“Where the Streets Have Two Names”
I published these columns in the KV-Dispatch as a two-part series during March.
(Part 1)
When I first moved to Kenbridge two and a half years ago, I discovered an interesting phenomenon: Nearly everything here has two names. Roads, homes, buildings, stores – everything has a “published” name. But then there’s the “real” name of things, which usually is what that place or thing was called at some point in the past. It’s a name that still exists in the social memory, a name that is stronger than any current attachments. There’s no sign out front to announce these “real” names, but nearly everyone knows what they are.
I’ll give you some examples from here in Kenbridge (no one’s filled me in on the secret names in Victoria, yet). The grocery store up the road? Sure, the sign says “Farmer’s Foods,” but most everyone still calls it “Bill’s.” When I ask someone for directions, sometimes I’ll get something like, “you take the turn after the bridge,” “over by the charcoal plant,” or “past the handle factory,” places that no longer exist or that are now used for other purposes. For many decades, the roads around here had no names, only numbers; so on occasion someone will begin giving directions using numbers instead of street names. The Clarke family lives just up the road from us in a house that has three names, none of which describe the current owners – the Blackwell House, the Bed-and-Breakfast, or the “Porcelain Pond.”
If you’re a native “Lunenburger,” you’re smiling. If you’ve come here from somewhere else or if you’ve ever moved to a small town, you’re nodding in agreement. If you haven’t, you’re probably scratching your head.
While this practice certainly honors the long history of the “Mother of Counties” and of her communities, I believe it also serves as a mirror showing us who we are today. All these places live “in between” identities. They haven’t quite shed the history of the old name or its meaning, but they haven’t quite discovered (or lived into) their new name, either.
I think our county and communities are in a similar place. Once a thriving center for tobacco and railroad traffic, Lunenburg County is now in an “in between” place – not what we used to be, but not having discovered our new identity, either. We can look at this predicament in one of two ways – the end of a dead-end street, or a crossroads with a new opportunity to define ourselves.
As I reflected on this, I was reminded of a few people of faith who were given new names to live into. Abram, Sarai, Jacob, Simon, all were given new names by God – names they had to gradually live into. As we read their stories in the scripture, we find them “in between” identities. For example, Abram, the son of an “exalted father,” became Abraham, the “father of a multitude,” even though he didn’t yet have a single child to pass on the family name.
God knew what these men and women could become, and gave them names that they would eventually fulfill. But what if Abram got so stuck in dwelling on his childless past that he’d never moved forward in faith? What if Simon had decided he liked his old name better than “Peter?” Names don’t assign our identity, any more than your name defined who you were from the moment you were born. No, identity is discovered and chosen – or rejected.
Are we bold enough to accept a “new name” for our community? I’m not talking about renaming the county or the towns. I mean, are we willing to dream of what we could become – a dream big enough to reshape our identity? It’s not unheard of – communities all around our nation and world are having to re-dream their identities in light of our rapidly changing planet. Old industries have been replaced by newer ones, the internet has made it easy to “travel” around the globe in less than a second, the cities are creeping into the country, and the people of the world are literally at our doorstep. In a world that changes this rapidly, either we will have to define our own new identity… or it will be defined for us.
To be continued…
(Part 2)
Two weeks ago my column was about identity, and how the identity of our county is changing – whether we’re ready or not. Every place here, to an “outsider,” has at least two names: the name of what that place is now, and at least one name of what that place used to be. Maybe one day, the Blackwell House will be called the “Clarke House” and people really will call the grocery store “Farmer’s Foods.” Until then, all those places are “in-between,” just waiting to assume their new identity… just Like Lunenburg County is waiting today.
Lunenburg is in a time of change – that dreaded word that so many of us fear. And the fact is, change is not something we have to decide “for” or “against.” It’s inevitable. Change is a part of life – we’re changing from the moment we’re born, and we don’t stop changing until we die. So our real question is not, “do we change?” but rather, “what will we do with this change?”
Last time, we looked at biblical characters like Abram, Jacob and Simon – each of whom was given a new name by God. Even though Simon was renamed Peter – “the Rock” – just a new name was not enough to transform Simon’s very strong character. If we didn’t know the end of the story, we might be tempted to think of Peter as a weakness in Jesus’ plan, not a strength!
But Jesus knew Peter intimately, and where others might have seen a weakness, Jesus saw hidden strengths. Others saw stubbornness; Jesus saw the tenacity Peter would need in the face of persecution. Others saw impulsiveness; Jesus saw a quick mind and an ability to adapt. Others saw brashness; Jesus saw courage and boldness that would make Peter an effective preacher. The attributes that made Peter such a strong leader were already present. Jesus simply gave Simon a new name that reflected the best of the strengths God had given him, and challenged Peter to become the leader God was shaping him to be.
What strengths do we have as a small-town, rural community? What things can we claim that other counties cannot? It’s easy to start dwelling on the weaknesses – we’ve lost a lot of industry, and tobacco isn’t what it used to be. Our economy isn’t as strong as it once was, and poverty is too common (and often overlooked). And there are still many walls that keep us apart – walls between races, towns, and families. But if we focus on these things, we’ve missed the strengths that make Lunenburg such a wonderful community!
Several of those strengths come immediately to mind: Lunenburg, the “Mother of Counties,” has a proud history that no one else can claim. The “Old Free State” has always had a strong (i.e., “stubborn”) and fiercely independent spirit, ready to go new directions while others lingered behind. The pace of life here is a refreshing change from the hectic bustle of the city. The air is clean and clear (most of the time!), and it’s a quiet and safe place to live and to have a family. I’ve only lived here a little more than two years, and I recognize these strengths; you can probably think of many more.
A new identity for Lunenburg and her towns doesn’t have to be handed down from the capitol building in Richmond. It doesn’t have to be re-invented from the ground up. Our new identity is already present, in all the things that make Lunenburg a great place to live, work and worship.
What is that new identity? I don’t know, but I think God does. And I think it’s something the citizens of Lunenburg can discover together – if we’re “brash” enough to dream, “impulsive” enough to tear down walls and work together, and “stubborn” enough to endure a few bumps in the road along the way.
Jon Parks is pastor of Kenbridge Baptist Church. He welcomes your thoughts about these matters, and suggestions for issues to write about in the future. He can be contacted by email at jon@kenbridgebaptist.org, or by postal mail at P.O. Box 445, Kenbridge, VA 23944.
