The Wiley Blackwell Companion to Comparative Theology: A Festschrift in Honor of Francis X. Clooney, SJ. Edited by Joseph L. Kimmel and Axel M. Oaks Takacs. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons Ltd, 2024. Pp. xxviii, 526. 195. 00.

It is fitting that a major companion to comparative theology would also be a Festschrift for the Jesuit comparative theologian, Francis X. Clooney. This substantial volume (both in bulk and in theological content) thus provides two intertwined but also distinctive elements, assessing, evaluating, and celebrating the work and legacy of a great scholar, teacher, and person in Frank; and also providing a seminal resource and guide for the current state and future of a major field (or subfield) of contemporary theology, which Clooney has done so much to advance, represent, and inspire. It succeeds on both accounts, and editors Joseph L. Kimmel and Axel M. Oaks Takacs deserve praise for assembling a work of 44 chapters (in addition to a preface by John B. Carman and William A. Graham, and introduction by the editors) divided into seven sections with chapters from 47 contributors. The chapters covered are as varied as one might expect in such a handbook with impressive diversity in faiths and topics, with Christian-Hindu Studies particularly well-represented in a nod to Clooney's lifelong work. In what follows, I'll briefly highlight my stand-out chapters in the book, or provocative ideas I noted in the marginalia for future use. Four chapters, from Ruben L.F. Habito, Leo D. Lefebure, Jon Paul Sydnor, and Mark J. Edwards, deserve special consideration, but I will also include a few others as length permits. Part I, 'Theories and Method in Comparative Theology', consists of seven chapters, including Catherine Cornille's aim to distinguish comparative from transreligious theology vis-à-vis relativism. For Cornille, comparative theology 'provides a middle way which actively and consciously engages the reality of religious plurality without compromising the truth claims of a particular religion' (p. 28). She asserts that transreligious theology, without a clear mooring or with few 'ultimate criteria', is more likely to be mired in subjectivism (p. 29). Habito, meanwhile, provides a potent calling for how a Christian theology of religion can be fulfilled through interfaith encounters and dialogue with the non-Christian Other, what he terms 'a fulfillment model in reverse' (p. 40). Such a method eschews any intra-Christian debate on whether an inclusivist or pluralist model is preferred by accentuating how much we learn, grow, and are fulfilled by and from others; a brilliant twist to our tendency to see how we fulfil some Other instead. Outside John J. Thatamanil's insightful analysis into Clooney as a theologian of process and not conclusions (p. 129), I connected the least with the other six chapters of part II, 'The Spirituality, Vocation, and Formation of the Comparative Theologian'. In the four essays of part III, 'Comparative Theology and the Society of Jesus', I appreciated Christian S. Krokus's focus on Clooney's Jesuit identity, especially in referring to the 'evangelical edge' of Clooney's work, commenting: 'It is precisely within the vulnerable uncertainty that one is more likely to meet God' (p. 159). I was also impressed with Peng Yin's proficiency exhibited in his examination of Jesuit missionaries in two very different contexts: China and Latin America. Among the four chapters of part IV, 'Expanding on Francis X. Clooney's Corpus', one included my favourite chapter in the book (Lefebure's) and another had the best title, Kimberly C. Patton's profound and deeply learned chapter, '"Good Dark Love Birds, Will You Help?": Comparative Reflections on Clooney's His Hiding Place is Darkness'. Lefebure's chapter, moreover, expertly balances a genuine respect and love for the life and work of Clooney, and offers fair critiques and challenges. While rightly lauding Clooney's theology as 'one of the most creative and influential implementations' of the inclusivist turn to the non-Christian Other after the Second Vatican Council (p. 187), Lefebure also raises concerns that in much of Clooney's theological exegesis of Christian sources and Scripture, he pays insufficient attention to (what I would call) watershed developments in Jewish-Christian studies and contemporary biblical scholarship in post-Shoah Christian (and Jewish) thought. I highlight Lefebure's chapter not just because it resonates closely with my own position, but because it is an example of how a chapter in a Festschrift can be generous and critical, and most importantly, encourage some type of response (or perhaps, rebuttal). Part V, 'Exercises in Comparative Theology', comprising nine chapters, had at least six that deserve mention here, but I'll only highlight two. Because I did not read the book in order, Jon Paul Sydnor's 'Joy in the Earth: A Christian Cosmology Based on Agapic Nondualism' was one of my remaining ones; perhaps, I was not attracted to the subtitle. It was another reminder you can't always judge a chapter by its title and why, especially in writing a review, you need to read everything in an anthology or handbook, not just what aligns with your fields of interest or what you think you will definitely understand! Sydnor's was a richly interdisciplinary contribution, showcasing impressive knowledge