Jack

Another memorable conversation from 2009. These don't count as part of the tally, since it's not 2010 yet.

I am a person that likes to class things into categories. I like when things are organised neatly and put in self-contained boxes. I enjoy labels. Apparently organisation is my 2nd ranking manifest gift in the Christian gifts survey. (Though I don't read too much into that survey.) Classification is a good skill to have when tackling exam problems at uni. Step-by-step, follow the structure, deal with each issue independently, they always tell me. Young-old, rich-poor, middle class-working class, mainstream-indie, interesting-boring, useful-superfluous, city-country, domestic-international, so forth and so forth, I make many classifications in everyday life. Compartmentalisation is a concept that is thrown around a lot at law school - a way of separating "stuff" into manageable chunks with no messy interference between them. Deans always talk about separating your work life and your private life. However, most law students already concede that the nature of the law beast is that your work life is your private life. (A discussion for another time.) I heard an interview with the actress Jodie Foster, who attributed the success of her career on her capacity to compartmentalise her life.

Suffice to say, when I evangelise it is in my nature to make a lot of classifications. Even when I know this is extremely problematic. Is this person likely to want to talk to me, or unlikely to want to talk to me? The little-old-ladies, the young-international-student-girls always seem to win out over the burly bloke with in the singlet-top with the tattoos or the busy-looking CEO in the Armani suit, leather shoes, briefcase. But I am very wary of over-simplification, especially with people. It is impossible to know how any given person will reaction when asked about Jesus.

I once knew a person, who as part of a Christian in-joke would give strangers a rating out of 5 for approachability. 0 would denote no hope in hell (mind the language and the bad pun). 5 would denote a blank canvas. Very bad taste, no? Yet I still classify people, though not using a 1-to-5 scale, in my mind subconsciously, even when I know profiling (a form of pre-judgement) is misplaced. I make lots of excuses - my time is precious, I should only approach the ones where I actually stand a chance. But my assumptions are nearly always wrong. Who am I to know who will eventually turn to Jesus? I am surely not God.

Every once in a while we get a stark reminder of this.

Jack was unexpected. Obviously not his real name, I call him Jack because he reminded me a lot of Jack Sparrow the Pirate in character (though not appearance). (High-culture readers will cringe at the pop-culture reference.) Somewhat quirky, not always all there, but mentally agile, a bit mysterious, elusive and very unexpected.

On the day I met him it was raining. The day had begun rather early and I am not a morning person. I had arranged to meet with a group of Christians from the Christian group at uni and the plan was to do some walk-up evangelism in my local church area, mostly around the shopping district. I waited for a long time for my friends and fellow students to arrive, as most students and Christians are late (and invariably the combination of Christian student does not help). When finally they all arrived, we gathered in the small apartment of one of my church's staff-workers, who lived nearby and had generously donated his place to host a short briefing session. We resolved to split into pairs and wander different parts of the suburb. We would evangelise in the morning, have lunch and reassess what to do for the afternoon.

My partner was a friend and fellow Law student. He had a natural easy-going style of conversation that would compliment my more question-asking approach. (I am often envious of people with the ability to naturally converse.) He had never evangelised before and I was supposed to be 'the experienced one'. I found this somewhat disconcerting, as I was far from experienced. We had agreed to ask people what they thought Christians believed as an opening question. We hoped that this would elucidate quickly what problems or issues that certain person had with the Christian faith, allow us to clarify and discuss it with them, and segue way into further meaningful conversation topics.

The morning was slow. We started in a quiet bench area inside the shopping centre. There were few people as it was still early. We had several rejections, followed by a young recent immigrant from India. He was genuinely interested in what we had to say, as he did not know much about what Christians believed. But because of the language barrier (neither my partner or I can speak Hindi), it was exceptionally difficult to converse, and the conversation soon ended.

More rejections and we ended up it the food court area. We were somewhat hesitant to do that area. There is a general rule of thumb not to approach people who are eating, people who are indoors and areas where there are groups of people within close proximity of one another. (Feel free to disagree.) The food court is a triple whammy. If people are eating, they generally don't want to talk. Indoors creates a sense of inability to escape and strangers find this uncomfortable. Also, there's the added difficulty of once you approach one group of people at one table, the next group of people sitting in the adjacent table quietly thinking, "Oh no, I'm next, those crazy Christians are going to approach me next." Nonetheless, we decided to hit the food court area anyway. We were feeling optimistic.

