We hear much about stress and burnout today in a world which places ever increasing demands and responsibilities on the shoulders of all of us. Accelerating changes in society at large, coupled with contemporary social problems such as marital breakdown, vandalism, drug addition and the general rise in violent crime add to this burden. The caring professions – from doctors and nurses to social workers, probation officers, teachers, priests and chaplains – have to deal with the fallout from such problems often on a daily basis as they encounter both the victims and the victimisers in the course of their work.

I write as a teacher at second level who has been practising for more than thirteen years and who has found that the demands placed on me both by the insane points system and the social problems mentioned above have together increased my personal stress levels. However, this is not to say that I am dealing with delinquents – far from it, as the majority of pupils whom I teach are respectable and respectful young men – but for one reason or another, there is a growing minority of problematic youngsters in our schools. The reflections that follow are an attempt at outlining my approach to survival at classroom level as a teacher of religion and of Irish in a modern secondary school in Ireland. In short, they sum up my spirituality, my personal key to survival.

The calming of the storm
Spirituality may be regarded as a dynamic two-way movement: it embraces both the human search for God in the everyday events of life and the experience of God's constant reaching out in love to us, especially through his Son Jesus. Often in our struggle to make sense of life and to find God, we forget that God has found us and is reaching out in love to us here and now. We are frequently unaware of this second dimension because we are not open enough to God's abiding presence in our lives. Here, it is helpful to recall Anthony de Mello's description of spirituality as awareness – an awareness that embraces an openness and attentive listening to the divine at the heart of our life experiences.

One of my favourite passages from Scripture is the calming of the storm. (Mk 4:35-41). The scene is vividly painted: the disciples are awake, terrified and in danger from the storm while the Master sleeps. This story is rich in imagery: the boat is a metaphor for the post-Easter Church which is rocked by the storms of persecution. The distressed disciples cry out: 'Teacher, do you not care if we perish?' Jesus' reply to them is at once a rebuke and a statement of his solidarity with them: 'Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?'

Given the current climate of unfolding scandals within the Church, when the institution many hold dear is under attack (and quite rightly and fairly in some instances) we may feel that the Lord has no care for us, has abandoned us, and that the Church may seem to be at the mercy of the many hostile forces pitted against it. This piece of Scripture exhorts us and challenges us to be people of deep faith. It reminds us firmly that God is with us in his Son Jesus even when everything seems bleak, dismal and desperate. I am personally challenged by this passage to really trust in the Lord as I journey through whatever desert experiences life may confront me with. I constantly pray that I may be aware that I do not make the journey alone, that he, Jesus, is walking with me.

A pilgrim spirituality
It has always been recognised that the Christian is a pilgrim or wayfarer. This image still has a central role in our spirituality. The Fathers of the Church saw the pilgrim as one who is in via or 'on the way' to his/her spiritual homeland, namely, communion with God in heaven. Jesus, of course, was seen as the Way par excellence to our home with the Father. We are a pilgrim people. We are buffeted by many storms: traditional systems of meaning have crumbled and have given way to a pluralism of values; the overt injustices that persist between the rich northern and the poor southern hemispheres of our world; the increasing gap between the rich and the poor in our own country; the current scandals of sex abuse by clerics; the thorny question of the role of women within the Church etc. But we need to remind ourselves that we are not promised an easy path. The path of discipleship is costly.

Jesus reminded his disciples three times that being a follower of the Way was no easy task: 'If anyone wants to be a follower of mine let him renounce himself, take up his cross and follow me.' (Mk 8:34). In other words following Jesus means embracing a spirituality of the cross and of suffering. At classroom level this cross may mean many things: a feeling of frustration, desperation or even despair at times as to the efficacy of what one is doing; a sense of dryness and lack of enthusiasm for the task in hand – a desert experience; even a sense that one is fighting a losing battle against all the negativities the pupils throw so readily at the catechist; or worst of all, a feeling of burnout and sheer exhaustion.

