On my way home from work yesterday, a smartly-dressed young man came bounding up to me, his floppy fringe bobbing up and down as he ran. "Hello, I'm Brendan", he said enthusiastically, offering his hand in an untypical Korean gesture.
As a foreigner in Seoul, I'm often accosted in this manner by complete strangers. But there was something about this man; his uncommonly good English, his use of a Western-style greeting, which tipped me off that he was after more than a brief chat. Within ten seconds my suspicions had been confirmed. "I am a preacher", he told me, "would you like to learn about the Bible?"
This enthusiastic proselytiser was in luck, I'd had a good day at work, so he received a polite refusal. Other would-be converters in the past have been dismissed rather more curtly.
Such encounters with God's foot soldiers are not uncommon in this rapidly Christianising country. Roughly a quarter of South Koreans have accepted Jesus into their hearts, and this proportion is increasing all the time. Within a generation, it is possible that Korea will become Asia's second Christian country.
But even now, at only a quarter Christian, this place feels a good deal more devout than western Europe. Back home in Ireland, vitually everybody is "Christian" in a nominal sense, but fewer and fewer people attend church. But out here, where the faith is much newer, there is no such thing as a "nominal Christian", one is either a churchgoer, or one is not a Christian at all.
Koreans who believe in the Bible are much more enthusiastic about their faith than their jaded western brethren. The Jehovah's Witnesses are regular visitors to my door. Neon crosses dot the night-time landscape in my area. Singers in yellow sashes (just a few shades too light, guys) sing the Lord's praises outside my local supermarket, as the rest of us try to get on with the important business of food shopping. Even in the nearby forest park, I've seen an open-air service being held and have been leafletted more than once.
When I first arrived here, I was repulsed by this brash evangelism. Coming from a country thats graveyards are full of those who were killed for believing in the wrong type of God, I felt alarmed by the religosity around me. I wanted to warn Koreans, to grab them by the lapels and shout: "No! This will all end in tears!."
I've come to see though, that such an attitude was probably mistaken. There is no reason to assume that Christianity will bear the same bitter fruit in Korea as it has in Ireland. If Christians become the majority here, it does not automatically follow that they will try to impose their morality on others through legislation, or form sectarian militias, or purge the Buddhists from the civil service. I don't think the day will come when Seoul City Council chains up the swings on the Sabbath.
Wherever it has spread, Christianity has always had to adapt to the existing beliefs and customs of its new adherents. Hence, Catholicism in Latin America is rather different to its European cousin. Likewise, Korean Christianity will, I hope, retain the tolerance of the Buddhism which it is busily usurping.
Christians in Korea can't escape several millennia of Buddhist culture in a few short decades, however much they may wish to. Neither, as a European atheist, can I deny the Christian heritage which is a very important part of my cultural background.
In a strange way, I'll always be more "Christian" than young Brendan. And I bet he's as happy about that as I am.