Revival Falls on a Lonely Scottish Island

At ten o’clock that night, hundreds of miles away, Duncan Campbell sat on the platform of England’s largest Christian gathering, the Bangor Convention. He was to be the final speaker. At precisely ten o’clock two amazing things happened: Duncan heard the voice of his Friend, the Holy Spirit, tell him to leave the convention. “Leave now.” The message was surprising; in a sense, troubling. He thought the Holy Spirit had wanted him at the convention. At the same moment Hector came running out of the barn yelling, “He’s coming! He’s coming! God said he’s coming. He’ll be here tomorrow night!”

Duncan learned early in his Christian walk not to strive with the Holy Spirit—but he needed to be certain. Without others knowing what was happening, he prayed for confirmation. When the answer came, he turned abruptly to the convention’s chairman, “I have to leave,” he explained. “God is sending me to the Island of Berneray.”

Over protest, Duncan flew to Glasgow, took the train to Stornoway, and finally traveled by car to the ferry. Arriving at Berneray the next day, uninvited and unannounced, he stopped a boy, asked about the churches, learned the name of the island’s only elder, and said, “Go tell Hector McKennon that Duncan Campbell has arrived.” A short time later the boy hurried back saying, “Elder McKennon was expecting you today and has arranged for you to stay with his brother. He has called a meeting at the church at nine o’clock tonight and you are to address it.”

Duncan knew he had correctly heard his heavenly Friend—even though nothing significant happened in the evening service. At 11:00 that night the congregation spilled out of the church and starting walked downhill in the moonlight to their homes. Suddenly, Hector jerked Duncan’s arm, snatched off his hat, and said, “Stand, Mr. Campbell. God has come! God has come! See what is happening!” Duncan looked at the scene on the hill below them. The wind of God was blowing upon the people, scattering them like leaves among the heather. They were falling under the power of the Holy Spirit, wailing, crying to God. The old, the young, men and women, dropped on that bleak hillside and remained there until four o’clock in the morning. Their repentance and grief over sin groaned out of them into the cold North Sea air. Other islanders who had not attended the service became worried about the delay and came looking for loved ones. They found them weeping in the heather, were themselves overcome by the Spirit’s presence and joined them among the rocks. God had come to the Hebrides. That was the beginning.

A few nights later a group met to pray in an old farm house in another village where the people were still unrepentant. God’s power had not fallen on them. It was after midnight when a man suddenly sprang to the center of the room, raised his hand, and called loudly to God, Instantly, according to Duncan, “The stone farm house shook like a leaf” as the power of God slammed upon the village. Everyone at the prayer meeting ran out into the night, looking around; all the houses within sight had lights coming on—the entire village had been suddenly awakened. Duncan hurried to the nearest dwelling, went in the back door and found husband and wife face-down on the kitchen floor, seeking the Lord. At the next house, he saw the same. And again, at the next. Revival had fallen upon the town.

Tags: falls, island, lonely, revival, scottish

Category: Church History, Spring 2019