This is where de Mello's powerful description of spirituality as awareness in all its dimensions comes into play. On the human level I try to become aware of what level of stress I am working under; the distinction between 'necessary' and 'emergency' stress; detect my own stress symptoms and my own unique source(s) of stress and then decide to practise the use of such coping mechanisms as a balanced lifestyle, a healthy diet, physical fitness and relaxation. On the spiritual/religious level I strive to become aware of the presence of God in my life, in all the ups and downs, high and lows that life metes out. This means that I must become a person of prayer. I need to set aside regular times where I can relax, become aware and listen to God at the very core of my being. To pray at all times as Jesus commanded us to do, we must set aside certain regular times in our daily schedule.

Food for the journey
I have described our spirituality as that of a pilgrim, of a person on a journey. On the way, we need encouragement and nourishment. Prayer, a meditative reading of the Scriptures, participation in worship and in celebrating the various sacraments of the Church, being involved in ministering to those in need, listening to my next door neighbour – are all sources of such encouragement and nourishment. Knowing that we share a common vision with others is personally a great source of encouragement for me. As part of a staff with a common goal, I can share my insight and frustrations knowing that I will be listened to. Knowing that discipline is a common task of all the members of staff and not just my responsibility alone, lifts a heavy burden from my shoulders. As the old saying goes: a problem shared is a problem halved. Likewise, as a member of my local Christian Catholic community, I worship in solidarity with my neighbours at times of joy and sorrow, times of dryness and of weekly routine. I know that no matter how I feel, I always come away with some help for the week ahead.

Self-worth and the love of God
In business and in education circles we hear much about resources, especially the latest resources and teaching aids. These are all excellent and, in the hands of a good teacher, efficacious. However, all teachers, and especially catechists need reminding as often as possible that we are our own best resources. In short we need to have faith in our own self-worth and in our own ability to do the job in hand. To believe in one's own self-worth is a much broader reality than being merely self-confident. It is the result and fruit of our experience of being unconditionally loved by God. When we experience this boundless love, we realise our unique and inalienable self-worth as children of God. Two foundational Scripture texts here are, 'We love because God loved us first' (I Jn 4:19) and 'the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit' (Rom 5:5). We are our own best re sources, then, when we are open to this unconditional love of God. This requires us as teachers to be people of prayer and deep faith. If, as Lonergan puts it, faith is knowledge born of love, then real self-worth is experience born of a deep relationship with the Lord.

Those of us who work at any pastoral level in the Church need little reminding that most people have difficulty appreciating their own self-worth and establishing an authentic lifestyle. Many get lost along the way, and take refuge in what has been termed false idols – whether drink, drugs, casual relationships, the fast life, worldly success, wealth etc. Other more subtle idols may be: my way of living, my views which may be really prejudices, my concept of who God is, my dogmatism etc. All of these idols prevent us knowing our real self, the real other and the real God. John's gospel had been called The Gospel of Relationships or even the Gospel of Encounters. When we encounter Jesus Christ we also encounter our real self in a special way, and of course, God whose Son he is. When one has experienced this encounter, none of the above idols will satisfy one's desires.

The primacy of hope
In all areas of life, not just in youth work or in teaching, we must necessarily be a people of hope and not harbingers of despair. People are bombarded with too much doom and gloom without our adding to it. On a practical level this means that as a teacher I begin with the basic assumption that young people are genuinely interested and open, and do want to learn about religion, spirituality and life. It would seem to me that this basic presupposition is applicable to all ministries no matter what the age or circumstances of the group.

Most, if not all human beings are open to religion in the broad sense of the word, to the questions of life and death, to what may be termed basic faith. Optimism is a poor and pale substitute for the deep hope that should be the hallmark of any Christian and which should pervade our approach to any task at hand. As a people of hope we inspire and encourage everyone we meet. We should never feel that we are carrying the weight of the world or the Church on our shoulders. Defence of the faith is not just my role – it's the task of all Christians in solidarity with each other. Let us realise with St. Paul that in Christ our very weaknesses can be turned into strengths (2 Chr n:9-16) and that 'we are often troubled, but not crushed; sometimes in doubt, but never in despair' (2 Cor. 4:8) as we follow the Way of the Lord who is our hope and the sure promise of everlasting life. We are, after all, an Easter people whose hope and trust in our Lord helps us endure the Cross.