More rejections followed. I recall a lot of people telling us that it was absolutely disrespectful to approach them at a time like this, while they were eating. The only person to respond was an older man in his 50s or 60s. I am a bad judge of age (as most young people are). He was having a coffee and reading a paper. He told us about that he was a Christian and how he went regularly to a different church in the area. He talked a lot about works and being good servant-hearted people, imitating Jesus. He commended us for doing evangelism. We talked briefly about the grace of God in Jesus, and salvation through faith, which he affirmed. Though I would have liked to talk to him more about this work and faith dichotomy, he seemed anxious to return to his coffee, so we bid him farewell.

A little dismayed, and with about 30 minutes until the designated lunch break, we decided to venture on to the street and talk to people there. The lure of dumplings in the nearby Shanghai eateries was probably the real drawcard. On the streets, a couple of steps from a bus stop, is where we met Jack. We approached him not because he looked particularly approachable, in fact he was far from it. It was just that he was there, and we were just there, and it was convenient. My partner and I just thought we 'might as well', even though in the back of our minds we expected a speedy rejection and to move on.

Jack's appearance and dress was a tad scruffy. He looked about 45, though he may have only been in his 30s. If we were to classify him, he might be what you call a 'bum', very elegantly put by my partner during our debrief session later. Jack was ungroomed, and his face wrinkled. His teeth were yellow-brown. Perhaps he smoked. Perhaps he drank, though I didn't smell it. Homeless, I am not sure, though surely not well-off. He was not like the homeless men that you see on George and Pitt St in the city, crouching with posters, heads dipped, busking, the ones people always avoid with their eyes. Jack was not that kind of 'bum'. He was more energetic, gypsy-like. He was in the midst of doing something and had a sense of purpose about him. He was waiting for a friend.

Jack told us he was a Jewish-Christian and when we asked what this meant, he told us that by birth he was Jewish. He had a Jewish mother, but had become a Christian in his youth. We asked him what he believed, as a Christian. He replied that it all centred on a guy called Jesus, who was both human and God, without which the Christian faith is hopeless. He told us that it was in God's grace and love that Jesus was sent to deal with sin on the cross through the ultimate sacrifice. It was all about Jesus, he repeated. He even told us about the Trinity and the Holy Spirit. So dumbfounded were my partner and I that we didn't know what to ask next. Of all the people we talked to, this 'bum' gave what was arguably the most accurate depiction of what Christianity is about (though not perfect). Even though I had reservations about whether Jack really meant what he said, I was certainly surprised at what he knew. It had turned our initial expectations upside down.

We asked him about his life. Unsurprisingly, he was evasive. He told us that his life was 'here and there'. I forget what he said about his family. At times he felt he was on his feet, other times not. He didn't give too many details. But he mentioned he had accepted the station in life he had been granted and that even in the hardest times contentment can still be found. He told us that a while ago he attended a Bible Study group another nearby church, but because he had to move around a lot, it was no longer possible for him to attend. He told us he appreciated the time he spent with that Bible Study.

Shortly later, his friend arrived in the middle of our conversation. The friend was like him, unkempt in appearance. They talked of some kind of job they had to attend to. Jack thanked us for our time and I gave him some of my church's contact cards and some pamphlets. And like that he disappeared, as elusive as ever.

My partner and I were late for lunch. And even if the dumplings were no longer warm, my heart was.

I don't think Jack ever contacted my church. But I don't ever think our exchange of words was wasted. I saw him again once at the train station on the opposite platform. He didn't notice me. A southbound train soon whisked him away, whilst I stood watching, waiting for my northbound train. Perhaps we will run into each other on another day. Only God knows.

I keep thinking that this trendy notion of compartmentalisation and classifying people, especially in evangelism, is overrated. Of course evangelists should exercise caution (if you're a solo female evangelist approaching a group of burly men, it is perhaps not the most pragmatic option). Yet, if we're asking for others to have open hearts about us and what we have to say, then we should have open hearts about who we talk to. I'm not about to start closing the door on people prematurely. Jesus didn't.

I'm ready to be surprised.