By Dr. Frances Murphy Draperย 
AFRO Publisher and CEOย 

Another week, another headline of blood spilled in a sacred space. This time, it was Michigan, where worshippers once again faced the unthinkable: gunfire in a house of God. A sanctuary meant for prayer became a crime scene. A place of refuge turned into a place of terror.

Corliss Fisher, of Flint, holds her great-great-niece Audrey Warner as she lights a candle during a vigil held at the Henry Ford Genesys Regional Hospital for the Sept. 28 morning shooting at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Grand Blanc Township, Mich. Credit: AP Photo/Ryan Sun

But letโ€™s be clearโ€”this is not just about Michigan, or about one congregation. It is about America. Violence is invading the very spaces that are supposed to be safe. Our sanctuaries, our schools, our grocery stores, our concert hallsโ€”all have become targets. No one is exempt. And unless we act, no place will be safe.

The latest attack in Michigan joins a tragic list already far too long: Charleston, where nine faithful were massacred at Bible study; Buffalo, where Black families shopping for groceries were hunted; Tree of Life in Pittsburgh, where Jewish worshippers were gunned down. Different locations, different victims, same deadly mix: hatred, division and easy access to weapons of war.

This is not random. It is part of a broader epidemic that has claimed too many lives and stolen too much peace. The sound of gunfire has become Americaโ€™s background noise, shattering lives in classrooms, workplaces, nightclubs, neighborhoodsโ€”and now, again, a sacred gathering place. That reality should rattle every conscience, whether or not you believe in God.

Communities of color know this pain deeply. Black churches have long been bombed, burned and desecratedโ€”from Birmingham to Charleston. Jewish families in Pittsburgh, Asian Americans in California, LGBTQ+ communities in Orlando, children in Uvaldeโ€”the list keeps growing. Different targets, same message: hate will find a way if a nation lets it.

We cannot ignore what fuels this violence. America has tolerated a toxic mix of racial hatred, political extremism and a gun culture that borders on idolatry. Too often, voices in the public square pour fuel on the fire instead of calming it. Whatever happened to civil speechโ€”the kind that builds up rather than tears down? What this nation needs is not reckless words but real protection for our children, our communities and the places we hold sacred.

Still, pointing to Washington is not enough. Laws matter, but leadership at every level matters too. In every community, faith institutions, schools and civic organizations must take safety seriously. Preparation is not paranoiaโ€”it is prudence. Ushers and greeters can be trained to be watchful as well as welcoming. Leaders must review and strengthen security protocols. Partnerships with neighbors and law enforcement should be built beforeโ€”not afterโ€”tragedy strikes.

At the same time, vigilance cannot give way to fear. If people of faith stop gathering, and if communities at large grow numb, then hate has already won. Our response must be steady and visible: to keep praying, keep teaching and keep showing up. Whether in a sanctuary, synagogue, mosque, temple, classroom or concert hall, the public square must not be surrendered.

So where do we go from here? We grieve, we demand accountability and we insist that laws value lives over lobbyists. We call out rhetoric that divides instead of unites, and we challenge leadersโ€”and ourselvesโ€”to return to a discourse rooted in truth, respect and responsibility. Whatever happened to civil speech, to words that heal instead of harm?

Michigan is only the latest reminder that violence in sacred spaces is not someone elseโ€™s problem. It is Americaโ€™s problem. And until America wakes up, sanctuaries will remain vulnerable.

What cannot be lost in the noise is this: communities will not be silenced. People will keep gathering. They will keep building circles of trust, hope, and love. Because when violence desecrates sacred ground, all of us lose. And until we choose both humanity over hatred and civility over reckless words, none of us are truly safe.