It’s considered fashionable these days to have a Mentor; a Life Coach. Stories abound of people on the brink of ruin, lost in despair, having their lives transformed, set back on track by a mentor. It’s not rocket science, but it has often been misunderstood, indeed it’s not unusual for an abusive cult to have its origins in an appreciation of the need for mentoring; but the concept was turned on its head for the benefit of the mentor and the cost of the mentored.

The word ‘mentor’ is Greek for ‘enduring.’ It is a committed relationship between an immature person and a mature person in which the older offers support and guidance to the younger as he matures, or goes through a difficult patch, or faces new challenges.

Richard Rohr defines a mentor thus: ‘A mentor has a mature sense of himself; an inner authority that gives confidence to others.  He possesses a generous spirit that convinces them that they will not be abandoned.  He has the capacity for simple friendship; not supervision, and most certainly not domination.’

There’s a wonderful line in Annie Lennox’s song COLD: ‘Dying is easy it’s living that scares me to death.’ Every time I hear her sing it my old friend Fr Aidan Troy comes to mind. In my last book, The Jesus I Know, Aidan tells of his time in North Belfast as Parish Priest of Holy Cross when there was a spate of teenage suicides; that was in 2003 when 14 teenagers took their own lives. He told of his brave efforts to reach out to the youngsters of that deprived neighbourhood; the awful tragedy of hopelessness, the feeling that life is so empty and pointless that death is a viable option. It was Aidan whom I first heard describe suicide as a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and I heard him say, ‘I'd love to tell you it's over. I'm afraid it's not. I've got an awful feeling we might have more’ – sadly he was right; since May of this year in Poleglass alone, seven teenagers have taken their lives, and the great sadness is that it doesn’t have to be that way.

We will never know how many lives Aidan Troy saved by being a mentor to so many of the youngsters of the Ardoyne in the dark days of the early 21^st century. Nor can we tell how many of the seven deaths this year might have been avoided if they’d had a mentor; if someone had taken the time to listen, to care, and truthfully, it’s not rocket science; the kids have nobody to talk to, they have no role models, and the obvious question is, where are their parents?

If in leafy North Down where I live we had the same problem, we’d be lobbying our political representatives for funds for facilities or programmes to occupy and stimulate our desperate teenagers. We’d demand counselling for those for whom facilities or programmes are too late. We’d beat a path to our religious leaders demanding that they take a more proactive role in young lives. And all the while the answer is staring us in the face; one of the first things Jesus said to his friend Peter following his resurrection was, ‘Peter. Feed my lambs.’ I think he had true mentoring on his mind, for if each of us were to mentor just one person for whom no one else cares, there wouldn’t be a single lonely child in the world.

How many lives might that save?