Reimagining Theology with Hanna Reichel: A Review of *After Method*

Hanna Reichel (they/them) is a prominent theologian and an emerging voice within the Princeton theological tradition, known for their work at the intersection of constructive theology, Barth studies, political theology, and critical theory. They bring a rare combination of academic depth, ecclesial sensitivity, and ethical urgency to their scholarship, making them one of the most compelling theological thinkers of this generation. I was drawn to After Method: Queer Grace, Conceptual Design, and The Possibility of Theology precisely because of Reichel’s growing influence and the way their work exemplifies a distinctly Princetonian commitment to rigorous theological reflection that remains accountable to both the academy and the church. Their reputation as an incisive and imaginative thinker precedes them, and I came to this book with the sense that it would not only challenge my theological assumptions but also invite me into a deeper and more honest theological posture. It did not disappoint.

After Method is a rare theological gem—one of those luminous texts that wields both humility and courage with astonishing grace. Hanna Reichel writes with the gentle wisdom of a dove and the incisive boldness of a serpent, embodying a theological posture that is as ethically compelling as it is intellectually rigorous. This is a masterpiece, not merely because of its argumentation—though the arguments are sharp and profound—but because of the way it thinks, the posture it commends, and the kind of theologian it dares the reader to become.

Reichel invites us into a posture where the task of theology is not to dominate or resolve but to dwell, to accompany, and above all, to care. The theologian, in this vision, is not called to save theology or to fix the world through doctrinal precision, but to practice love amid complexity, to listen deeply, and to remain accountable to the lives and communities theology touches. It is a vision of theological vocation marked not by grandiosity or self-importance, but by vulnerability, ethical attentiveness, and imaginative fidelity.

One of the book’s most quietly astonishing gifts is the way Reichel dismantles methodological pretension—not with scorn or superiority, but with tenderness and trust. They expose the limits and illusions of method, not to leave theology adrift in ambiguity, but to open up a more honest, liberating, and compassionate theological imagination—one that can reckon with the fragility and holiness of real life.

And yet After Method never retreats into relativism or disengagement. Quite the opposite. Reichel holds the stakes of theology at their highest—truth, justice, salvation, embodiment—and does so while refusing to instrumentalize or weaponize theological discourse. Their engagement with divergent theological resources and unlikely conversation partners is nothing short of masterful. To hold Karl Barth and Marcella Althaus-Reid in dialogue, not as opposites to be reconciled or merged, but as sources of creative tension, is itself a model of what theology can be at its best: rigorous, generous, and unafraid of complexity.

After Method is both an unmasking and a reimagining. It clears the ground of false certainties, then builds anew—quietly, courageously, beautifully. It is a theological call to faithfulness beyond the comfort of systems, strategies, and methods, all while refusing to abandon the beauty, the danger, and the sacred responsibility of the theological task.

This is 10/10 theological work. A book to be studied, savored, and lived.