At a mosque in the Bronx, African immigrants who had been regulars have stopped attending prayer services. At a church just outside Boston, where most congregants are of Haitian descent, roughly two-thirds of parishioners have vanished. At multiple Baptist congregations in the South, pastors are considering locking church doors once services begin. Their common fear: That immigration agents will bust in and arrest congregants mid-prayer.

That’s because President Donald Trump recently gave Immigration and Customs Enforcement the go-ahead to conduct raids at houses of worship. That directive is the target of two major lawsuits, the second of which was filed Tuesday morning. Plaintiffs in the suits include dozens of faith groups, from Pentecostals to Sikhs to Quakers to Jews, who believe the Trump administration is trampling their religious freedom.

This might seem ironic, given that Trump has signed multiple executive orders purporting to “reduce burdens on the free exercise of religion” and protect people of faith. In reality, he and his allies have launched an aggressive assault on religious liberty — or at least, the liberty to practice a religion that isn’t precisely their own.

The offensive began with attacks on specific faith leaders. Trump lashed out at the Right Rev. Mariann Budde, Episcopal bishop of Washington, for having the gall to ask him “to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now.” Rep. Mike Collins (R-Georgia) demanded that she be deported. (Budde was born in New Jersey.)

Then, Vice President JD Vance accused the Catholic Church, without evidence, of improperly receiving “over $100 million to help resettle illegal immigrants.” Elon Musk laid into Lutheran organizations, declaring that DOGE would end allegedly “illegal” payments to the Lutheran groups that run food pantries and care for homeless people.

By far the most serious encroachment on religious liberty is Trump’s decision to overturn a long-standing directive against conducting immigration raids at “protected” or “sensitive” locations, such as schools, hospitals, day cares and churches.

The guidance had been in place in some form since at least 1993, under Republican and Democratic administrations alike. It allowed enforcement actions at houses of worship only under exigent circumstances or with prior written, high-level supervisory approval. The new Trump policy instead gives ICE agents unfettered authority to storm religious sites, constrained only by individual agents’ own “common sense.”

“This policy essentially has the impact of determining who has access to the message of Jesus, the life of the church and participation in the Lord’s Supper,” said the Rev. Paul Baxley, executive coordinator of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, which represents about 1,400 affiliated congregations nationwide. “Or if you’re Roman Catholic, the Mass, or if you’re Episcopalian, the Eucharist, which is supposed to be a meal for all disciples of Jesus — regardless of nationality.”

These concerns motivated the lawsuits arguing that Trump’s directive violates both the Religious Freedom Restoration Act and the First Amendment. “To take actions that make followers of Jesus hesitant to be in worship, to be at that table, is I think a really significant offense to the religious liberty of congregations and the core of the Christian faith,” Baxley said.

Baxley and other religious leaders I interviewed in recent weeks expressed concern not only about the infringement of religious liberty of immigrant worshipers, but of native-born Americans, as well. For instance, physically communing with the other believers in one’s community is a central part of the Quaker faith. “We lose something vital in our religious exercise when people are in fear and unable to gather,” explained Noah Merrill, secretary New England Yearly Meeting of Friends, another plaintiff.

In many religions — including my own, Judaism — welcoming the stranger or ministering to the refugee is itself an expression of faith. Now, clergy report that some U.S.-citizen congregants are reluctant to volunteer in English as a Second Language classes, feeding ministries and clothing distributions, for fear of putting a target on their own backs, too.

“This is exactly what religious liberty means,” New York Episcopal Bishop Matthew Heyd said at a recent Lower East Side church event. He gestured to the church volunteers nearby serving hot food to immigrants who congregate there weekly. Some immigrants in attendance wore crosses; others in a corner prayed to Mecca. “This is exactly expression of our faith.”

In Trump’s America, such an act of faith has become increasingly dangerous.

Catherine Rampell is a Washington Post columnist.