Here’s the text for the 15 September 2025 “Pause for Thought” I offered on the Breakfast Show with Sara Cox on BBC Radio 2. Listen here.

I am a shameless eavesdropper. Partly because I’ve got good hearing. Partly because I’m just plain nosey. But mostly because I’m genuinely interested in human beings. We are fascinating creatures.

And you can learn so much about us just by listening to what’s happening around you.

For example, I ran by a woman in Greenwich the other day, and I heard her say into her phone: “Why, Linda, why? Why did we let that happen, Linda?” (I thought, Lord, we’ve all been Linda).

Another day last week, two guys were getting off the train, and one said to the other: “They’re all being idiots! Every last one of them. And that’s exactly what I explained to Helen in one of my many emails”. God bless Helen. We’ve all been there, too.

Listening to people isn’t just a hobby of mine, it’s a calling. It’s what makes me a decent evangelist. Now I know – “evangelist” is a weird word with a complicated history. I remember walking in a Gay Pride parade in uni and being yelled at by so-called evangelists with Bible-verse placards, screeching that we would burn in hell.

For me, being an evangelist is the exact opposite of that kind of spiritual abuse. It’s listening for the good in the world, the kindness in people, the light shimmering through. When I notice those things and speak about those things, I can feel God moving.

In August I was at the Edinburgh Fringe interviewing stand-up-comics for my podcast, and I joined a group of Methodist evangelists at the Festival. Together we rolled a sofa-on-wheels up and down the Royal Mile and invited strangers to sit down and share a time when they were lost in wonder.

I thought we’d get a few extraverted-takers, but all week long, hundreds of people queued-up to be listened to, to sit down and tell stories – of falling in love, hearing music, losing a child or parent, seeing stars and signs and sensing the spirituality running through everything.

It was a sofa of miracles and I could have stayed there forever.

At one point, an elderly woman walked by. She was clearly caught up in the energy of the crowds, the thousands of Festival pilgrims. And I heard her whisper to herself: “My God! Everyone’s here.” I’m so glad I was eavesdropping, because honestly, that might be the best definition of heaven I’ve ever heard.

“My God! Everyone’s here!” In my opinion, that old woman was a true evangelist: listening for and speaking out the joy of human life and the goodness of God.