Paul Burke salutes Dr. Chad Varah (1911-2007), the extraordinary founder of the Samaritans charity, on what would have been his 115th birthday
Ever heard of Chad Varah?
Probably not. In which case, you may not be aware of an exquisite little church designed by Sir Christopher Wren called St Stephen Walbrook.
It sits quietly in the City of London, just round the corner from the Bank of England, the Royal Exchange and in the shadow of some glistering new towers of commerce.
And it was from the crypt of this church that the Rev Edward Chad Varah, its rector, founded something extraordinary.
As a young curate, he’d conducted the funeral service of a 13-year-old girl who'd killed herself out of desperation and shame. The poor girl thought she had a terrible sexual disease when all she’d actually had was her first period.
From that moment, Chad Varah wanted to do whatever he could to prevent lives being lost through loneliness, vulnerability and despair. So in 1953, he established an emergency telephone service which quickly became known as the Samaritans.
Unusually for a clergyman, Varah insisted that the service was completely secular. He believed that people suffering emotional distress needed, more than anything else, a means of discussing their issues freely and confidentially. Their greatest wish wasn’t for advice, diagnosis or religious instruction; they just wanted to be heard.
In the beginning, Varah did all the listening, helped by a few volunteers who were there to welcome people while they waited their turn. But almost immediately, as scores of people arrived at the church, Varah noticed that they were just as happy to talk to the volunteers as they were to talk to him.
This confirmed his belief that talking to a stranger can be easier than talking to family or friends, so he recruited more people to listen.
I’m not sure 'instant success' is the right way to describe a suicide-prevention service but if we’re talking about immediate and overwhelming demand, that’s exactly what it was. So many people descended on the church that The Samaritans had to become a telephone service which was quickly replicated, not just in London, but all over the country.
At Varah’s behest, the service – wherever it was - would be anonymous, non-judgemental, respectful. These may be enlightened attitudes that we take for granted now, but in 1953, they were almost unheard of.
Chad Varah’s other campaign, again inspired by the girl who killed herself, was for clear and truthful sex education in schools. From a 1950s clergyman in a time of awful repression, this was even more astonishing.
In later life, he was a patron of the Terence Higgins Trust, a pioneering organisation set up in the 1980s to help those living with HIV or dying from AIDs. I was asked to write a series of ads to persuade gay men to behave a little more cautiously to prevent the spread of HIV and that's when I first encountered Chad Varah.
I suppose I was expecting a 'trendy vicar', the sort of buffoon who begins a sermon with 'Let me tell you about a fella called Jesus'. But Varah was the very opposite – a straightforward, almost strait-laced family man and father of five. He saw it simply as his duty to do whatever he could to help the lonely, vulnerable and dispossessed, regardless of who they were or what they’d done.
And at a time when AIDS was routinely described by religious people as a punishment from God for the filthy sin of homosexuality, he was courageous, compassionate and principled.
Chad Varah led by example which had the positive effect of encouraging other good people to follow his lead. The number of lives he saved – and others continue to save – because he set up the Samaritans is incalculable and the original telephone with which offered the succour of silence is still on display at St Stephen Walbrook.
And it was here that he remained as rector until eventually retiring at the age of 92 and dying peacefully three years later.
His life was devoted to helping others, especially those who couldn’t help themselves. Despite his extraordinary intelligence and integrity he had no interest in ascending through the Church of England hierarchy, which is almost certainly why you might never have heard of the Rev Chad Varah.
But if you’re reading this on Thursday 12th November, you can silently celebrate the anniversary of his birth. And when you do, just remember something he was fond of saying —
“We have one mouth and two ears for a reason”
Enjoy The Oldie every month. Subscribe to The Oldie.
