Prayers Don’t Heal Bullet Wounds

Children die, worshippers bleed, office floors run red. We light candles and post prayers while nothing changes. How many more lives must shatter before America wakes?

Guest article by Michael Cohen. Follow him on Substack for more.

Mourners take part in candlelight a vigil at Lynnhurst Park following a shooting earlier in the day at Annunciation Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, U.S. August 27, 2025. REUTERS/Tim Evans

There’s a familiar routine that follows every mass shooting in America. Sirens scream. Families cry. Politicians tweet out their well-worn lines about “thoughts and prayers.” Reporters descend on a town that never asked for the spotlight. And the rest of us, numbed by the frequency, brace for the inevitable question: Why?

That question is supposed to make us feel better, like if we can crack the motive, we can make sense of the carnage. But what comfort is there when the answer is almost always the same? A disgruntled, angry, depressed, and mentally compromised individual with a personal grudge or grievance, armed with a legally purchased high-capacity assault rifle, unleashes hell on a place that should have been safe.

This time, it was a church. A church. Two children dead. Think about that: an 8- and 10-year-old. Seventeen others injured. Survivors left with scars you cannot see.

And I can’t help but think about Uvalde—about children trapped in classrooms while law enforcement hesitated outside. About Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, where teenagers texted their parents goodbye. The recent Park Avenue shooting, just blocks from my home, where a gunman nursing a grudge against the NFL entered the wrong floor of an office building and opened fire, leaving chaos and death in his wake.

The places change. The names change. But the bloodshed does not.

The truth is, America has stopped even pretending to look for answers. Politicians point fingers, advocacy groups dig into their trenches, and the rest of us are left with a toxic cocktail of rage and resignation. We know the script. We’ve seen it too many times. And yet, the body count keeps climbing.

How many more mothers need to bury their children before someone in Washington grows a spine? How many fathers will hold their son’s baseball glove, never to see him step up to the plate again? How many of these tragedies need to unfold before we admit that “thoughts and prayers” are not policy?

Why is this topic so untouchable? Why is the right to own an arsenal more sacred than the right of a child to sit safely in a classroom, or a worshipper to bow their head in peace?

We live in a nation where there are more guns than people. Think about that. Every man, woman, and child could be armed, and we’d still have weapons left over. If that doesn’t tell you something is broken, you’re not paying attention.

And yet, compromise is treated like blasphemy. To even whisper about common-sense reform is to invite outrage, attack ads, and threats. A sliver of moderation—just the smallest attempt at regulation—is seen as surrender. That’s the stranglehold the gun lobby has over this country, and it’s why parents will keep tucking their children into bed at night not knowing if tomorrow will bring them home.

Even the First Lady—who rarely wades into the fray—felt compelled to speak out after the Minneapolis school shooting. Her call to action was earnest, heartfelt, and yes, will probably be ignored as well. Because that’s the other piece of this tragedy: nothing changes.

Not after Columbine. Not after Sandy Hook. Not after Las Vegas. Not after Uvalde. Not after Park Avenue.

The blood dries, the cameras leave, and the system hums along, lubricated by apathy and campaign donations.

I’ll be honest with you: I don’t have the answer. I don’t have a clue how to untangle decades of lobbying power, political cowardice, and cultural obsession with firearms. I don’t know how to cure the loneliness and rage that metastasizes inside some people until it erupts in violence. I don’t know how to stop the next shooting.

But here’s what I do know: nothing will change until we demand it. Until we refuse to accept that mass shootings are simply a part of the American experience. Until we hold accountable every politician who shrugs their shoulders while children bleed out on classroom floors. Until we stop treating this madness as normal.

It should shame us all that we’ve let it get this far. That we’ve allowed gun violence to become the background noise of American life. That parents now rehearse active shooter drills with their kids the same way past generations practiced fire drills. That worshippers look for exits when they walk into a sanctuary. That teachers keep bandages and tourniquets next to textbooks.

I wish I could end this article with hope. I wish I could tell you that the deaths in this church, or the carnage on Park Avenue, will finally spark action. But I’ve seen too much. I’ve seen politicians turn the bodies of children into political footballs. I’ve seen leaders sell out their constituents for a check from the NRA. I’ve seen too many promises dissolve into nothing.

And so, once again, America mourns. We search for a motive. We post condolences. We light candles. We bury the dead. And then we wait for the next one. Because in this country, nothing—not even the slaughter of innocent children—has been enough to make us change course. And that truth may be the most devastating motive of all.

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