Sunday was the biennial (I just realized I’ve finally figured out when to use “biennial” and when to use “semiannual.” Unless, of course, I’m mistaken) Walker Family Reunion.
This year’s big innovation was a family worship service, in the Old Stone Church which I’ve written about before here. In a way this wasn’t entirely appropriate, since the Walkers moved to Kenyon after the new building in town had been built, so we never worshiped in the O.S.C. But I was happy to cooperate anyway, because I just love doing anything in that historic pioneer building.
My brother and a cousin of my dad’s, both pastors, did the sermons. My job was to lead the service. It was a bit of a “dog’s breakfast,” as the English say, because I didn’t have the opportunity to coordinate beforehand with the people doing the music (guitar, harp and violin. The violin would have scandalized the people who built the church. To them, the fiddle was “the devil’s tool”). But we got through it, and everyone seemed to have enjoyed it.
My brother climbed up into the high pulpit to preach. Our cousin, an elderly man, just looked at it and shook his head.
I based the service on the old service we grew up with at our church. I thought the old folks would appreciate the chance to do it again. I didn’t anticipate that most of the old folks are gone now, and many of the people in the congregation were too young to remember that service.
Ah well.
Here’s an odd thing that was first brought to my attention by Aitchmark. It’s become something of a sensation in Sweden these days. The commercial (as you can see) features a rather gaunt model, singing a lovely, minor-key Swedish folk song, while different kinds of weather buffet her. They’re advertising a skin cream. The idea is that Apoliva protects you in the four-season arrangement Swedes have to live with.
What’s made the commercial news is that (apparently, unless it’s just a publicity stunt) a number of Swedes are complaining that seeing it terrifies them and is giving them bad dreams.
I have to agree that the ad is a little weird. The model goes from looking lovely (in an anorexic way) to looking rather sinister. However, it hasn’t given me any bad dreams.
But then I’m Norwegian and Dane, not some sissy Swede.
That video is terrifying. I feel as though I’m in a Ramsey Campbell short story, with some vaguely menacing evil getting ready to pounce on me. Gonna turn all the light on in the house now.
(FYI, I’ve no Swedish blood in me that I know of. Mainly English and Irish with a smidgen of Cherokee. Perhaps I’m shaming all three with my cowardice.)
Get ahold of yourself, man!
I’m surprised at how unscary that commercial is. I think she looks serious, maybe grim, at the end, not scary. Since I had trouble watching the video at first (there was an error), I looked it up with an image search. I saw one image of the Japanese revenge ghost who has come to American fame recently and feared the commercial would end with that. Now, she’s scary.
The violin would have scandalized the people who built the church. To them, the fiddle was “the devil’s tool”
Would they see anything wrong in using “the devil’s tool” in the service of God? There’s a long and honorable tradition of this, arguably starting with the Psalms, written in the same style as the works of idolatry from Ugarit.
These were pretty rigid people. They had a lot of extra-biblical rules (for historical reasons I won’t get into here), and sometimes I think they took the extra-biblical ones more seriously than the biblical ones. No gray areas allowed. Like a white shirt, “If it’s doubtful, it’s dirty.”
They had a lot of extra-biblical rules (for historical reasons I won’t get into here)
If you ever feel inspired to explain why they had so many rules and were so rigid about them, I’d be interested to read it.