“It was like shooting fish in a barrel.”
This saying may be applied to any situation where you can get away with doing something because there is no opportunity for resistance or challenge. You have an unfair advantage over a ‘target’ and exercise your freedom to impose something on them whether or not they like it or want it.
Preaching on airplanes.
A Washington Post article (July 24, 2026) highlights the issues involved when over-zealous preachers have captive audiences on airplanes. Flying-high evangelists believe they are obeying a biblical command to preach the gospel anywhere and everywhere without restraint – then use contemporary social media to broadcast their perceived success.
One ‘influencer’ preaches on most of her flights and films herself to post to her ‘followers.’ A video shows her preaching as passengers were waiting to disembark from the plane. In just over a minute, she covered “the weather, Jesus, sin, hell, redemption and heaven.” Beneath the video, she added, “I just love a captive audience.”
Several observations come to mind.
First, this woman should apply to teach in seminary. Her ability to distil multiple, complex subjects into such a compact timeframe is desperately needed in higher theological education. (Okay, that was my facetious comment for the day).
Second, has this self-endowed, lofty preacher ever taken a minute of her own time to consider that her captive audience may not have a clue what her vocabulary means? Given statistics on current church and religious practice, it is safe to assume the majority of passengers will not be familiar with the actual content of what she is talking about.
Third, and the major focus today, has this winged preacher ever considered the moral and ethical questions related to “shooting fish in a barrel?” Are there human, even Christian, values that contradict her unbridled zeal?
“That would be my nightmare.”
These are the words of one respondent to an airplane preaching video posted on TikTok. “You can’t even walk away.” Other responses included, “I would open that emergency exit” and “This is why I drive.”
A problem with being ‘led by God.’
One plane preacher admits to some ambivalence about the practice. He is nervous but also “feels compelled to follow the biblical teaching to go into the world and preach the gospel to all creatures.” So he rests in being “led by God” as to when to do it. Which will be most of the time given his deep concern that anyone might be spending their last day on Earth without hearing the gospel.
Being “led by God” has been the source of much feast and famine in human history. Great benefits and even greater atrocities have come from this cosmic motivation. On the lesser scale of a small steel tube filled with people, being “led by God” raises the issue of individual freedom and responsibility.
A well-known saying is “Your freedom ends where mine begins.” Another version is “Your liberty ends where my nose begins.” In other words, you can punch around all you want until you get to the end of MY nose.
Preaching on stalled buses.
When I was young in evangelicalism, an itinerant preacher landed at our small church. He had unruly blond hair, a cowboy gait to his walk, semi-drawl in his speech, and intense focus on personal engagement (eyeball to eyeball) during conversation.
Wayne called himself an Apostle. He believed that, as Christians, we are all apostles. And he took the call to preach anywhere and everywhere quite seriously.
A highlight for him was a bus trip during a severe winter storm. The bus ran off the road (was it an act of God?) and everyone was stuck together for several hours. Apostle Wayne’s version was that he respectfully but confidently got up, told everyone the story of Jesus, and sat down. I don’t recall him saying how long he spoke but assume it was more than a minute.
Planes, buses, . . .
Why do these details strike such a chord in me? Perhaps the narratives fit with my own early conservative understanding of what it meant to be a Christian witness. An understanding that has evolved as the years went by.
Fish in a barrel at funerals.
Teaching pastoral theology for decades was an incremental learning process for myself irrespective of any benefit I was to my students. One recurring question was whether or not to ‘preach the gospel’ at a funeral service. My denomination’s dominant church culture has assumed that it isn’t even a question worth asking. Of course you would!
Without shaking the foundations of their faith, I compelled students to recognize it as a more complex rather than simple matter. The “fish in a barrel” image provided a vivid metaphor to examine the ethical issues involved.
On the one hand, there are several dispositions towards preaching the gospel at every occasion: The evangelical mission mandate, the preacher’s own unction, and Christian families who often insist that a clear challenge be presented at the funeral. They view it as an opportunity to proclaim the message especially to non-believer relatives. [A worthy question to ask is “Why are you so concerned in death if you never spoke the gospel to those people in life?”]
On the other hand, take a minute to consider the ethical side of the question. Is there a responsibility to respect those persons, especially non-believers, who attend a funeral to honour a friend or relative’s passing? Many of them have done something only a funeral could get them to do, that is, enter a church. Do you want them to leave with a ‘sweet aroma’ or a ‘sour taste?’
I sat beside such a man some time ago who did just that. He came out of respect for the person in the casket. And I confess to some discomfort as the pastor quite forcefully laid out the gospel message. I was caught between the two impulses of mission mandate and ethical respect.
One writer who was critical of airplane preaching said, “I don’t have any problems with people articulating their faith. But I think it requires a relationship and level of trust and a level of permission.”
“A relationship and a level of trust and a level of permission.”
Those words resonate with me. They are also foundational to the newer methodologies that evangelicals have developed to fulfil their perceived mission. Friendship evangelism, lifestyle evangelism and other approaches are considerably less intrusive and abrasive.
So, where do I land on this issue today? Two thoughts. –
First, for funerals – There should be a way to herald the deceased’s faith life as a desirable example without bludgeoning the audience with a cudgel of damning Scripture and hellfire exhortations.
Second, for planes, trains, and buses – If you are impelled to preach the gospel without restraint, perhaps consider doing so on a street corner where your audience, if offended or not interested, has the option to walk away.