I have a niche hobby of looking at church websites.

I consider myself a super sleuth, combing through church websites to figure out their theology and politics. Though I am not especially religious anymore, there is nothing I love more than uncovering secret, conservative evangelicals. 

I’m not entirely sure where this love of exploring church websites came from. It was partly inspired by the important work being done by Church Clarity. It was also born of necessity. I’ve lived in Boston for over a decade where you must be able to read between the lines on a church’s website or social media as more conservative churches try to fly under the radar in this notoriously secular city.

As a scholar of religion, I’ve also long been interested in how churches market themselves — what they highlight versus what they hide in order to attract new members in the religious marketplace.

Unfortunately, a lot of churches don’t want to be upfront about some of their strongly held beliefs, in particular when they hold conservative views on the role of women in ministry or on the existence and acceptance of LGBTQ+ people. In Boston, in my experience, a church typically doesn’t want to come out and say, “Oh yes, we’re Southern Baptist” or “Oh yes, we believe women and gay people can’t serve in ministry.” Instead, these beliefs are manifest in subtler ways.

My friends know I love to look at church websites, and they ask for my help and advice when they encounter a church in the wild and need some insight into the church’s theology. A few recent examples:

• Last year, a friend received a mailer from a new church in her neighborhood. The flyer had vaguely evangelical vibes, but the church’s denominational affiliation or theology weren’t clear. She sent me a picture of the flyer, and I went straight to the church website and social media accounts. I started by looking at their pastors and staff and the congregation’s statement of faith. A few potential red flags, but nothing glaring. It wasn’t until I did a deep dive into their sermon archive that their conservative evangelical theology became clear.
  

• Last spring, I had a friend mention a church in her neighborhood that she always walks by. Again, she wanted to know what was up with this church, given she was seeing signs and ads for it all over the place. The church was very cool — trendy aesthetics, no outward indication of denominational affiliation. Another deep dive commenced. Once again, no clear red flags, but I kept looking. Soon I’d tracked down a copy of the church’s new member handbook, and there it was: a clear statement of their conservative theology, their stance on women in ministry, and their beliefs regarding LGBTQ+ people.
  

• This summer another friend mentioned a church the person she was dating was involved in. She couldn’t get a clear read of his religious beliefs or politics. This was a fun one because she also couldn’t remember the name of the church, only that it met in an old theater and had some sort of small groups that featured heavily. But with these few details and a couple of Google searches, I quickly found it. As usual, there were no red flags on the website, but enough evangelical speak that I was suspicious. It was another deep, deep dive. Here I traced it all the way back to the divinity school where the lead pastor received his degree — a very conservative institution, though you wouldn’t know this unless you thought to look it up. 

I have a fairly methodical approach to these searches, starting with the church pastors and staff and any statements of belief on the website. If needed, I’ll comb through sermon archives or any promo material for events or programs the church has hosted. I’ve found myself looking at podcasts and playlists affiliated with churches, and of course I’ll look through their social media accounts, if they have them. If it’s a new church plant, I might also look at the networks and organizations that support and fund them. 

Red flags I tend to look for? All white men in leadership positions. Or only men in leadership positions. Women in leadership roles but only those aimed at women and children. No clear statement on LGBTQ+ issues. If a church is not explicit about this, it generally means they have a conservative stance. In my experience, churches that fully support, embrace, and welcome LGBTQ+ people are more than happy to openly share that information on their websites.

A big part of the reason I enjoy this hobby is because I feel so strongly that it’s disingenuous for churches to obscure their beliefs or make them hard to find. It comes across as preying on vulnerable people who are simply looking for connection and meaning. If people aren’t familiar with Christian churches, denominations, and the nuances of Protestant theology, they easily miss these subtle red flags. They might attend, become involved or join a church that ends up denying their call to ministry or their very existence, dignity, and personhood.

People shouldn’t have to have a PhD in American religious history or have to mine the depths of a church website to understand their basic theological beliefs, particularly those beliefs related to women and LGBTQ+ individuals. 

It feels like a trap meant to lure unsuspecting people into the pews by making these churches seem more progressive than they really are. And while it is fun for me to explore church websites to dig up this dirt, I’d much prefer churches be honest and forthcoming about their beliefs so that people know exactly what they’re getting themselves into.