By Virginia Rendler
On July 4, I attended the Womaen’s Caucus Dinner to hear Heidi Ramer share about her mother’s experience of sexual assault and trauma within the Church of the Brethren. If you’re not familiar with the story, I encourage you to pick up a copy of Her Words, My Voice by Heidi Ramer, which includes excerpts from her mother Karen’s personal diaries.
This is not my story to tell, but it is an important story and a part of our denominational history. I can share here what I took from the story, and how it felt to be in the room listening to Ramer’s description of grief and generational trauma.
Ramer talked about being welcome and worthy, which is the theme of our Conference. She posed questions to both herself and the audience: What do the words “welcome and worthy” mean? What does a welcoming home or church community look like?

And, of course, I couldn’t help thinking: How does that apply to situations of assault?
Ramer shared a definition of safety that connects to our Conference theme: safety means feeling like one is worthy of protection. From her talk, I gathered that both Ramer and her mother have had experiences of feeling welcome and worthy in the Church of the Brethren, and experiences of being made to feel unwelcome and unsafe. Unworthy of the protection of the church. Perhaps some of us can relate to that, in the Church of the Brethren or in other spaces.
I’m somewhat of a newcomer to the Church of the Brethren, and I didn’t know Karen’s story before this year. This denomination consistently makes me feel welcome and worthy, which is what first called me to be a member. It was painful to hear the stories of people who have not been afforded this privilege.
If you have ever felt unsafe, unworthy, or unwelcome in a space of worship, you are not alone. There is still work to be done. This work is hard, but our community is worthy of the rewards of this difficult reckoning. And if you have had the privilege, as I have, of feeling safe, welcome, and worthy in this church, I believe it is due in no small part to Karen’s words and her daughter’s courage to share them. I want to express my profound gratitude to both of them, especially as a young woman in the church.
In 2001, Ramer received her mother’s journals, telling Karen’s life story in “immaculate detail.” She shared the question this raised for her: Was receiving this story, this painful truth, a treasure or a curse?
When we face traumatic realities together, we grow stronger, and our community becomes more connected. People like Ramer sharing their stories, or the stories of their families, give us a gift in the form of an opportunity. Opportunity for deeper and more honest connection to each other, connection to our shared humanity, and connection to our future and our past. As Ramer said, the truth strengthens and restores. But it can only do so when the truth is believed, and when lived experiences are given respect and weight.
This knowledge of one another’s suffering, that we as members of a faith community are called to bear together–what a curse, what a treasure. We need God to bear this curse with us, and to share this treasure–and we need one another.
#cobac2024