Seizing the moment

I've discovered how to evangelise. I learnt the lesson yesterday evening when shopping "in civvies" at Morrisons. I wandered towards the fish counter and then opened up the latest copy of the BBC Good Food magazine to see if any recipe in it corresponded to any fish that was available. "You don't need that magazine," the fishmonger opined. "It's a waste of money. Just tell me what you want." I felt slightly affronted but a lot more relieved that this friendly man was taking the situation in hand. "I don't really know" I returned, somewhat weakly. "I've got a bit of time and I thought I'd make something good for supper." "What you want is monkfish," he said, pointing it out to me. "I buy this and wrap it in parma ham and put herbs in it for a special meal for my girlfriend and me." " I'm just cooking for one," I said; "how about sardines?" "Good choice," he said, concealing any disappointment he may have had that I was going for such a cheap alternative. "What I'd do with these is this: bake them with roasted vegetables and couscous and sprinkle them with cumin." As I was looking for the vegetables he actually came over and found a pre-packed tray of various ones, priced £1, and handed them to me. "There you go," he said, " a good meal for £2." "They don't pay you enough," I said. "They don't" he agreed.

I felt greatly touched by his interest in my evening meal. I could tell that he was taking pleasure in our conversation. The context, of course, as we both knew, was that he was selling me goods. But the interaction which he had inititated genuinely brightened my evening. He effectively declared to me: I can see that you are floundering a bit; trust me; I'm going to help you. That same dynamic lies at the heart of all good evangelisation. We have to be confident, friendly and attentive to those around us. When the opportunity comes, we need to intervene in the other's life decisively. Those whom I have heard described as "post-Catholics" are expecting the shepherd to go in pursuit of them. Thoroughgoing agnostics and unbelievers respond well to boldness. The last thing we need to do is respect people's autonomy. I'd still be trying to find the fish section in the magazine if the fishmonger had allowed such small matters to deter him from seizing the moment. Increasingly, I ask students if they believe in Christ and, if not, if they would like some help in discovering more about faith. The more I do it, the more I realise that they were expecting the question and that they are relieved, deeply relieved (I can see it in their eyes) that I have spoken. What happens afterwards is up to them: I know, though, that, whatever their response, both of us have, as a result of our encounter, lived in the present moment with a peculiar intensity, participating as we have in a conversion drama of invitation and response in which the silences and the meeting of eyes have been as significant as any words used.