As one grows older in years one tries to limit the number of dislikes in order to avoid becoming a grumpy old so-and-so. There are, nevertheless, certain dislikes that are not to be tampered with. In my case, the two that top my list are: when my mealtimes are messed around with and when I am forced against my will to take sides – to declare myself and, as a result, am driven into a corner and left no choice. This scenario gets worse when one is expected to decide not as one would wish to but as others dictate.

A little while ago these two dislikes came together. Big time. Briefly: a luncheon invitation turned into quite a nightmare when the promised meal was nowhere in sight by 1.30 p.m. My limit for lunch is 12.30. As always happens, people turn the habit of being late into a fine art. And I never learn and am always punctual. In the meantime, as I was nursing my seventh pre-lunch drink and trying hard to avoid eye contact with a group of young people, all newly wed, who were engaged in a rather heated discussion about – you’ve guessed it – divorce, one young man peeled off the group and made a beeline in my direction. “Dear God! No!”, was my fervent prayer. Which he promptly ignored.

“I am a fervent Catholic. I firmly believe in the sanctity and permanence of the sacrament of marriage. But (“Here it comes”, was my silent scream) in a referendum I will vote for the introduction of divorce.” “Well,” he demanded when I stared at him blank faced.”Why is that”, was my feeble opener. “Because I do not wish to impose my religious beliefs on others”. “How about others imposing on you by their voting for divorce?”. “They would not be imposing as my marriage would not be in question,” he retorted.

At this stage, and under normal circumstances, I would have delved deeper into the matter and introduced the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ: I am the Head you are the body. And I am the Vine you are the branches. This would lead further into the true meaning of the Communion of Saints reality where my grace is your grace – my sin is your sin. This is something we pay lip service to every Sunday when we recite the Apostles’ Creed but I doubt if we realise its true implications.

But I didn’t. I was cold, hungry and in an increasingly foul mood. But I felt I was in duty bound to give some sort of answer, especially as I know there are many like this well-meaning young man who are forming their conscience in this manner. So I said:”Listen to me and allow me to back-track a little: I am Roman Catholic. I believe in God. I believe in the mandate Christ gave the Holy Mother Church to teach and interpret the Scriptures – called the Mandatum and the Magisterium.

“Regarding the sanctity and permanent nature of the Sacrament of Marriage, Jesus is clear and explicit and the Church makes no bones about this fact. This is good enough for me and that’s the way it should be – no ifs and no buts. So, for me, I repeat for me, divorce is synonymous to poison. Now, I love and respect you deeply and would never consciously do anything to hurt you, so would I be true to myself and to you if you ever came up to me and asked me to administer poison to you and do so because you ask for it?”

The young man looked at me for a moment or two and said “If you put it that way...” and off he went without asking for more. It was just as well as I had nothing else to give.

I was not so lucky a while later when yet another young man posed the same question. When I gave the same answer he went ballistic and out came the usual venom we have so got used to of late.

I was variously and with great abandon called mediaeval-minded, fundamentalist, narrow-minded, insensitive, cruel, hypoctrite, taliban. There were others.

But by that time I had given him the sweetest of smiles I could muster and moved on following the Master’s instruction: Shake the dust off your sandles... prayer being the only answer remaining.