Snakes on a Plane
Jesus said to spread the Gospel. But did He mean like this?

The passengers on Alaska Airlines Flight 708 were already frustrated.
Their flight from Orlando to San Diego had been delayed when evangelist Whitney Lynn stood in the aisle and began preaching. She told the stranded passengers that God’s timing was perfect, perhaps the delay was protecting them, and Jesus wanted them to place their faith in Him.
A short time later, an airline employee said the crew no longer felt safe with her onboard and asked her to leave.
“I didn’t know the message of Jesus Christ was unsafe,” she proclaimed while continuing to film.
When I first watched the video, I felt a familiar tension.
Jesus calls us to share the gospel.
And sometimes that means speaking when staying silent would be easier.
But as I watched Lynn’s approach and her response after being removed, it was not what she preached that struck me. It was how she preached it.
I kept wondering:
Jesus told us to spread the gospel, but did He tell us to do it like this?
Or can the Good News become distorted by the way we choose to deliver it?
A captive audience
Lynn’s decision to preach on the plane was neither spontaneous nor isolated.
She has said that she preaches on most flights she takes and films those messages for social media. In one earlier video, she preached while passengers waited to leave the plane and captioned it, “I just love a captive audience.” She has even taken her message into women’s restrooms, recording and later posting the encounters.
She later told The Washington Post, “They have no choice but to hear the truth.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Because people on an airplane truly have no choice.
They cannot leave the room.
They cannot move several rows away.
They cannot politely excuse themselves from the conversation.
They are buckled into their seats while someone delivers a religious message they did not request.
Perhaps that feels like an ideal evangelistic opportunity. Everyone is gathered, and the speaker is guaranteed an audience.
But is a captive audience the same as a receptive one?
And is getting the gospel into someone’s ears the same as helping them encounter Jesus?
Sincerely wanting people to be saved does not automatically make every method biblical.
The message matters.
So does the method.
Lynn was not removed simply for saying the name of Jesus. She was removed after creating an environment the crew believed had become unsafe. On a delayed plane, a stranger loudly addressing everyone while disregarding the crew’s direction would make many passengers uneasy, regardless of the message.
When we proclaim a gospel of love while disregarding the dignity, boundaries, or agency of the people hearing it, they may hear our words about Jesus while experiencing something entirely different.
The question is not only whether Jesus was proclaimed.
It is whether the way He was proclaimed looked anything like Him.
When the witness becomes content
There is another part of this story we cannot ignore.
Lynn documented the sermon, her removal, her exchanges with airline employees and security, and what happened afterward. One video received millions of views within a day. Her website intentionally connects evangelism with social media and highlights the reach of her viral preaching.
There is nothing inherently wrong with sharing ministry online.
I do it daily.
Many of us use social media to reach people we may never meet.
But the camera changes the dynamic.
The passengers are no longer only an audience for the gospel. They become background characters in content created for a much larger audience. Their discomfort becomes part of the story, their objection becomes conflict, and the consequences become another opportunity to demonstrate boldness, persecution, or spiritual victory.
After Lynn was removed, she described the incident as spiritual warfare and said demons do not like the name of Jesus. She kept filming, confronted the employee who removed her, recorded security, and announced the incident to people waiting at the gate.
The pattern creates a closed loop:
Preach to an audience that cannot leave.
Film their reaction.
Interpret resistance as spiritual warfare.
Present the consequences as persecution.
The creator becomes both the bold hero and the persecuted victim. A positive response proves God is moving; a negative one proves the enemy is attacking.
But where does that leave room for self-examination?
Not every negative response to Christian behavior is persecution.
Sometimes people reject the gospel.
Sometimes they reject our methods.
And sometimes we experience consequences because we disregarded rules, boundaries, or the well-being of the people around us.
Peter warned Christians that there is no honor in suffering because of our own wrongdoing. Suffering while following Jesus is not the same as suffering after behaving unwisely and attaching Jesus’ name to the consequences (1 Peter 2:20; 4:15–16).
Calling every correction spiritual warfare can keep us from asking whether the Spirit may be inviting us to examine ourselves.
What about John the Baptist?
Some may compare Lynn’s approach to John the Baptist.
John was certainly bold. He preached repentance, warned of judgment, and confronted Herod despite the personal cost.
But John preached in the wilderness, where people chose to go hear him. He did not create a captive audience.
His message also called people toward tangible change—generosity, honesty, justice, and care for their neighbors (Luke 3:7–14). And while his ministry drew attention, John continually redirected that attention toward Jesus:
“He must become greater; I must become less” (John 3:30).
Biblical boldness is not simply speaking loudly in an uncomfortable place. It tells the truth, embodies that truth, confronts power, and points beyond the messenger to Jesus.
But what did Jesus do?
In every conversation we have here, I want to bring it back to Jesus and ask:
But what did Jesus do?
