This piece warns the American church that growing hostility from secular activists and political forces is making places of worship targets, recounting recent incidents and painting a larger pattern of pressure and danger.

This is an open letter to the American church that won’t mince words. Whether you thought politics and culture were separate from your pew, they are not; the public square is watching. By “interested,” I don’t mean curiosity about your beliefs — it’s a demand for compliance.

The push is aggressive and blunt. “Or else.” is not rhetorical; “This is a literal thing.” In Minnesota, alleged “anti-ICE” protestors burst into a service, stopped worship, and sent people fleeing the sanctuary while authorities weighed FACE Act implications.

The mob didn’t come with questions. They claimed the church harbored a pastor working with ICE and treated everyone present as guilty by association. The details of the allegation are beside the point: people were interrupted, yelled at, and publicly branded with extreme labels.

After the invasion, one protestor dared the Department of Justice to act, and national media figures rushed the scene trying to score headlines and shape the narrative; (he’s facing the prospect of charges, too). That mix of bravado and celebrity attention amplifies the threat.

Schools tied to Christian identity are vulnerable, too. Audrey Hale reportedly “listed” a Christian school as a reason to slaughter people there in Nashville, killing both adults and children because of an affiliation with a faith-based institution. That kind of targeting shows membership itself can be used as a motive for violence.

Flight isn’t a reliable refuge. In parts of Europe, posting scripture or preaching outside secular norms can draw police attention and legal trouble. Other nations offer harsher consequences: imprisonment, surveillance, and a steady erosion of traditional protections.

Across regions like Russia, China, and parts of the Middle East, the state can and does punish religious deviation with detention and worse. In Africa, Christians too often face kidnappings and public killings, taken from homes and churches without legal recourse.

Violence here at home has also struck political conservatives. Charlie Kirk’s killing became a stark moment for many on the right, layered on top of other violent episodes aimed at public figures. Conservatives link those events to assassination attempts on high-profile leaders, attacks on Supreme Court Justices, and past incidents like the Congressional baseball field shooting.

You can try to keep your services out of the headlines, but the public eye finds you. The Minnesota congregation did not seek national attention, and yet they were thrust into it by outsiders who demanded a public reckoning. That unpredictability raises the stakes for every church service.

A Bishop in New Hampshire captured a mood when, at a vigil for Renee Good, he said a new era of “martydom” had arrived. He was partly right about a rising sense of sacrifice, but wrong about who the targets will be; his words ended up validating a crowd rather than protecting vulnerable congregations.

Radical protestors tend to avoid places they consider sympathetic and instead descend on targets they believe, without evidence, are on the “wrong side of history.” That pattern is visible with attacks on Mormons and with antisemitic violence, where synagogues have been burned and Jews murdered in public spaces.

The message to the American church is blunt: you are a frontline. Europe, Asia, the Middle East, and Africa each face their own pressures, but the global tide of secular hostility often turns toward the most visible organized believers. The church cannot be bystander or refuge alone.

The political and cultural elite are pressing for obedience, and many of us who work in conservative politics see this from both angles. This is where we are now, and until the fever breaks, there’s no turning this ship around. That reality forces a choice about posture and preparedness.

How many incidents will it take before institutions and congregations change how they think about exposure and risk? The alarm has been ringing for a while, and the enemy is through gates once thought secure. You can either stand ready on your feet or risk being blindsided while asleep, because the world is pounding on your door, and it is not gentle or polite when it comes.