefit anthropology, rendering this an important volume for anthropologists and theologians alike.Theologically inclined ethnographers might find this book especially worthwhile. For example, although James Bielo appreciates their “consistent use of a classic fieldwork model” (144), he points out that “ethnographic theologians” need not be as constrained by anthropology’s disciplinary strictures: what if “field notes . . . took the form of a Christian confession,” or “what would be the performative force of writing ethnography as prayer” (155)? Bielo thus issues a stunning invitation for innovation among theological scholars. Robbins gently chides ethnographic theologians for lacking imagination of a different sort: “Too often, they want to use ethnography to document things they already knew were present in the situations they studied.” Yet ethnography, Robbins maintains, should yield surprises, and so ethnographers should hope for “the kinds of findings one had not even guessed were in the world when one started one’s research” (226).Its self-reflexive contributors do not overlook what could be this volume’s two main weaknesses. First, there are conflicting and competing understandings of theology, and not having a shared object could challenge any comparative project’s viability. In a concluding reflection worth pondering carefully, Sarah Coakley takes stock of why theology’s definition matters and suggests a promising way forward. Second, this volume primarily considers Christian theology, perhaps reinforcing a longstanding critique of Christian bias among western anthropologists, but certainly overlooking how non-Christian theologies might bear upon anthropological discourse and practice. Lemons explains, “the reason for this focus is that most of the scholars involved in this project work directly with Christianity” (7). Accordingly, while this book can certainly benefit scholars studying other religions, its greatest value might be for those working with Christianity.As with anthropology and linguistics, Robbins hopes that anthropology’s and theology’s dialogue will “transform each discipline . . . expanding each discipline’s sense of its ends rather than merely augmenting its means of attaining them” (227). Will this dialogue transform anthropology’s or theology’s disciplinary ends? Time will tell—but this volume suggests that such transformation is possible.
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