The Journal of Cotton Adams #13

July 2, 1739

Just rode into Skintag, Kentucky where I breakfasted with the senior minister, Mr. Loogy Raman, a pious and friendly man. At six in the evening I began preaching in the church and with uncommon liberty of spirit. My sermon was to a church filled with Calvinists and entitled, "We Calvinists".
My first point of the message was, "We Calvinists should be better witnesses" and from there I expounded on spreading, not only the Gospel, but the whole counsel of God.
After ten minutes, I went to my next point which was, "We Calvinists should be better worshippers", since we are more in a frame of mind to be humble at the Grace God richly bestowed.
I followed that with, "We Calvinists should be better servants", when a tiny man in a kilt and a set of bagpipes wrapped around his torso stood up and yelled,
"Yew dinnae huv to single us out laddie! Be ye wee or be ye leviathan…it's still th' responsibility of us ALL!"
And with that, he started playing his bagpipes as he walked out the church and into the dark forest.
I learned two things that day.
One, to chose my words carefully so as not to be misunderstood by anyone.
And two, bagpipes act as a protection. It scares any and every animal away so that one is able to safely arrive home.
I think it may work on wicked highwaymen as well.

Q&A #1

This letter comes from Gabe Blubberman in Schenectady, New York:

Dear Eddie,

My mother named me after the angel Gabriel and I have taken trumpet lessons since the age of nine. My question is this - When he announced to Mary the coming of the birth of Jesus, did he play his trumpet? I also noticed he is the herald who foretold the birth of John the Baptist. Did he take lessons or did this just come naturally? Do you think he likes to listen to Louie Armstrong or Miles Davis?

G.B.

Dear Gabe,

Gabriel is NEVER portrayed in the Bible with a trumpet at all. More than likely he can play any instrument he picks up. If I had been around as long as an angel I think I could play a few different instruments...including the banjo and bagpipes! Keep in mind though, why pick an earthly, man-made musical instrument when you have heaven-made ones that are the best in the universe! That would be like me choosing a small plastic fiddle over a Strativarius! Anyway, the only "man-made" things in Heaven are the wounds in Christ's body. Just be thankful you are named after a being whose name means, "Champion of God"!

Eddie

The Journal of Cotton Adams # 9

To his brother Clay, then a student at Yale college, New Haven.

Dear brother Clay, April 30, 1739.

I should tell you, "I long to see you," but that my own experience has taught me, there is no happiness, and plenary satisfaction to be enjoyed, in earthly friends, though ever so near and dear, or in any enjoyment, that is not God himself. Therefore, if the God of all grace would be pleased graciously to afford us each his presence and grace, that we may perform the work, and endure the trials he calls us to, in a most distressing tiresome wilderness where I am satisfied with but the memory of you. I also seem to remember you owe me twenty dollars.

I traverse in the most lonely melancholy desert, about ten miles from Motown, Kentucky; for the pending storm always makes me feel this way. I am now boarding with a poor Scotchman, Bagpipes McGee. His wife can talk scarce any English but, she plays the banjo like a monkey on a piano. Their home is very tidy and the lizards help keep the insect population to a minimum.

My diet consists mostly of hasty pudding, sunflower seeds and bread baked in the shape of a sundial. (If it gets cooked too long, they use it to tell time.) Sometimes I get a craving for an entire chicken and a basket of fries, a watermelon, a coconut pie and a pound of cheese.

I took time off from my circuit riding to catch up on my studies, sermon preparations and letter writing. I have prepared a sermon dealing with the pale horse in the book of Revelation who has power over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth. I call it, "A One Horse Open Slay".

As I was in prayer just now, I realized you do not owe me twenty dollars. You owe me twenty five!

I remain,

Your affectionate brother,

Cotton Adams

A Letter to Non-Calvinists

Dear Arminian friends,
Please don't take offense at the humor on this blog. If you are Christian, you are my brothers and/or sisters and we should be able to share a laugh together once in a while. If there were an Arminian cartoon blog in existence, I would certainly read it from time to time. But, to my knowledge, none exists! I even have a pretty good working title: "Arminian Antics". Okay, maybe not so good…the point is, you need to lighten up a little and enjoy life. I joke about every denomination here including my own. I use humor to poke fun at both Arminians and Calvinists and every degree in between. I don't expect everyone to agree with me 100%. But, please, take the time to understand what I am trying to do here.

