Lampstand is an editorial audit of your church’s website. We read it the way a tired parent does at eleven o’clock on a Saturday night, and the way an AI agent does when someone asks about you, and tell you where the two of them disagree — because they usually disagree for the same reasons.
Each of these is the same story told twice — once for the person reading the site, once for the model reading the site. The fix in both cases is the same fix. That is the whole product in miniature.
Indexes the homepage and answers, with confidence, 9:30am. Cites the homepage. There is no indication that another page on the same site says something different.
Searches for the church, lands on the “First-Time Visit” page (which is excellent, by the way), and reads 9:45am. Shows up at 9:45am. Sunday School has been going for fifteen minutes.
Reads the source of the homepage and finds wedding-planner copy left over from a Bluchic theme demo (“180+ brides and grooms,” lorem ipsum, links to femininethemesdemo.com). Tells the person asking that this is the church.
Visits the rendered page and sees none of that — the demo content is hidden by CSS. Reads the church’s actual welcome, which is fine. Has no idea their church is described to AI assistants as a wedding-planning service.
Drawn from real audits. Specific church names are kept private in marketing; the findings themselves are how Lampstand reads.
A generation of churches were told that being “found online” meant gaming an algorithm — keyword stuffing, consultant decks, vague promises about rankings. Lampstand rejects that frame. We are not in the business of helping you rank higher. We are in the business of helping you be found, understood, and welcomed, and we do that by editing what you say rather than gaming how you’re seen.
The agent — ChatGPT, Claude, Perplexity — is just the most ruthless reader available. It fails for the same reasons strangers fail. If a model can’t tell what time you meet, neither can the family that drove past your sign on Tuesday and went looking for you on their phone.
A designed PDF you can forward, not a dashboard you have to log into. Inside:
We don’t rebuild your site. We don’t write the new copy for you. We don’t pressure you to migrate to anything, and we recommend against a rebuild when the site is fine — which, in three of four recent audits, was the honest answer. Restraint is the product.
Skims for twenty seconds. Wants to know when church is, where it is, whether their children are welcome. Leaves if they have to work for any of it.
Reads your site once, in source. Cannot follow your nav. Cannot read text rendered only after a click. Reports what it found, with confidence, to a stranger who trusted it.
A general UX audit of a website from a firm like Baymard runs $3,400 to $9,700. A freelance copywriter reviewing five to ten pages of your site at typical rates lands somewhere between $1,000 and $5,000. A church consultant on retainer starts at $2,500 and climbs from there.
Most churches, faced with those numbers, do nothing — and the site sits, year after year, accumulating the same quiet drift it always has. Lampstand exists in the gap. The price covers the time it takes to read your site carefully, write the verdicts, and have a working pastor read every report before it reaches you.
Introductory price for the first ten churches. $299 thereafter. One-time. PDF delivered within 48 hours. Reviewed by a working pastor before it reaches you.
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