Reviewed by: Joey Dearduff

Bibliographic Information: Cheng, Patrick S. Rainbow Theology: Bridging Race, Sexuality, and Spirit. New York: Seabury Books, 2013. 208 pages. $20.95. ISBN: 9781596272415.

In Rainbow Theology: Bridging Race, Sexuality, and Spirit, the Rev. Dr. Patrick S. Cheng, the openly gay Asian American Associate Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, MA, suggests beginning the formation of a rainbow theology—an understanding of God through the lens of the LGBTIQ people of color community—through the illustrations of queer of color individuals and organizations. He introduces the book by first illustrating the movement of monochrome to polychrome, of grayscale to vibrancy, in the movie The Wizard of Oz. He laments how LGBTIQ people of color never quite make it to Oz, despite there being some 3.2 million in the United States alone, because they are excluded from the LGBTIQ community by racism and from communities of color by queerphobia (xiv).** Cheng shares his goals for the book, including lifting up queer of color theologies by specifically naming and crediting them and ushering these theologies and queer of color friends from the margins of society, faith, and understanding to the center (xv-xix). 

The first of two parts of Rainbow Theology validate and paint the presence of several distinct queer of color communities in the United States. Before he delves too deeply, however, Cheng first expresses the importance of not intellectualizing or  generalizing the individual. In other words, he notes that “queer of color” is less about identity and more about positionality (that is, it represents an “in between” position of both queer communities and communities of color) (6). He also briefly distinguishes some common terms he foresees being integral to the conversation: lesbian, gay, and bisexual refer to sexual orientation; transgender refers to gender identity and expression; and intersex refers to biological sex. These terms, he suggests, are bound together in that they are associated with a sense of marginalization (11). 

From here, Cheng dives into various expressions of queer of color rainbow theology by focusing on voices of individuals and organizations of these communities. He begins with queer black theologies. After a brief historical background, Cheng offers a genealogy, exploring first Black Church exclusion, wherein queer persons of color in the Black Church have often experienced homophobia; rainbow theology condemns it as a sin and as a betrayal of black faith because it has alienated LGBTIQ black people from God and refused to allow them to be affirmed in the fullness of their humanity (22). The second facet is in the reclamation of black lesbian voices, which is done as a response to the white feminist theologies’ historical silencing of the voices of black women liberation and black lesbian voices (24-27). Finally, the third facet is challenging black liberation theologies, which often fail to include a liberation for queer of color siblings. For African Americans, bodies and sexualities are in as much need for freedom as is their skin color (28). Black liberation theology also fails to recognize the complexity (including the joys) of the gay black male experience (29). 

In the third chapter, Cheng explores queer Asian American theologies, noting first the parallel of the threefold interplay of race, sexuality, and spirituality in the lives of LGBTIQ Asian Americans as a reflection of the trinitarian nature of God (36). Following a brief historical background, Cheng examines Asian and Asian American church exclusion. He notes theologian Lem Lim of Singapore, who laments not having the right language to properly express his sexuality adequately (40). Michael Kim, a Korean American, likewise laments that coming out would be, at least in his family and church, the ultimate failure that would nullify all the good he had ever done (41). The second facet is critiquing LGBTIQ racism, a “so-called welcoming community” that might be attributed to any standard white community and examining how the queer Asian American experience is often defined by metaphorical homelessness and bodily alienation (43). Lastly, queer Asian American theology highlights transnational perspectives, noting the baklâ effeminate gay Filipino man and the nu-tongzhi Chinese lesbians (45). 

Cheng continues with queer Latina/o theologies, beginning first with a brief history that notes the distinction of Latin Americans (of Central and South America) from Latina/o (of the United States) from Hispanic (suggesting ties to Spain) (54-58). The genealogy of queer Latina/o theologies involves living on the borderlands, or as Gloria Anzaldúa names it, la frontera, where Latina/o, queer, and Christian identities coexist in an in-between space (59-60). It likewise involves challenging machismo, wherein both the macho and the non-macho as alienated from a false construction of manliness and an obsessive neurotic orientation (61-62). Lastly, queer Latina/o theologies involve a crossing of literary and religious borders; Cheng references artists such as Emanuel Xavier, a gay Latino poet, and Manuel Muñoz, author of the short story “Zipzagger” (63). He closes the chapter by musing over further scholarship and the proliferation of voices of and in the queer Latina/o community. 

The final exploration of a specific queer of color theology is that of Two-Spirit Indigenous scholarship. In a brief historical background, Cheng establishes the use of LGBTIQ as a method of subverting the colonialism and imperialistic conceptualization forced upon Indigenous peoples (74). The genealogy of Two-Spirit Indigenous scholarship involves a resistance against settler colonialism, wherein it must be recognized that Two-Spirit Indigenous peoples are not simply objects of analysis but rather producers of theory (75). It likewise involves recognizing Two-Spirit identities, such as in a rejection of terms such as “queer,” “berdache,” and “LGBTIQ” and an embracing of the term “Two-Spirit” (76-78). Lastly, in involves doing the work of allies, wherein the idea of “Two-Spirit” must be understood not as a minority position defined against majority sexuality or gender norms but actually as in an integral location that links all Native people in relationship (79). 

