“I am surprised that people professing Christianity, will believe nothing but what is comprehended by our vitiated reason and weak judgment; this argues the height of pride or ignorance” (Malcolm MacAskill, Presbyterian minister of the Scottish Hebridean Small Isles (1763)

The Eigg prophecy

In the year 1685 on the small Isle of Eigg, in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland, close to the Isle of Skye, lived an unnamed ‘seer’. This man (a Roman Catholic) prophesied that – “People of strange and different habits and Arms”, were to “come to the Isle and to use all acts of Hostility, as Killing, Burning, Tirling and Deforceing of Women.” Consequently, he begged the people to abandon Eigg. Most, however, laughed – although, due to his ongoing persistence, a few vacated to a nearby island.

In 1689 the seer died – still, with his last breath, sounding warnings to his friends and neighbours. Shortly thereafter his prediction came to pass. One of the people caught up in the subsequent events, due to his being on the island at the time, was the Rev John Fraser, the Protestant minister of a nearby island. He takes up his own story:

‘Within fourteen or fifteen days thereafter (of the death of the Seer), I was eye-witness (being then prisoner with Captain Pottinger) to the truth of what he did foretell, and being beforehand well instructed of all that he said, I did admire to see it particularly verified; especially, that of the different habits and Arms, some being clad with Red coats, some with White Coats, and Grenadier Capes, some Armed with Sword and Pike, and some with Sword and Musket.’

Divine inspiration or uncultured superstition?

Over the years I have had conversations with those of a cessationist persuasion who have written off incidents of foreknowledge like this as coming, not from an all-knowing God – but as being the product of superstition and mysticism in an uncultured community. Few, however (although I have met some), will go so far as to identify to whom they attribute such foreknowledge.

this is not a new bone of contention - especially in the Presbyterian-dominated Highlands and Islands in which I have spent my life.

It was after one such conversation about a year ago when it was once again alleged by a cessationist minister friend that post-biblical prophecy in the church of the Highlands and Islands was nothing other than as described above, that I was forced to seriously and honestly address such allegations.

Of course, if what he claimed is true, it not only brings into question the source of the spirituality and prophetic gifting as experienced by hundreds of godly people in the church of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, as well as in the wider community historically – but it also raises the (unspoken but inferred) possibility of a demonic source or influence among those who claim to speak prophetically today. Such a suggestion or assertion is of the utmost seriousness.

However - this is not a new bone of contention - especially in the Presbyterian-dominated Highlands and Islands in which I have spent my life, as is suggested by the quote at the beginning of this article.

As a result of his experience and conviction, the Rev Fraser set out to challenge what we would today call 'Cessationism' in his book 'Deuteroscopia', which was published posthumously in 1707. Another book, written on the same subject by a Skye man using the pseudonym Theophilus Insulanus in 1763, is extremely interesting in that he arrived at a conclusion (with which he was satisfied biblically) that allowed for the experience of dreams, visions and the knowledge of future events rooted in the revelation of the Holy Spirit - but potentially available to all. This certainly appears to be borne out in his research.

... it also raises the (unspoken but inferred) possibility of a demonic source or influence among those who claim to speak prophetically today.

A modern-day Seer

The conflict for many Christians, before the rise of evangelicalism in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland during the nineteenth century, when the prophetic gift could be quantified more clearly as 'of God', was how to address and account for the experiences which so obviously permeated the community before that time and also, later, beyond the bounds of evangelicalism itself.

This continued and continues to be an issue - as it was in the life of my late friend Norman Macleod (1926-2006), a native of the Hebridean Isle of Harris. Norman was brought up in a strict Presbyterian denomination and became a devout evangelical Christian - yet lived in a spiritual dimension and prophetic gifting far beyond the scope and reach of any comparable scenario.

