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Christopher entered Lancing as a Music Scholar. He had a fine Treble voice and as an Alto sang one of the solos in the remarkable performance of the St Matthew Passion that we put on in Ludlow parish Church in 1943. I was of course Campling mi, to his ma, when I joined Lancing. The College had been commandeered, first by the Army for a disastrous six weeks, then by the Navy as HMS King Alfred. So, Field’s and Head’s House had a glorious year at Stokesay Court some 6 or 7 miles away from the rest of the School, which was based on Moor Park, south of Ludlow. I think I was something of an embarrassment to my older brother, as I was always in trouble for being ‘lippy’ to the prefects. But we survived and I have vivid memories of Christopher organising and conducting (at the age of 15) Haydn’s ‘Toy Symphony’; I think I was allowed to be a nightingale. Of much earlier memories I recall that we three, for we had a younger sister Mary, playing at Churches as Daddy was a Vicar. You can guess who was the Preacher: ‘Beloved, what I say unto you I say unto all: ‘BE GOOD’’. As he writes in one of his several books: ‘…my passion, throughout my professional life, has been to share the Christian faith; as an intelligent, affirming, all embracing way of life.’
You will see from John Hadley’s admirable obit he did indeed have a very full and effective life in the Church and indeed before that in the Navy and afterwards in ‘retirement’, even when in Hospital in his very old age he wrote a Carol and composed the music for it including flute obligato. Music was always a great part of life and we both much enjoyed our friendship with Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears when they used to come and stay at the Lodge. As to outside activities like us all, he was a great cyclist, played golf and took a great interest (having been born in Australia) in cricket. I remember well being very firmly ‘ticked off’ for mocking the game. In Field’s he became Head of House and School Prefect and would probably have become Head of School (as indeed I did in 1946) but was called-up unexpectedly. It was on the grounds he had read Ancient Classics (not particularly well) that he was posted to HHMS Kanaris, a Greek Destroyer in the Med; a dangerous posting during which he claimed to have read the whole of Browning’s ‘The Ring and the Book’.
Dear Brother, we shared many good things and some of those old War-time days are still very vivid in my mind. All your lovely family miss you very much, as I do. Michael.
Michael Campling (Field’s 1940-1946)
Christopher Campling, who died on 9 December 2020 aged 95, was a priest for 68 years. He had served as a naval officer, teacher, curate, school chaplain, parish priest, archdeacon, director of religious education, member of General Synod, and cathedral dean. For 67 years he was the husband of Juliet (who survives him); the father of Penelope, Angela, and Peter; grandfather, great-grandfather, and also theologian, apologist, author, poet, composer, pianist, singer, sportsman, educationalist, ecumenist, linguist, and friend and mentor to countless people.
Christopher was born on 4 July 1925 into a clergy family. His upbringing was strict but happy. He went to Lancing as a choral scholar. From Lancing he went directly into the wartime navy: first as a coder, then as captain’s secretary. This took him all over the world and included the Japanese surrender in Singapore. Summoned from his ship to a Selection Conference in Colombo, as he later wrote, ‘I was asked… what book I was reading. “Pride and Prejudice,” said I. “But does that help you to pray?” Thinking it over now, the answer is, “Yes, all books that help you to new experience, and new insights into the world, help you to pray.”’ This absolutely sums up his attitude to the faith, and to life.
He read theology at Oxford and trained at Cuddesdon, where he found the company stimulating but the teaching dull. By this time he had met and fallen deeply in love with Juliet Hughes whom he finally and joyously married in 1953. He served his title in the parish of Basingstoke where he valued the rhythm of daily worship and the traditional training, though he soon sloughed off such advice as, ‘when preaching at a funeral, never mention the person who has died’. He did a huge amount of visiting; planned and built a church; ran, with Juliet, an inspiringly imaginative youth club; and regularly drew over 300 children to a Sunday afternoon service.
Next, he became chaplain at King’s School, Ely, and Minor Canon of Ely Cathedral. He developed a new R.E. syllabus aimed, as he said, to ‘present the truth as I understood it, in a way that left people free to make up their minds… and what fun we had with the delicious Old Testament stories and the astonishing life and teaching of Jesus and the bungling history of the Church and the juicy ethical problems of the day’. He began to write a four-part course on the teaching of R. E., eventually published in 1965 as The Way, the Truth and the Life.
In 1960 Christopher was asked by John Dancy to return to Lancing as Chaplain. Here, despite some inevitable mockery, his pastoral gifts were appreciated by staff and boys. He began a long-neglected ministry to non-academic staff and, with Juliet, offered generous hospitality at their house at Hoe Court. Encountering a strong antagonism towards Divinity lessons, particularly in the Sixth Form, he devised all sorts of ways to enliven them such as dividing boys into small groups and letting them choose their own books for discussion; these included Russell‘s Why I am not a Christian and, of course, Honest to God. There were also increasing complaints about compulsory chapel attendance which at that time involved a rather dry, daily evensong and an archaic Sunday morning Eucharist at which the celebrant alone received Communion. He responded by initiating a much friendlier and more imaginative form of Sunday Eucharist but this – along with many of his other changes - was vehemently opposed by a phalanx of conservative staff, headed by Assistant Chaplain Henry Thorold. There were deeply unhappy divisions in the Common room and eventually a withdrawal of support from the Head Master (now Willy Gladstone) and the Provost. In the end, to his great dismay, both he and Henry were asked to leave but, to the great credit of both, and not long before Henry was “gathered to his fathers”, they were eventually reconciled.
He went on to be Vicar of Pershore in Worcestershire then Archdeacon of Dudley and Diocesan Director of Education, and he ended his official ministry happily, and much loved, as Dean of Ripon. He was elected to the General Synod where his frustration with entrenched ‘party’ attitudes led him to involvement in the Open Synod Group, of which he later became Chair. He was as upset when the Church of England rejected the two schemes for Anglican-Methodist reunion as he was delighted when it finally agreed to ordain women. In 1995 he retired to Worthing where he was able to renew and heal his relations with Lancing, serving for ten years as Chairman of the Friends of Lancing Chapel. In 1997 he published The Food of Love: Reflections on Music and Faith.
Key to Christopher’s teaching and ministry was his openness to new ideas and possibilities, and to different perspectives on faith. His motto was Jesus’ word to the blind man: ‘Ephphatha!’ – ‘Be open!’ His spirituality was solidly Catholic but he hated the narrowness which that word sometimes suggests. He never stopped learning and reading and thinking and growing. At around 90 he decided that he hadn’t taken Shostakovich seriously enough and so set about rediscovering his symphonies. At his parish church some would never miss a sermon by the now nonagenarian Father Christopher because he always had something new and interesting to say. A couple of years before he died, he changed his mind on transgender issues after hearing me describe my own son’s transition.
Yet his unwavering openness never got in the way of an unwavering and joyful faith. His last publication was a simple book of sonnets, inviting atheists and agnostics to reconsider. His funeral, despite the limitations of COVID-19, was a wonderfully moving and celebratory occasion with splendid music and contributions from all his children and grandchildren and numerous other friends from across the years. When, shortly before he died, his vicar asked him how he felt about his long life as a priest, he replied, ‘Oh, I’ve loved it!’
John Hadley Sanderson’s 1961-1965