Tony Campolo visits Leadership and Spiritual Formation Doctor of Ministry cohorts at Cannon Beach, Oregon, 2010.

Photograph by Portland Seminary via Flickr. Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic License.

“Just get on the bus!” Philadelphia was having a long teacher strike and Dr. Anthony “Tony” Campolo had organized a team of Eastern College students to spend an evening each week tutoring high school seniors in the city who were preparing for exams that would happen regardless of the strike.

Phyllis was a chemistry major and signed up to help. As they lined up to go, the thought crossed her mind that in Maine she had not spent much time with Black students. She approached Campolo and he listened compassionately as she explained, “I don’t know if I should go. I might be prejudiced.” He smiled and said, “Just get on the bus!”

In her freshman year, Phyllis went on a college spiritual retreat for students that Tony led early in the fall of 1972. He gave an invitation, and she would tell you she began her life with Christ that weekend. Campolo inspired her to start her own effort to be a transformer of culture by creating an organization called Christian Involvement. That led to a tutoring program and a Sunday afternoon mission to the residents at Inglis House – then known as The Philadelphia Home for Incurables. I met Phyllis during my freshman year over Campolo discussions at lunch and dinner with friends. That’s the way it was at that time with the 300 or so students on campus. Campolo’s fame was growing in the national and international community, but you could find him on campus a lot.

Media reports will remember him for his many books and videos, for his role as one of President Bill Clinton’s spiritual advisors, or for having gone through a “heresy” trial with the Christian Legal Society, or his public dialogue with son Bart about faith, or his work in Haiti. But I, like so many who met Campolo in the 1970s, will treasure those college years. We felt like disciples.

I first learned about him on his occasional visits to the Capital Area in New York State. He had a college friendship with Jim Meek who was a pastor in Clifton Park. I was a new Christian, and his descriptions of the Christian life were mesmerizing.  I remember my father coming away from those events telling Campolo stories to anyone who would listen. In my decision about a college to attend, I decided I wanted to study sociology, but what I really wanted was to study under him.

When I got on campus, it was apparent that some faculty and students were turned off by his larger-than-life presence. Some didn’t know what to do with him. Business students whispered that he was a socialist. But most were drawn to him. The Admissions Department loved him. At some point, most students took one of his classes on Marriage & Family or Intro to Sociology. The lectures were filled with content, but also in a style not unlike every one of his speaking engagements. He made us sociology majors take the GRE just to demonstrate that the program was rigorous.

After his 8 a.m. class, he would head to his office and on many Mondays would share the stories of his weekend speaking engagements. He spoke about radical Christian discipleship, but he was always both amazed and humbled when he would feel moved to give an invitation on a college campus and students would readily commit to that kind of Christ.

He ran for Congress in 1976 and many of us volunteered on the campaign. When it was over, he only lost by 425 votes. We were relieved that we wouldn’t be losing him, and he may have been too. He concluded at the end of the campaign that power and love are tradeoffs in politics. If you want to be a change agent to help people, you won’t have the power to do anything. If you gain power, it will only come by abandoning love. Only Jesus can hold power and love so close. He resolved that he could create more change outside a political job.

During those years, he convinced the futurist Buckminster Fuller to speak on campus. Tony hosted political debates (open to the public) in the school auditorium, always asking at the end for the candidates to talk about how their religious faith influenced their work. The answer was always, “It’s personal.” He and his wife Peggy would invite students to their home.  

Campolo’s influence extended beyond churches and Christian conferences. He eventually had a committee handle his speaking schedule because he had trouble saying “No.” He was a motivational speaker, sometimes to insurance company events. I was there when Tony had one agent come up front and he explained to the audience that one day “Frank” was in a competition with millions of sperm, and he made it to the egg to be the person he is today. And from there he went into a talk about the results of sociological study of senior adults and what they would do differently if they had it to do over again. 

He forced you to think about what Jesus would do, which led to his co-founding Red Letter Christians. He showed that simple ideas don’t always apply in every situation or solve every problem, but they change things. Simple choices can change your life. He insisted that Christians needed to not only be leading people to Christ, but also to be transforming the structure of society wherever possible. Ambulances are necessary, but we also need to find out what is causing the bleeding. He brought joy. His humor would draw you in and then he would grab your heart with a “Word from God.” He modeled storytelling that left listeners with pondering hearts. I can’t look at another person without seeing the person through the eyes of Matthew 25.

Phyllis and I married. Our paths would cross with Tony at conferences and through Christmas cards for years. I watched his video meditations during the pandemic, and I was preparing myself for this final goodbye. Each Holy Week I am sure I will hear someone say, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming,” and I will remember hearing that story when Tony Campolo started to tell it, before it was a book. His Sunday has come.