One example of this was during the Falklands war in 1982. At that time Norman was regularly ‘transportedʼ to the conflict. One day towards the end of the war his wife was in tears over the ongoing conflict. A short time later Norman sat down to rest in a chair and as he closed his eyes was transported immediately to a low hillside above Port Stanley. His revelation at the time heralded the end of the conflict. He later wrote – “I said to her (his wife) - “Don’t worry, there will be no more killing, the war is over”'.

during the Falklands war in 1982 ... Norman was regularly ‘transportedʼ to the conflict.

Then he added a slight correction; “One ship will still be struck by one bomb, near its stern, but no life will be lost”. And so it was, to the very last detail. And yet even Norman struggled with the niggling question of 'source' throughout his life - irrespective of the fact that much of what he experienced was soaked with biblical imagery.

The Secret of the Lord

However, as far as evangelicalism in the Highlands and Islands in general is concerned, its rise, far from being the death knell for the dream, vision and prophetic role of the seer, as one might have been expected, was, in fact, the impetus behind a resurgence of these at a much deeper spiritual level. Such revelation would become known in such circles as 'The Secret of the Lord' - and be regarded with quiet and respectful awe and wonder by the vast majority of the people. A couple of examples must suffice here:

James Matheson (1805-1875) was born and lived at Clashnagarve, which lies about five miles northwest of Dornoch in Easter Ross-shire. James was, it is said, pre-eminently a man of deep devotion and prayer. During the Crimean War he rarely if ever slept in his bed ‒ spending extraordinary periods in prayer. Some men from the 93rd Highlanders, fighting in the trenches, saw, on more than one occasion, a strange man moving about the trenches. After returning home at the end of the war, some of these men were at a communion in Creich, when, for the first time, they saw James. They recognised him as the man who had appeared to them in Crimea.

She took the coin to a dying woman who was praying that God would not allow her to die till her outstanding debt to the local shopkeeper had been paid.

Gormelia MacLean was born in the small township of Fhivig near Shawbost on the Isle of Lewis. Gormelia lived a life of poverty and constant dependence on God. One day, as a young girl, while she was working on the seashore with some other women, she suddenly left and set off for the nearby village of Bragar. On arrival she entered the home of an elderly Christian, Malcolm Campbell. Malcom and a friend had in fact been praying for someone to come and help them. That day Malcolm had been given a silver half-crown and was convinced that the money was for someone else. However, with no transport, they were unable to travel and pass to coin on. Gormelia was the answer to their prayers. She received her instructions and took the coin to a dying woman who was praying that God would not allow her to die till her outstanding debt to the local shopkeeper had been paid.

Halted by rationalism

Literally scores of similar examples from the lives of humble, God-fearing men and women living in the north of Scotland in, predominantly, the nineteenth century, could be given. Indeed, such experiences dominated Presbyterianism in the Highlands and Islands until fairly recent times, when the cold hand of rationalism began to grip much of the movement.

Even today however, views amongst the leadership of the main Presbyterian denominations of the Highlands and Islands are mixed - with some violently and vocally opposed to what they see as extra-biblical revelation - to a quiet nod in many traditional quarters as to its relevance and importance. Of course, there are also others who make no secret as to what they see as the central role of these things in the life of the church - but they are a minority.

And it is to the relevance and importance of the prophetic and the deeper spiritual life both within the church and the community at large that ‘Seer-stories’ such as those related in this article seek to draw the reader's attention. They require to be considered by a world at large which has lost its sense of wonder and mystery as far as modern-day Christianity is concerned - at least in my culture.

Someone said recently that Christianity today has been robbed of its enchantment. Encouraging, faith-enhancing stories of the prophetic act as a small offering on the road to rediscovering a deeper spirituality and vision that may once more re-enchant our church and nation, to the glory of Christ.

Steve Taylor has compiled a book of authentic stories, from various sources, both old and of a more recent vintage – of Highland folk who had personal experience or knowledge of the prophetic being lived out in their lives. ‘Seer: Visions, Dreams & Prophecy - Isle of Skye & the Hebrides’ is available from Lulu.com (for £10.38 plus p&p).

Steve Taylor is a photographer, blogger, and researcher of Highland social history, based on the Isle of Skye (all photos taken by Steve).