Life 101: Lessons for a Practical Christian Life  
A study in the book of James
lesson #5: Real faith works.
James 2:14-26

Scripture:

What good is it, my brothers, if a man says he has faith, but has no works? Can faith save him? And if a brother or sister is naked and in lack of daily food, and one of you tells them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled;” and yet you didn’t give them the things the body needs, what good is it?

Even so faith, if it has no works, is dead in itself. Yes, a man will say, “You have faith, and I have works.” Show me your faith without works, and I by my works will show you my faith.

You believe that God is one. You do well. The demons also believe, and shudder. But do you want to know, vain man, that faith apart from works is dead?

Wasn’t Abraham our father justified by works, in that he offered up Isaac his son on the altar? You see that faith worked with his works, and by works faith was perfected; and the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to him as righteousness;”  and he was called the friend of God. You see then that by works, a man is justified, and not only by faith.

In the same way, wasn’t Rahab the prostitute also justified by works, in that she received the messengers, and sent them out another way? For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, even so faith apart from works is dead.

James 2:14-26      (World English Bible)

[.]

Life 101: Lessons for a Practical Christian Life  
A study in the book of James
lesson #5: Real faith works.
James 2:14-26

Bible Study:

We talk a lot about faith in church, mostly because the Bible talks a lot about faith.

Here in this letter to the scattered church, James suggests an interesting question.

What good is it to have faith and do nothing about it?

During the reformation, one of the fundamental truths that Martin Luther recovered from scripture was the notion that we are saved by faith alone.

As an example, here’s a verse from Ephesians.

We are saved by grace, and that grace comes to us through faith, not by our actions or our works.

That’s just one reminder that we come to new life in Christ by faith.

Only by faith. There isn’t anything that you can do to earn salvation. It’s a gift that God gives.

If you try to make it anything other than a gift, you begin to run into some problems.

At the time of the reformation, some people in the church had gotten things all mixed up and were trying to sell forgiveness for cash. It was a business. They promised grace in exchange for a generous donation.

People looked in their Bibles and said, “No.”

New churches rose up, built upon the principle of salvation by faith alone. That’s the heart of the reformation, and the churches that began at that moment in time still—at least most of them—still hold tightly to faith alone.

But then there is James, and some people have seen in James a conflict with that principle of faith alone.

But that phrase—by faith alone—it doesn’t mean that nothing else ever happens in your life. It only means that works can not save us. It doesn’t mean that we don’t work.

Even the Ephesians reference will bear that out. We are saved by grace, through faith, but we are saved unto a life of good works. We are saved so that we can live a life of good works.   

You can find all that in Ephesians 2:8-10. Faith brings us to God, but a new life results in new actions.

That’s exactly what James is saying.

So let’s give this section of James a title, and then we can look at the details. I’ll suggest a title. It’s short, catchy, and probably just a bit nerdy.

Faith works.

That’s my title. Faith works. Or maybe, real faith works.

Or something like that. However you say it, it’s faith and action.

Whenever we have two things that fit together like that, people will try to choose one or the other. So some people will concentrate on works and will need help with their faith, and others will concentrate on faith and might not get around to actually doing anything.

James has already spoken to the do-nothing people. They complain, they judge, and they pander to the celebrities in their midst, but they should be helping the helpless, like the poor, or the widows, or the orphans.

They have to endure their circumstances, learn wisdom, and resist the temptations that surround them in the world, and so on, and so on.

They have to do stuff. Tough stuff, because we live in a tough world. In his short letter, James will suggest a bunch of things that Christians ought to do. It’s like a rather long list of homework.

And you can almost hear people, as they read this list, trying to think up a good excuse.

I’ll just sit here and be spiritual. I have a note from my mom saying I don’t have to do all those things. While everybody else does the hard stuff, I’ll sit in this chair and develop my faith, kind of like working on my tan, except it’s faith.  

But it doesn’t work that way.

A simple example. Some problems can only be solved by actions. Someone comes to you needing food and clothing. What good is it to say a few elegant words and then send the person away?

The hungry people are still hungry and they are still cold.

Another quick example. (I like James—he gives easy examples.)

You can talk about faith all you want, but how will anybody see your faith unless you do something?

Okay, maybe this isn’t such an easy example.

Here’s the problem with the example. This isn’t about proof, because you don’t have to prove anything to anybody. God does the faith-proving. God will judge, so what you feel in your heart is something that only God can know.

But at the same time, faith and work are connected. That’s where the example hits home. Good works will show up in your life because it flows out of faith, naturally, by design.

Faith must move toward actions. If you really love your neighbor as yourself, then you have to try to solve some problem, sometime.

You have to do something.

One more example, and this one is interesting.

That’s the example of the demons. They have faith, James says. It’s a weird sort of faith, and it does them no good. They aren’t exactly saved. And they aren’t exactly nice, by any stretch of the imagination.

They know very well that God exists, but it doesn’t motivate them to change.

They have a kind of faith, but it is puny, defective, meaningless. It doesn’t result in right actions. Not at all.

