The horrific shooting at Annunciation Catholic Church in Minneapolis on Aug. 27, 2025, has left our hearts broken and our nation reeling. During a morning Mass celebrating the first week of school, two children, ages 8 and 10, were killed, and 17 others were injured — 14 of them children and three adults. The shooter, who died by suicide at the scene, targeted this sacred space with chilling intent. Many of us in North Carolina are praying for those grieving unimaginable losses in that Christian community, and this tragedy has likely reopened old wounds, deepened personal losses, and caused a profound sadness. Allow me, as a pastor, to speak to this sorrow through the comfort of God’s Word.
Boldly proclaiming God’s truth has often meant persecution of Christians and Jews. And it is not hyperbole but rather a somber fact to say that Christians are the most persecuted group of people on Earth today. This is not a surprising statement for readers of scripture. The Book of Revelation vividly depicts this spiritual conflict:
“And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she bore her child he might devour it. She gave birth to a male child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron, but her child was caught up to God and to his throne” (Rev. 12:4–5, ESV).
Having failed to destroy Christ, the dragon turns his fury against believers:
“Then the dragon became furious with the woman and went off to make war on the rest of her offspring, on those who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus” (Rev. 12:17).
Because of the nature of evil — targeting the most vulnerable first — women and children, the elderly, and the disabled are often the first victims of such hatred. Such spiritual darkness knows no moral norms or ethical limitations.
This horrible reality of spiritual warfare repeats itself throughout history. It did so again yesterday: two little children lost their lives, 14 others were injured, and three older adults were wounded by sudden, murderous gunfire that swept through the sanctuary of a Christian church as children worshiped. It is hard to imagine a more savage picture of pure evil. The murdering of children who were on their knees in prayer in a service of worship by someone intent on killing Christians, boasting of his hatred in his demented video by imposing a picture of Jesus on a human-shaped target, is undoubtedly a horribly vivid picture of the evil described in Revelation 12.
What you feel now is what I feel — a terrible sadness, immediate and overwhelming. We must name this reality as spiritual warfare, but we are also called to grieve with the parents of the children who lost their lives, the families of the wounded, the Christian community at Annunciation Catholic Church, and the broader fellowship of faith. As this tragedy is beamed into our homes, each of us shares in the sorrow.
How, then, does Scripture guide us? When Jesus’ teachings proved difficult, and many turned away, Peter voiced the cry of every believer’s heart: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). In times of confusion and loss, we turn not to ourselves or the shifting opinions of the world but to Jesus Christ, who alone offers truth that leads to life, comfort that endures in sorrow, and hope that death cannot steal.
The prophet Jeremiah, known for his bold denunciations of sin, was reshaped by sorrow when Nebuchadnezzar’s army destroyed Solomon’s Temple in 586 BC and carried God’s people into exile. In that moment, Jeremiah became a pastor-poet, giving voice to his nation’s anguish: “Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me” (Lam. 3:19–20).
Yet Jeremiah did not end in despair. Amid the ashes, he lifted his voice in hope:
“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him’” (Lam. 3:21–24).
The Hebrew word ḥesed — steadfast love — speaks of God’s mercy, grace, and covenant faithfulness. Jeremiah clung to God’s promises, gleaming beneath the ruins of the temple. We, too, cling to that promise in Christ, who bore our sins, was raised, and now reigns. The dragon may rage, but he cannot triumph.
As we mourn, let us join our voices with the hymnwriter Thomas O. Chisholm (1923):
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee.
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.
Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.
O Lord, in the sadness and sorrow of this devastating loss, we mourn with brokenhearted parents and pray for the healing of wounded children and adults at Annunciation Catholic Church. Grant us strength to join Jeremiah in proclaiming, “Great is Thy faithfulness.” In the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior, we pray.
