It's a fantastic quandary, the responsibilities of being Pagan in the world - one that I think has already evoked some really grokkin' examination by the community, and requires a constant reevaluation of whether and how we already do this work - the work of Pagan evangelization. 

I think it's critical to point out that, as noted by the above definitions, evangelism (spreading Good News), and proselytizing (the act of persuading and converting another to one's religion or point of view) are not the same thing, though we (and other folks) certainly associate them with one another.  Proselytization requires the belief that your own system of theology or worldview is superior to all others, and therefore it becomes crucial to the believer that all people adhere to it (whether out of some misguided sense of "compassion" [to "save" others] or out of deep-seeded insecurity).  Therein lies the arrogance, harrassment, self-righteousness, and violence that we who have been on the receiving boot-end of proselytization have come to associate with it.  So my answer to the question "should Pagans proselytize?" would have to be: No, of course not.  As polytheists and navigators of the anarchic spiritual sea, I should think we"d appreciate the wild diversity of religious thought and expression and celebrate that so many beautiful and ugly ideas can be born out of the human experience of relationship (with gods, the Earth, ideas, animals, spirits, other humans...). 

But evangelism - ah, now there is a horse of a different color (a lovely chartreuse I think).  Evangelism is zeal.  Passion.  To possess the wonderful infused light/darkness of Knowing the soul’s home and then embodying that in the world, through words, art, dance, prayer, the Good Work...just being.  To be moved by one's religiosity to help others, spread joy, give sanctuary, feed strangers.  And to have the courage and skill to articulate these deep places when asked about them.  I never proselytize, but I aspire to be evangelical.  When Christian foot-soldiers come to my door or accost me on the street hoping to persuade me to give up my life of hell-bent idolatry, I used to try to explain to them the fundamental rudeness of proselytization.  Now, I just evangelize.  I tell them exactly why I love the way I love, why the gods I speak to are as close and dear to me as petunias or my own hands.  Less Thunderdome, more Good News.  I don't have the flashy showmanship of a good tent revival preacher yet, but I dig on the opportunity to practice.  As long as it's coming out of a place of authenticity, it can really rock and roll.

I am a strong supporter of the flowering of a Pagan Evangelical Movement.  Our mission work will be to protect trees and pick trash out of ditches, volunteer in our communities, give protection and joy to those in need, and create art in places that have lost their numinosity.  These acts will bubble up out of the wellspring of our religiosity, our dedication to Green Beauty, wrens, snails, woodchucks, maple leaves, anteaters and conch shells.  What's that?  You already do these things?  Huzzah!  You're a Pagan Evangelical.  Welcome, Brothers and Sisters!  And if others are inspired by these Good Words and Good Works, and wish to join us, we welcome them.  If they don't, we give them our respect and our appreciation, and engage them in lively debate when the situation calls for it (for always, we remember to engage in critical examination of ourselves, our theologies and our relationship to others, and we expect others to do the same, and grant us the same respect and courtesy we extend to them).  We remain open to the possibility, always, that there are truths to be learned, and sometimes perhaps we find ourselves converted, not in the sense of dumping our current theologies, but in adding new facets to the evolving jewel of our tradition.

Hallelujah.  Praise the Land.