and reading in science, music, theology, and spirituality. Among many caveats, he writes: 'Religions frequently advocate transformation, and the engines of transformation are difference, disagreement, and debate. Sameness is impotent' (p. 321). This part of the book was the most theologically rich overall, also evidenced by contributions from Daniel Joslyn-Siemiatkoski's helpful case study of Good Friday to showcase the value of incorporating the ritual and liturgical (not just textual) in comparative theology; to Takacs's heeding of Clooney's supervisorial advice to read Hans Urs von Balthasar. Balthasar, not usually cited positively in interreligious studies, becomes a source and reminder of the need to cultivate amazement and wonder, and Takacs weaves Balthasar's notion of gestalt within the context of evaluating Christology in Christian-Muslim theology. Part VI, 'Comparative Theology beyond the Disciplines', had my fourth major stand-out chapter, Mark J. Edwards on 'God Meets Us There: Prison as the True Home for the Christian Comparative Theologian'. Edwards's chapter includes perhaps the most challenging line for many of us who may mostly speak about love of God and neighbour from the comfort of our offices or homes: 'Quite simply, comparative theologians should go to jails, prisons, camps, and the variety of carceral locations' (p. 411). Edwards's reasons are wide-ranging, from enabling the comparative theologian to embark on a challenging journey 'of fruitful comparative insight' to a 'way to meet God' (p. 411). The final part of the book, 'The Past, Present, and Future of Comparative Theology', closes with nine chapters: from Wilhelmus Valkenberg's illuminating 'In Praise of Artisans: Ramon Marti, Georges Anawati and the Importance of Languages', highlighting how Dominican and Jesuit missionaries could both embody the need and love of other languages in interfaith learning; to Bin Song's challenging contribution asking how and whether there is a place for Ruist (Confucian) thought and method in comparative theology. It took me about four months from when I first picked up this book to complete my reading of it. I'd like to think it was because I tried to follow Clooney's advice on intentionally 'slow, reflective reading', which Hugh Nicholson, in the book's final chapter, identifies as an area that needs to be cultivated and supported if we want to 'continue Clooney's legacy' (p. 506). For me, this meant reading one chapter a day, at most. As I'm not a scholar of Hindu-Christian comparative theology, I am inevitably biased on the standout chapters I highlighted above, but all 44 chapters testify to the kind of important work being done by comparative theologians or, in a few cases, academics such as literary historian Luis Manuel Giró-Negrón, who humbly states he is not a theologian, but whose chapter (responding to an earlier invitation from Clooney) unfolds desire and prayer in John of the Cross and Solomon Ibn Gabriol, and testifies to his deep theological thinking. Also of note is how much I enjoyed the personal asides in many chapters where contributors briefly explain or reveal their connection or link to Frank, whether as colleague, co-writer, or student. Such personal stories or asides render this a living work between and among scholars who care about one another in the link and chain of supervisor and student or colleague and colleague. In his chapter comparing intuition in Clooney and Jonathan Z. Smith, Kimmel, for example, attests to Clooney's 'remarkable altruism, humility, and compassionate concern for others' (p. 18). He also tells a revealing story of Frank. Before speaking at an important evening panel on the future of religious studies at Harvard, Frank first greeted a 'disheveled' and likely unhoused man, telling him he was welcome at any similar event, before then greeting his fellow Harvard colleagues and other dignitaries (p. 19). In closing, permit me to share my own mark of gratitude for Frank. In 2011, a few years removed from my PhD but only in a temporary post, I emailed Frank to see if he would contribute to an edited book I was planning, entitled Loss and Hope: Global, Interreligious, and Interdisciplinary Perspectives. The idea was to have survivors and witnesses of mass atrocity write in part one, interreligious theology contributions in part two, and literary (and other interdisciplinary) accounts in part three. Frank had never met me before (and of course had no reason to know of me). The book did not even yet have a publisher. It would have been so easy for him politely to say no, especially as he was in the midst of writing and researching what became one of his classic works, His Hiding Place is Darkness: A Hindu-Catholic Theopoetics of Divine Absence. Yet he wrote back explaining that if the timeline could be flexible, he could do this. Re-reading our email exchanges a moment ago, what again strikes me is his generosity, humility, and curiosity, open to my comments and thanking me for any suggestions I make on drafts. His contribution, later published in the book as 'The Virtue of Christian Learning from Other Religions: The Substance of Things Hoped For', was a gift to me, especially looking back, amidst a global recession, a growing young family, and a government hiring freeze in Ireland, and so a very precarious and sometimes seemingly hopeless time. Thank you, Frank.