With A Theology of Interreligious Relations Henning Wrogemann offers the third and final installment of his Intercultural Theology cycle. It is, frankly, a thing of beauty. Wrogemann writes with the ease and wisdom of a seasoned scholar. The elegance of his prose, the deliberateness of his argumentation, the expert choice of asides—these give us all the sense that this monograph is the result of years of patient intellectual distillation.This volume unfolds in three movements. First comes the most textbook section. In form, it is a taxonomical literature review of contemporary theology of religion: Hick, Clooney, and Yong, among others. Of course, taxonomies are always a matter of construction. That we find Wrogemann’s first moment preparing us for his constructive material ought to be no surprise. What is striking, however, is the penetrating insight with which he analyzes the state of the field, especially in his “critical responses” at the end of each overview.Having retraced the general shape and prevalent options of Christian theology of religion, Wrogemann proceeds to a second movement where he introduces us to Buddhist and Islamic theologies of religion. Indeed, for many of us, this will be a true introduction to unfamiliar names: Fared Esack, Muhammad Shahrūr, Anagārika Dharmapāla, and Buddhadāsa Bhikku. It seems, though, that the primary lesson that Wrogemann would impress upon us is the simple fact that no tradition, Christian or otherwise, reflects theologically upon other traditions from a neutral starting place. Be it the supremacy of the Qur’an, a Buddhist “hermeneutics of the two languages” (189), or the cosmological deity of Christ—we all enter concrete interreligious relationships fully loaded.In a third movement, Wrogemann makes his constructive contribution: a theory of interreligious relations paired with a theology of interreligious relations. These two are distinct, but intimately intertwined. Wrogemann’s theory of interreligious relations is a remarkable attempt to improve upon the contemporary state of the field on an ambitious number of fronts. He names these as five fallacies that he wishes to controvert: the rationalist, the individualist, the monolinear, the elitist, and the “forgetting the body.” In other words, he is trying to develop a theory of the relation of religious “we’s” that engages these relations in their fullness. “The task of the theory of interreligious relations for which we are calling is to expose the background assumptions behind people’s theories of democracy that lead them to give precedence to very specific forms of dialogue theory or theology of religion” (294).Thus the theory of interreligious relations clears the way to a new and more sensitive theology of interreligious relations. This theology of interreligious relations, in turn, cuts a new path away from the worn ground of theology of religions. He is not interested in giving a theological account of religions; he is interested in a theological account of the interaction of religions. A much humbler, but still no small task.Wrogremann’s contribution is characterized by a head-on approach to the most infamous texts and dynamics in Christian theology of the religions. He begins this segment by asking perhaps the question: is violence the necessary correlative of the jealousy of Israel’s monotheistic God? Only then does he move to a Christological investigation of interreligious relations, but even here his work is shot through with this same sort of clarity of vision. He wants to remind us that Jesus’s own interreligious relations do not reflect a “meek and mild” nonresistance; Wrogemann wants rather to point us to a certain (provocatively named) “brutality” in the very embodiment of many of Jesus’s symbolic actions. He continues with a discussion of the Christian religious communality and the dynamics of ultimate justifications. This is all to say, Wrogemann’s theology of interreligious relations reflects a belief that the way to right interreligious relations is through, not around the valley of the shadow of disagreement and conflict.Throughout, Wrogemann’s method is grounded in a decidedly concretist particularism: an attention to the object right in front of us. There is hardly a page that lacks this commitment. But we can see it most clearly in those many places where Wrogemann wants to push theology of religions toward a more particularist way of dealing with the religions. He notes, for instance, how often accounts of religious dialogue assume that one must relativize their own theological convictions—especially convictions that claim some kind of ultimate validity—in order to enter into dialogue peaceably. Such an arrangement asks religious persons to do something which would otherwise never occur in their own religious practice: sideline their own convictions and those of their community. Indeed, such demands seem to conjure a specter of the lived faiths without engaging them in their concrete existence.Thus, Wrogemann’s own work takes up a posture of perpetual openness to the actual existence of the religions. It thereby challenges us to lay aside a host of convictions, assumptions, and points of view that we hold dear. What is more, it challenges us to face those realities of religion that we would rather ignore: exclusivist communities, conflict, and violence. His work attempts to make room in theory for what is there in reality however infelicitous it may be.There is little that one cannot find in this volume, not to mention the previous two. The history of theology of religions, a general introduction to the state of the field, a horizon-widening foray into other traditions, some of the finest constructive work on offer is all here—it is all here. It seems that the only reader this volume does not serve is a reader who has no interest in theology of religion. For that interested remainder of us, Wrogemann has delivered a fine specimen indeed.