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The Twelve
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We're continuing our series The Twelve by looking at another disciple—James, the son of Zebedee. James is a fascinating figure: passionate, intense, and bold. Yet his story teaches us a crucial lesson about what kind of passion God actually calls us to cultivate.
To understand surrendered passion, let's first look at what passion without surrender produces. This past Fourth of July, we saw an incredible example of unhinged passion when thousands of fans without tickets stormed the Hard Rock Stadium during a Copa America match between Colombia and Argentina. People climbed walls, crawled through air vents, and stampeded—all driven by an overwhelming passion to see their team play.
One young man from our church had been saving to take his father, who had just moved from Colombia, to watch a game. They had legitimate tickets worth $1,500 to $4,000, but because of the chaos created by others' unchecked passion, they never made it inside.
Here's the truth: when passion isn't surrendered, it doesn't just affect you—it spills over and damages everyone around you. It affects your marriage, your children, your workplace, your witness.
Look at what happens in Luke 9:51-56. Jesus sends messengers ahead to a Samaritan village to prepare for His arrival. But the village rejects Him because He's heading to Jerusalem.
When James and John see this rejection, they ask: "Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?"
Think about that. James loves Jesus—his passion for Christ is real. But notice what's missing: grace for people. He hasn't yet learned to love people the way Jesus loves people.
This is where many of us get stuck. We're passionate about truth. We fight for sound doctrine. We defend God's Word. But somewhere in that fight, we lose tenderness. We become keyboard warriors, fighting arguments online while losing actual people in the process.
"Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person." — Colossians 4:6
When grace is absent from your words, your words become weapons. The Bible says life and death are in the power of the tongue. You can build someone up or tear them down. And if your speech isn't seasoned with grace, you become just a noisy gong—and no one hears what you're saying.
Maybe it's in your marriage. You're passionate about having the best home, the best family, wanting the best for your kids. But rather than your spouse experiencing godly passion, they experience your wrath. Rather than your children being drawn to Jesus, you're exasperating them and pushing them away from the cross.
God is not calling you to have less passion. He's calling you to surrender your passion.
I'll be honest—this is my biggest personal struggle. I'm a passionate person. I love my family deeply. I love the Lord. I love the church. But sometimes, in my passion, instead of building my wife up with tenderness, I tear her down. I shove the Bible down my kids' throats instead of leading them kindly to Jesus. In my passion to empower leaders, I sometimes belittle them instead.
My mother once told me something I'll never forget. My father was a passionate pastor and missionary, but their marriage struggled until the last five years of his life—when he finally surrendered his passion to the Lord. She looked me in the eye and said, "I don't want the same for you. You need to surrender your passion today."
But the problem doesn't stop there. After Jesus rebukes James in Luke 9, we see him again in Matthew 20. This time, James's mother approaches Jesus and asks if her two sons can sit at His right and left hand in His kingdom.
Notice the shift: James went from calling down fire to hiding behind his mother. It's comical, really. The "Son of Thunder" becomes more like a toddler of thunder.
But what's really happening? James is revealing that his passion—while still real—has become about himself. He wants to matter. He wants recognition. He wants to be close to Jesus, but he also wants significance and acknowledgment.
And we do the same thing, don't we? We're passionate about our homes, our businesses, our talents—but we also want people to see what we've done. We want to be acknowledged as the leader. We want the platform, the followers, the influence.
Even at church, we say we want to serve—but don't we want to be seen serving? Everyone wants a microphone these days. Everyone wants to be acknowledged.
But here's what Jesus teaches:
"It shall not be so among you. Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave. Even as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." — Matthew 20:26-28
James thought greatness was something you climb into—a position, a seat of power. But Jesus says greatness is something you kneel into.
Surrendered passion doesn't ask, "How high can I climb?" It asks, "Whose feet can I wash today? How can I serve? How can I decrease so that Jesus may increase?"
We live in a world constantly telling us to climb the ladder, to get more status, to be seen. But our God didn't tell us to climb the ladder—He climbed down the ladder for us. He came down and saved us. That's the God we serve.
Here's what's remarkable: Jesus didn't give up on James. Over the following years, James watched Jesus heal, preach, suffer, die, and rise again. He watched Jesus ascend to heaven, and then he was filled with the Holy Spirit.
Something changed in James. This wasn't the same man anymore. His passion didn't disappear—but it was transformed. Now his passion was surrendered.
And Acts 12:1-2 tells us simply:
"About that time, Herod the king laid violent hands on someone who belonged to the church. He killed James, the brother of John, with the sword."
That's it. Ten words. No drama, no miraculous escape like Peter experienced. James became the first of the twelve disciples to be martyred for the gospel.
The same man who once wanted to call down fire—who wanted position and status—now gives up his life for the One who gave His life for him. Not demanding a throne. Not seeking applause. Simply surrendering everything.
Surrendered passion isn't less passion. It's passion that says: "God, here I am. Use me. My finances are Yours. My heart is Yours. My family is Yours. May I decrease so that You may increase."
It doesn't demand its own way. It doesn't seek applause or need everyone to see what it's doing. It doesn't destroy people. Instead, it asks: "How can Christ be magnified in and through my life?"
This is the kind of passion your home needs. Husbands, this is what your wife and children need from you. This is what your co-workers need to see. Not less passion, but surrendered passion.
Here's something that struck me: We'll scream the names of soccer players and athletes who will never know our names. We're passionate about cars, restaurants, entertainment. We post about these things constantly.
But when it comes to the One who called us by name, who wrote our names in the Book of Life—where is our passion?
We can be enthusiastic about inviting someone to a restaurant, but hesitant to invite them to church. I'm not coming at you in judgment—I'm for you. I want you to experience the life God has for His children.
The kingdom of God needs you. It needs your surrendered passion.
It's fine to be passionate about music, art, sports, and hobbies. But that passion cannot supersede your passion for Jesus. Because when you've truly tasted and seen the goodness of God, you cannot keep quiet about it.
Jesus came in perfect, surrendered passion. In His passion for you and me, He:
That is surrendered passion. That is what we're called to mirror.
Maybe you're here today and you're already passionate—perhaps too passionate, without grace. Your passion is destroying the very people you're trying to help. You need grace.
Or maybe your passion lacks humility. You want to be seen, to be acknowledged, to have position. You need to surrender that to Jesus.
Or maybe you lack passion for Jesus altogether. You're passionate about the things of this world, but where's your fire for Him? You need to encounter His love.
But perhaps for the first time, you're hearing that the Creator of the world has passion for you. So much passion that He gave His Son. Jesus lived a perfect life, died for your sins, and rose again.
If you want to receive Jesus, confess Him right now in your heart. Believe that He is Lord, and you will be saved. His mercies are new every morning. Today can be a new beginning.
Lord, we're grateful that we can worship Your holy and precious name. We pray that the next time we enter this house, or sit in our cars, or gather in our homes, it would be evident that we have more passion for You than for the things of this world. When people look at our lives, yes, they might say "he loves soccer" or "she loves her family," but oh, how they see that we love Jesus.
Give us passion, Lord—surrendered passion before You. Give us grace and humility in our passion. Thank You for Jesus, who had perfect surrendered passion to the Father, making it possible for us to be called to new life in Him.
In Jesus' name, Amen.
