The Sunday-morning version
Hi — I’m Jet. On Sunday mornings I’m the director of the safety and security team at my home church: a forty-six-person volunteer crew running coverage across 6 weekly services, special events, and everything in between.
Who shows up this Sunday? Who’s covering the back door during the second service? Who knows the guy who walked the parking lot for an hour last week and never came inside?
If your team is anything like ours was, the honest answer is — it depends who you ask, and how lucky you got with the group text this week.
Running a team that size on group texts, spreadsheets, and a shared Google Doc is… possible. Lots of teams do it. We did it. It mostly works, until the Sunday it doesn’t — the shift swap that didn’t propagate, the new volunteer who never got the briefing, the person-of-interest note from last month that nobody can find when they need it.
Volunteer-run safety teams don’t fail from lack of effort. They fail from lack of adequate systems. The fix isn’t exhortation. It’s processes and tools that fit the way the work actually happens.
So I built both. The Safer Church is what I wished existed when I took the radio.
The day-job version
I’ve spent decades in product security — the kind of work where, if you do it wrong, somebody’s bank account gets drained or somebody’s insurance app leaks their address. Threat modeling. Secure architecture. Identity and access. Cryptography that doesn’t crumble the first time a researcher pokes at it. The unglamorous discipline of making sure the software you tap on at 6 a.m. doesn’t hand you to the very bad people trying to do very bad things.
What I’ve found, after all those years, is that the technology isn’t usually the hard part. People are. The way humans use a system, work around a system, forget a system, lose track of a system — that’s where the real risk lives. Good security design assumes people are people.
The same is true on Sunday morning.
Where those two worlds met
You can probably see where this is going. Imagine a security engineer with thirty years of pattern-matching on operational failures… volunteering on a Sunday-morning safety team that runs on a spreadsheet.
I held off building anything for a long time. Solving it just for my own church felt like overkill, and I had no interest in becoming “the church safety software guy.” But the more conversations I had with other directors at other churches, the clearer it got: every team is fighting the same fight, with the same patchwork tools, alone.
That just won’t do.
So in March 2026 I started The Safer Church — a real product, built like a real product. Multi-tenant. Mobile-ready. Hardened by someone who’s spent a career hardening the apps you already use. We’re currently in early alpha, dogfooded by my own team. The next two or three churches are coming soon. A self-service public launch is on the calendar for October 2026.
How I build it
Three things I won’t budge on:
Secure by design, not by patch. Role-based access. Audit logging. Multi-factor verification. Strong password hashing. The kinds of things that should be table stakes — and that I’ve watched whole industries treat as optional. Not here.
Built for the volunteer, not the procurement team. If a team lead can’t pick it up in a Sunday, it’s wrong. If a volunteer needs training to acknowledge a shift, it’s wrong. Operational software for people who have other lives.
Set it and forget it. Schedules recur. Reminders fire on their own. The platform should fade into the background until the moment it’s needed — and then it should be right there, where you expected it to be.
The why behind the why
I’m a Christian. I believe churches are worth protecting — not because they’re fragile, but because they’re consequential. They’re where people bring their kids, their grief, their hope, their hardest weeks. A safety team is one of the quietest ways a church loves its people. The tools that team uses ought to be worthy of the work.
“Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.”— 1 Corinthians 16:13
That’s the verse I keep in front of me when I’m building this. Vigilance and resilience — the two halves of every safety team I’ve ever seen do this well. It’s what The Safer Church is for.
A note before you sign up
There’s no marketing team here. There’s no inbound SDR. If you fill out the form, you’re emailing me — the same person who wrote this page, built the software, and stood in the lobby last Sunday morning checking in volunteers.
I read every reply. I answer every question. And when there’s room for your church, you’ll hear it from me directly.