When Worship Goes Viral: The Hidden Safeguarding Crisis in Church Broadcasting
You should never have to choose between your faith and your safety.
As a safeguarding specialist, I spend my days helping organizations ensure they do not expose people who come in contact with them to harms or infringe on their rights to dignity and safety. As a Christian, I spend some of my Sundays in worship, sometimes with tears streaming down my face during a moving sermon, sometimes with hands raised in a moment of personal surrender.
Sometimes I see myself on my church’s social media: mid-prayer, eyes closed, vulnerable. I never gave permission for that moment to be captured, let alone broadcast to thousands. And I realized: I’m one of the lucky ones. At least I’m not running from anyone.
Take the woman in the third row, she sits in the same spot every Sunday, always arriving just as worship begins, leaving during the final prayer. She never lingers afterward. I noticed her because I’m trained to notice: the way she positions herself near exits, how she turns slightly away when the camera pans across the congregation during the live stream.
Maybe she’s fleeing domestic violence. Maybe she simply values her privacy. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that her face, captured in a close-up during a moment of tears and prayer, could be the breadcrumb trail that leads danger right to her refuge.
Churches have become media production studios, and congregants have become unconsenting extras.
The Consent We Never Gave… and this is what troubles me professionally, in any other context, what churches do weekly would raise immediate red flags. Imagine your workplace filming your emotional moments in a staff meeting and posting them online without permission. Imagine your therapist’s office live-streaming your sessions. The outcry would be instant.
Yet we’ve normalized this in churches. We’ve conflated “public worship” with “public broadcast rights.” These aren’t the same thing.
Walking into a church service doesn’t constitute legal consent for your image to be captured, stored, and distributed. In many jurisdictions, what churches routinely do may actually violate privacy laws and data protection regulations. The fact that it’s happening in a religious context doesn’t create a legal exemption.
I’m not anti-technology. I’m not suggesting churches abandon online ministry. It’s reached people who genuinely cannot attend in person, and that’s beautiful. But we can do this responsibly.
Practical safeguards churches can implement immediately:
- Wide shots only. You can show the energy and community of worship without zooming in on individual faces.
- Clear signage and designated camera-free zones. Let people know at entrances that recording is happening, and create spaces where those who need invisibility can find it.
- Implement actual consent processes. Youth programs manage this. Schools manage this. Churches can too.
- Focus on those who’ve agreed. Your worship leaders, speakers, and volunteers who’ve explicitly consented can be your on-camera presence.
- Offer both broadcast and non-broadcast services. Some megachurches already do this successfully.
This isn’t really about cameras. It’s about whether we’re creating spaces of genuine refuge or performative spirituality. It’s about whether we prioritize reach over respect, virality over vulnerability.
The irony isn’t lost on me: the same churches that preach about treating others as you’d want to be treated are broadcasting people’s most intimate spiritual moments without asking permission.
I shouldn’t have to choose between worshiping with my community and protecting my digital privacy. The woman in the third row shouldn’t have to choose between seeking God and seeking safety.
We can do better. We must do better.
Because the moment we broadcast someone’s face without consent, we’re not just violating their privacy. We’re potentially violating the sanctuary itself.