In the second part of Rainbow Theology, Cheng does the actual work of constructing the framework of how queer of color communities relate to and resemble the Divine. For Cheng, rainbow theology is not just theology about queer people of color, but rather it is a broader methodology and critique that can be applied to all forms of theological reflection (85). Indeed, rainbows symbolize the convergence of race, sexuality, and spirit and therefore serve as an ideal symbol for constructing a theology that speaks to the experiences of LGBTIQ people of color (89). Before diving headlong into this theology, Cheng first introduces the categorical elements thereof: rainbow theology, he says, experiences multiplicity, middle spaces, and mediation while challenging singularity, staying home, and selecting sides (89-93). 

The idea of multiplicity in rainbow theology comes directly from the queer of color experience. Multiplicity challenges the norm of choosing only a single way in which one differs from others, instead affirming that the queer of color experience differs widely and vastly in the various communities it is found (98). Therefore, queer of color rainbow theologies critique faulty examples of singularity, such as the imagined stereotypes of the normal white gay man, the hypersexual black gay man, the feminized Asian American gay man, the sensual Latino gay man, and the asexual Native American gay man (101-102). Also, multiplicity exists within (not just as a facet from) queer of color theology. The theme of multiplicity resists the fiction of singular oppression and retells the story such that seemingly distinct oppressions are, in fact, inextricably intertwined and imbricated in a sort of holy dance (106-107). 

The middle spaces that exist within the queer of color experienced can be found likewise in the life of Jesus, who was metaphorically homeless as a result of living in the middle space between the divine and the human (112). These middle spaces are defined by racial and sexual homelessness (consider Glora Anzaldúa’s la frontera, or “borderlands”), spiritual homelessness (consider how LGBTIQ African Americans have been radically estranged from the Black Church because of the church’s categorical opposition to homosexuality), and disembodiment (wherein the centrality of promiscuous incarnation reveals an excess and indiscriminate divine love) (115-120). 

Finally, the mediation of and within the queer of color experience is rich in interreligious, interdisciplinary, and intercultural bridges. Consider the writings of Qwo-Li Driskill, for example, who uses non-transliterated Cherokee words in writing as a way to honor the Cherokee language while fusing it with more widely understood scholarship, or of José Esteban Muñoz, who brings together elements of drag shows to reality TV to strip clubs into his literary work (129). Within queer of color theologies themselves, the theme of mediation appears in interdisciplinary mediation, such as in Emilie Townes’ use of fluid language as a way of mediating between the normal rigidity in categories of theology, ethics, and poetry (133); it appears in transnational mediation, such as in the Two-Spirit Indigenous studies that, by definition, cross borders between settler colonizers and Indigenous nation-states (136); and it appears in interfaith mediation between various religions across the world (136-138). Cheng suggests that, perhaps because of the experience of constantly living in a place of fragmentation and metaphorical homelessness, the queer of color community has reached out across differences and divides for their own survival and liberation (139).  

Cheng concludes by briefly examining how the multiplicity, middle space, and mediation themes of queer of color lives are reflected in the life of Jesus. Because there are queer persons of color in the body of Christ, then the body of Christ is queer and colored; and therefore Jesus Christ is also a queer person of color (147). Cheng offers a beautifully constructed rainbow prayer as a conclusion, which depicts colors of the rainbow as various facets of holiness and sanctification: for life, the root of the Spirit; for sexuality, the fire of spirit; for self-esteem, the core of spirit; for love, the heart of spirit; for self-expression, the voice of spirit;  for vision, the wisdom of spirit; and for the entire rainbow, which encompasses the whole spectrum of life (155-156). 

Cheng writes Rainbow Theology from the perspective of a queer person of color; he does not write specifically for queer persons of color, nor for queer white persons; because of this, all LGBTIQ friends might connect with and learn from the experiences contained within Cheng’s work. Those with gender dysphoria, or who are intersex, might take issue with Cheng’s problematic repeated use of “Latina/o,” which might typify a heteronormative understanding of the binary of female and male identity; furthermore, Cheng introduces the use of LGBTIQ2 in his Two-Spirit Indigenous peoples chapter, explaining that the inclusion of the numeral combats the imperialistic nature of the majority population, but then only uses this form of the acronym in that one chapter. 

Even so, Cheng’s Rainbow Theology is a necessary read for persons of color, persons who identify as queer, and persons seeking to become better allies to either of these marginalized communities. As a whole, Cheng echoes repeatedly this challenge of reshaping our understanding of acceptance and rejection, of identity and society, and, simply put, the difficulty (and beauty, he is intentional in including) of being an LGBTIQ2 person of color. Allies seeking to better understand how to support and affirm and love queer persons will find that Rainbow Theology reveals the multiplicity, middle space, and mediation present in queer of color experience; they will better understand that there is no “queer experience” or “queer challenges,” and even within queer communities there exists individuals who are rejected or marginalized—not for the gender or sexuality, but for the color of their skin. Cheng concludes with a powerful plea: for more voices in the queer of color family to speak and to be heard. 

** I, as the reviewer of this book, am not a member of the queer of color community. I will therefore, unlike Cheng, use identifying language that is not self-inclusive: i.e., “members of the queer of color community” rather than “we,” etc.