People find you at the moment they are looking
Somebody types your town and the word church into a phone at eleven at night. A website answers the two questions they have — where, and when.
A fair question, and nobody has ever really answered it for you.
For ministries that have managed without one
What it does
None of these need anybody at your church to be good with computers.
Somebody types your town and the word church into a phone at eleven at night. A website answers the two questions they have — where, and when.
The most asked question a church gets is the one nobody should have to ask.
A recording posted to a social feed is gone in a week. A website keeps every one of them, in order.
One page with your own bank details or QR code, and the money goes straight to your account — never through us.
A website is yours: your statement of faith, in full, in your words.
A church whose people read Burmese, Chinese and English needs a site that does all three properly.
The honest questions
These are the actual objections, not the ones a sales page invents so it can knock them down.
It is not nothing, and keep it. But it is not yours: the platform decides who sees a post, and a person who is not signed in often cannot read it at all.
That is the normal situation. If somebody can write a message on a phone, they can post a sermon, and setup is done for you.
The opposite. A large church is already known; a congregation of forty is the one nobody can find.
Prices start at US$69, and there is a supported-ministry programme for ministries that genuinely cannot pay.
No. Service times, an address, what you believe and how to give do not change from month to month.
Almost certainly not. Preaching, visiting and prayer matter more. This is worth doing when it stops people finding you — not before.
If it is worth doing