I received the following letter from an Arminian pastor, Rev. Ion Plink, minister of the Church of the Coconut Grove in Fresno:

Mr. Eddings,
I urge you to use that free will God gave you and oppose your own postings. Jimmy Swaggart once said that Calvinistic Cartoons was one of the signs of the coming of Armageddon. I am concerned about your narrow scope and your trivial pursuit of the "hee hee ha ha's" as brother Hinn used to say.
Your thoughtless rantings and ravings have reached the nostils of God and He just might make you lose your salvation. I, myself, know that I can pray and it will be so. I have some of the keys of the kingdom in my coat pocket upstairs and believe me…I know how to use them!
Let me put it bluntly, if you continue to cause division in the sheepfold, I will pray you into either a local hospital or have you trapped inside a cave at Six Flags Over Texas. Your choice.

A man of Charismata and conviction,
Rev. Ion Plink

Now I ask you readers, is this truly a "Christian" attitude? Where is the love I ask ya? This is "sloppy agape" to say the least! He has said he will never read my blog again but, I can track who does…and he reads it every single day. Sounds a little hypocritical to me. This charismatic preacher sent me a box of plastic tongues two days later, with a note that read, "this is the only "gift of tongues" you'll ever get!"
That wouldn't be so bad if he had not sent a large box the very next day with 40 crushed tulips and a note that said, "These smashed tulips are for a sign unto thee…if I see you peeking in our church window or trying to walk through the front door…I will smash YOUR two lips brother man!"
I know there must be some non-Calvinists, some inconsistant Calvinists, some 4 or 3 point Arminians out there who would join our group. I beseech you, band with us and make this world a better place. A place where wee Calvinists can play their bagpipes freely and wee Arminians can laugh with joy whenever an EvangeCube bounces off their noggin. The birds will sing again and butterflies will form colorful words in the sky. Words of friendship and peace. Words of wisdom. In a language nobody can read.

I thank you.

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Fan Photo from Hondo McMillen

Lyrical Miracles Intro & Challenge

Wee Bagpipes McGee

Bagpipes McGee seems to have existed for generations, many believe him to be immortal. In reality, this wee Scotsman is descended from 20 previous generations of bagpipe players who all adopt the same persona. When a new McGee takes the task from his dying father, he swears the Oath of the Untuned Instrument: "I swear to devote my life to the musical overtures of Calvinist theology, songs of TULIPS, Predestination, mercy and grace, and my sons and their sons shall follow me". Keep in mind, all McGee's are tone deaf. They think their "melodies" are magnificent. You may see a wee McGee in Cotton Adams day...or in the present. Just keep an ear out or watch for a flock of birds starting to scatter in the distance. The wee man cometh.

Backing for Cotton Adams

The towns folk of Booger Holler owe Cotton a great deal more than the six week revival that was held there. He saved the town from burning down when Mrs. O' Leary's cow, Bessie Mae, knocked over a coal lantern, and her chicken, Henrietta Bea, knocked over a sack of gun powder and two cans of kerosene.

The Journal of Cotton Adams #5

July 27th, 1737
One thing about my old horse, Calico, you can fall asleep in the saddle and he keeps on traveling. Well, this afternoon, I did just that. I woke up near the town of Crittermill to the sounds of singing and shouting! There was a big tent in the distance with hundreds of people jumping and hollering at the top of their voices. Seems there was a self-proclaimed "miracle-workin', preacher man" by the name of Willy Poppit. He had a hand painted sign outside the tent which read, "Man, I Cure! The Willy Poppit Power-on-High Heaven-Sent Anointed Revival and Mobile Library". Another sign read, "Snake Handling 101" and on the tent itself, someone had written in bold red letters, "Name Your Poison…and I'll Drink it!" Baskets for money were being passed around as the white haired figure behind the pulpit was barking like a wounded dog on a trail drive. I think he knew who I was, for he made his way down, looked me in the face with his wild-eyed stare, and said…"Yabba Dabba Doo and YOU CAN TOO!" Then he started bouncing around, slapping people on the head. I had never seen the like. Suddenly, a wee Scotsman came in playing the bagpipes and the crowd scattered like blind field mice at a cat convention. A fire broke out and cattle stampeded, tearing down the tent as it burned. I barely escaped with my life. A few hours later, I rode ol' Calico back to that spot. Sadly, I found Willy Poppit's body face down in a nest of rattlesnakes and a note that read, "I drank the poiso…" I have never been able to find out what "poiso" is. It must be some kind of liquid refreshment or something. I buried him by a weeping willow near Cockroach Creek. Even though, he was a tad looney, I hope to see him someday. Less wild-eyed and snakeless.

Hoot Mon and a Wee Bit of Advice

Pastor and bagpipe worship leader, Bubba McDunebuggy, always uses the marquee to send personal messages to friends and family. Last week, he attacked The Sacred Sandwich Coffee Shop and Feed Store because they wouldn't give him a clergy discount on the coffee of the day.