This article is a chapter from the Rev. William De Arteaga’s forthcoming book, Saints, Heroes and Villains of the Anglican Healing Awakening.

To my knowledge no other Anglican church, or any other church, has such an effective and robust ministry of healing and deliverance as The Falls Church Anglican of Falls Church, Virginia (Ok, just a bit confusing, “Falls Church” is the name of the town, and “The Falls Church Anglican” refers to the church in the town of Falls Church).[1] At this church the healing, deliverance, and intercessory prayer ministries are woven into the core of church life.

Its clergy and members understand their calling as a “three streams” congregation. That is, a church where the different aspects of liturgical and sacramental worship, evangelical preaching and Christian good works, and the gifts of the Spirit operate and interact among various groups and ministries, according to their preferences and needs. To be specific, the gifts of the Spirit operate mostly among the healing and intercessory prayer ministries, and a few home groups, but not in the main liturgical services.

The town of Falls Church, Virginia, is a suburb of Washington DC., and many of the parishioners are executives, government employees, and current or former military personnel. Its parishioners and its excellent staff make it one of the most prominent churches in the greater D.C. area.

The Falls Church building in 2009. Originally built in 1769, with evidence of repairs to the structure (note the newer brick under the first floor windows) after the American Civil War.
Image: Wikimedia Commons

The historic Falls Church was established during the colonial period. Its first building arose in 1732. Later, George Washington was a warden of the church in the 1760s and oversaw the construction of the brick church building to replace the original wooden structure. The Falls Church served as both a church and recruiting station for the American Army during the War of Independence. Later, the church served as a Union hospital during the Civil War, as Northern forces quickly took over the territory around Washington, D.C.

After that terrible conflict, The Falls Church was restored to its original status, but did not really thrive, and Sunday attendance dropped to less than a hundred. But in 1935 the Rev. Watkins was called as rector, and by the time his tenure ended (1945) church attendance was in the 300s.[2] The Falls Church grew steadily from that time as the population of Washington D.C. continued to grow as World War II morphed into the Cold War with the Soviet Union.

However, The Falls Church did not become the prominent church it is today until the pastorship of the Rev. John Yates, who came in 1979. He and his wife were both from devoted Christian homes.[3] The Rev. Yates’ mother was prominent in CFO circles in the 1950s and 1960s, and her son John accompanied her at those CFOs on several occasions.[4]

There were only two churches on the island of Berneray, and both had been closed for years. The last pastor died. Others quit coming. Hector was the only remaining elder. The church deaths came about because passion for Jesus had been replaced with doctrines about Jesus. Finally, people lost interest in doctrine. Seemingly, Hector was the only one determined to bring spiritual life back to the island’s desolation. His wife told of the memorable day he locked himself in the barn, refusing to come out, until heaven answered. Several times she walked to the door, heard her husband thrashing about, groaning before the Lord, “I don’t know where he is, Lord, but You do!” She heard him plead, “Send Duncan Campbell to Berneray! Send Duncan Campbell to Berneray!”

Duncan was one of the great spiritual forces in the British Isles. He too was a Gaelic-speaking Highlander who came to the Lord in a phenomenal conversion before the first World War. That conversion had been accompanied by a powerful anointing of the Holy Spirit. Later, on a French battlefield of the war, Duncan lay severely wounded in the path of a cavalry charge, and he was trampled by the horses. Finally rescued, he was taken to a field hospital for surgery. The pain was incredible. On the operating table, the prayer he shouted in Gaelic was not for healing but for holiness: “Lord, make me as holy as a saved sinner can be! Make me as holy as a saved sinner can be!” Though his Scottish tongue was not understood by a single person in the tent, the cry brought such power of God upon him that seven men were saved.

Through the years, the anointing intensified as God “confirmed His word with signs following.” Duncan hungered for heaven and once during crisis sought a greater empowering of the Holy Spirit. Of the event, he said, “As I lay there, God, the Holy Ghost, came upon me. Wave after wave came rolling over me until the love of God swept through me like a mighty river! … I was so wrought upon by the Holy Ghost that I cried—and I laughed—and I prayed.”

Hector McKennon’s heart grieved for Berneray to experience the ministry of Duncan Campbell. As the day passed, Hector continued praying. Three times his wife went to the door listening.