When it comes to Paul Fiddes this facebook conversation from December 2011 is probably spot on:
The problem with studying at Regent's Park is the repeated realisation "anything you can do, Fiddes has done better"!
(Student Baptist minister)
'That's my whole career in eight words.'
(British Baptist theologian)
'Too true. I've likened it to hacking through the jungle, every so often you reach a clearing and think to yourself that you have made a contribution. Then, just as you are ready to move on you spot an empty wine bottle with a note in the top. You open the note to discover it reads "visited here in 1995 - regards Paul".'
(British Baptist minister)
Paul Fiddes is perhaps what many of us think a theologian should look like. Paul has the same look that Colin Gunton had (beard, no moustache), which perhaps should become the non-conformist theological trademark (come on Steve Holmes, I dare you!). Paul also shares the commitment Colin had to the local church and their wider bodies (Baptist and URC respectively). I note their similarities (although their theologies were quite different) because for us nonconformists we don't have many of the like of Fiddes and Gunton.
It doesn't happen often, not even in every generation, but sometimes the church is gifted by God with someone with immense theological wisdom and ability to grasp the historical tradition of the church, and in Paul's case, the skill to relate and connect it all to the issues of and questions of contemporary culture. For us Baptists, at least in the UK, Paul Fiddes is the theological voice, at whose feet we listen.
Today is Professor Paul Fiddes' sixty-fifth birthday. Here's a quote from an essay on Baptist identity:
I have stood with fellow Baptists at a service in Sam Sharpe Square in Montego Bay, Jamaica, a place named in memory of the Baptist deacon and slave who was executed for his protest against the British slave system. I have prayed with fellow Baptists by the side of the Han river in Seoul, Korea, and witnessed several thousand young people being baptized - not in a media spectacle, but each one greeted personally by his or her pastor. I have lectured with fellow Baptists in the University of Timisoare, Romania, near the square where more than fifty young people were killed in the revolution of 1989 as they demonstrated for freedom, shouting 'God exists'. I have talked with Portuguese Baptists in Lisbon, where the great earthquake of 1755 is still remembered as the event which shook people's faith in a good creator, and destroyed a whole system of natural theology. I have shared in a Sunday morning service in the black township of Tembisa near Johannesburg where the previous night Zulu Inkata terrorists had massacred nearly a hundred people, and I have experienced Zulu and Chosa Baptists worshipping together in acceptance of each other. I have sat with Baptists in Cuba, listening to the way that they understand mission in their neighbourhood, led by a pastor who was serving as a Deputy in the government of Fidel Castro, and suffering rejection by fellow Christians because of this involvement in politics. I have received hospitality from Baptists in Myanmar, and admired the way that their ethnic groups express their faith, and their hopes for a common society, through their different styles of song and dance. Through these experiences, my thinking has been shaped in a way that would not have been possible without a shared identity as Baptists.
Identity, I suggest, is more about identification than about being identical. It is an identification which is not a mere human effort, but is enabled by that identification of God with humanity that we call incarnation ... I want to make clear that my appeal to the act of identifying does not conform the church to the secular model of a voluntary society, though there will always be something intentional about it; nor am I ignoring the truth that we share a common identity as members of the body of Christ through baptism. However, a theology of identification will be bound to envisage visible unity as covenantal at heart, rather than (say) a recovery of any particular structure of episcopal oversight which has precedent in history ... It is not that we share an already-existing identity through establishing a common list of agreed items, but we willingly identify ourselves with others who want to make or keep covenant with us because they catch an echo of their story in us.
('The Question of Identity' in Tracks and Traces: Baptist Identity in Church and Theology, Paternoster, 2003, pp15-16)
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