Jesus preached publicly too. He taught in synagogues, on hillsides, beside the sea, inside homes, and in the temple courts. He called people to repent and said difficult things that caused some to walk away.
But when Jesus looked at the crowds, He did not see a captive audience.
He saw people.
Matthew tells us that when Jesus saw the crowds, “he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36).
So He taught them.
He healed them.
He fed them.
He noticed those others overlooked.
Jesus did not simply speak at people. He engaged with them.
When He met a Samaritan woman at a well, He began by asking her for a drink. He crossed cultural, religious, and gender boundaries, listened to her questions, and allowed the encounter to unfold.
Jesus eventually revealed the truth about her life, but He did not begin by publicly announcing her sin.
He began with a conversation (John 4).
When a wealthy young man asked how to inherit eternal life, Jesus gave him a difficult answer. But Mark first tells us:
“Jesus looked at him and loved him” (Mark 10:21).
The man walked away.
And Jesus let him.
Jesus told him the truth without chasing, shaming, or forcing him to respond.
He gave His disciples similar instructions when He sent them into surrounding communities.
If a home or town would not welcome or listen to them, they were supposed to leave (Mark 6:11).
He did not instruct them to become louder or create a captive audience.
They were to proclaim the message faithfully while recognizing that the people hearing it still had a choice.
The gospel was offered.
It was not forced.
Didn’t Jesus rebuke people too?
Jesus was not afraid to confront people. He corrected His disciples, called crowds to repentance, and pronounced judgment over cities.
But He did not lead every encounter with correction.
His strongest and most sustained public rebukes were generally directed toward religious leaders.
They claimed to represent God while placing heavy burdens on others. They sought attention and positions of honor. They appeared righteous while neglecting justice, mercy, and faithfulness. They used religious authority in ways that made it harder for people to experience God (Matthew 23).
Meanwhile, tax collectors, Samaritans, women with complicated histories, and people considered religious outsiders repeatedly found themselves invited into conversations, meals, healing, forgiveness, and transformation.
Jesus never pretended sin did not matter.
But He did not confuse humiliating sinners with loving them.
Christians often defend harshness as “tough love.”
And love may tell difficult truths.
But biblical correction is relational, humble, and aimed at restoration. When Jesus encountered ordinary people—especially those already burdened, excluded, or dismissed—He consistently led with compassion.
Love does not delight in having a forced audience.
Proclaiming or Performing
This leads me to another question.
In a social media world where pastors, preachers, influencers, and content creators can appear almost synonymous, how do we know whether someone is proclaiming Jesus or performing faith?
Going viral can look like fruit.
Confidence can look like spiritual authority.
Controversy can look like courage.
Opposition can be labeled persecution.
A large platform can easily be mistaken for anointing.
But none of those things, on their own, tell us whether someone is aligned with Jesus.
Numbers may tell us that something captured people’s attention. They do not necessarily tell us that it reflected the character of Christ.
Scripture warns us that not everyone who speaks in the name of Jesus represents Him faithfully. Jesus told His followers to pay attention to the fruit a person’s life and ministry produce (Matthew 7:15–20).
Do their words and methods resemble Jesus?
Do they point people toward Him, or continually place themselves at the center of the story?
Are they forming disciples or manufacturing moments?
Do they welcome accountability, or interpret every challenge as an attack?
Does their ministry produce love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control?
Or does it consistently produce fear, spectacle, outrage, division, and attention for the person holding the microphone?
These questions matter.
Not because we are responsible for determining every person’s hidden motives. Only God fully knows the heart.
But we are responsible for practicing discernment.
That is why learning to read Scripture for ourselves matters.
Not random verses detached from context.
Not only the passages quoted in a sermon, caption, or viral video.
We need to understand the larger story, study how Jesus actually lived, and learn to weigh both a person’s message and methods against Scripture.
We need prayer.
We need spiritual maturity.
We need the humility to admit that boldness is not always faithfulness, popularity is not always fruit, and persecution is not the only explanation for opposition.
Jesus said His sheep know the Shepherd’s voice (John 10:4, 27).
But recognizing a voice requires familiarity.
In a world filled with sermons, sound bites, clips, platforms, personalities, and people claiming to speak for God, we cannot depend on someone else to recognize His voice for us.
You want to know the Shepherd’s voice amid all the noise?
You have to spend time with the Shepherd.
Self Reflection:
When I listen to a pastor, preacher, or Christian influencer, what helps me determine whether their message and methods reflect Jesus?
Am I spiritually mature enough to weigh what I hear against Scripture in its full context or am I relying on someone else to interpret it for me?
What practices would help me become more familiar with the Shepherd’s voice amid all the noise?
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Hi! I’m Torrie. Thanks for stopping by.
If this article encouraged you, provided language for what you’re feeling,
or challenged you, I’d love to hear your story in a comment below.