So James asks, do you really want this kind of faith?

Of all the people who were reading his letter, most of them—or all of them—must have had much more faith than these demons. They could probably point to some change in lifestyle or thoughts or actions.

So he’s pulling out a really extreme example.

But the fact is that faith works. And if your actions don’t say something about your faith in Christ, then something is wrong with your faith.

Let’s look at a more difficult example.

Abraham.

The life of Abraham is a defining element of Jewish history. Abraham had great faith, and that faith is the source of the promise that became the tribes and the exodus and the promised land and the law and the temple and the people of God.

So any Jewish believer knows all about Abraham.

But Abraham is also known for doing something about his faith. God told him to go to a new country, and Abraham packed his bags and moved. And in the example that James includes here, Abraham took his son to the altar to sacrifice him, one of the most difficult moments of obedience listed in the Bible.

Just as a side note here, God was never going to allow him sacrifice his son, but Abraham didn’t know that.

What if Abraham had stayed home? What if he never traveled to the place that God had prepared for him? What if he never climbed the hill to that altar? What would we know about his faith?

And another, less complicated example. When the spies came into Canaan before Joshua led the people up to Jericho, a woman named Rahab gave the spies a safe place to stay. When soldiers came searching, she protected the spies and helped them escape.

And in return, her life was spared during the battle.

We don’t know much about her story. But we know one thing. She had faith, and she proved it by her actions.

So here’s the conclusion. Faith has to have actions to be complete. It has to do something.

Just like a body needs a spirit, and a spirit needs a body, faith and works need each other.

It begins with faith. It begins with God.

But it doesn’t end there.

How should we say it?

Oh, I remember.

Faith works.

[.]

Life 101: Lessons for a Practical Christian Life  
A study in the book of James
lesson #5: Real faith works.
James 2:14-26

Paraphrase:

What good is it to talk about your faith but do nothing at all about it? Is that faith? Really?

Give yourself a test. Someone comes to you desperately in need of clothes and food. What if you send them away with good wishes but give them nothing? Does that solve the problem?

No, it doesn’t.

And in the same way, if your faith does nothing, then it is worth exactly that—nothing. It isn’t a choice. You can’t choose either faith or works by themselves. They belong together.

If you want to know if I have faith, you can look at my actions. But if you have no actions, how does anyone know if you have faith? 

You say you believe in God. The demons do that much. They believe, but it does them no good. They shake in fear of God. Is that the kind of faith you want?

Look at Abraham, who was praised for having faith. The scripture tells us that he believed God, and his faith was counted as righteousness. But how did he show that faith? He placed his son, Isaac, on the altar. So his actions matched his faith.

In the same way, Rahab was considered righteous because she gave the spies a place to hide and sent them away in a safe direction. She had faith, but she also did something about it.

So here’s the thing. Just as life demands both a body and a spirit, your spiritual life demands both faith and actions. So if faith doesn’t work, it’s dead.

James 2:14-26       (paraphrase)

[.]

Life 101: Lessons for a Practical Christian Life  
A study in the book of James
lesson #5: Real faith works.
James 2:14-26

Something Extra:

by Mark Johnson

In case you didn’t notice, there’s a presidential election in progress. Stump speeches, mudslinging, and ever-changing polls are being tossed out like tootsie-rolls at a homecoming parade. Every four years we become larger targets for propaganda.

Apparently we have a lot of choices for change this year. You can choose to believe in a “fairy tale.” You can choose to put Chuck Norris in a cabinet position. You can even choose to make a former President the first male “First Lady.” Do you think Bill has really thought that through?

The thing is, no matter whom you choose, chances are that this individual will not receive most of the popular vote. Not that the popular vote means anything. Just ask Al Gore.

Why would it be so difficult to win the popular vote? The answer is: because politicians aren’t in the business of telling the truth. That’s not trendy. Politicians are in the business of persuading large groups of voters, and unless you’re running against Michael Dukakis, you’re not going to appeal to everyone.

But in every election, the story is the same. Empty promises followed by finger-pointing, blame-gaming, and flip-flopping. High on words, but low on deeds.

Now here is James. He writes “I will show you my faith by what I do.” It’s like a challenge to all Christians.

Paul tells us in Ephesians that we are “saved by grace through faith.” Now James is saying “See how lucky we are! Now go out and do something about it.”

We can’t just be satisfied with being saved. We need to go out and do some of the saving through the message of Jesus Christ. Carrying out your faith isn’t always easy or popular, but it’s the truth.

No room for flip-flopping here.

[.]

Life 101: Lessons for a Practical Christian Life  
A study in the book of James
lesson #5: Real faith works.
James 2:14-26

Story:

The Outcast

by Bob Freye     

He moved easily through the crowds, not even rubbing shoulders as he slid among them like a shadow. Usually he would stop and mingle, listening to the conversations and the unspoken thoughts. But at the moment he was on a mission.

She sat at a table deep inside a sandwich place, surrounded by books and notebooks filled with homework. She was almost invisible, shielded from view by a group of men in suits. They had stuffed themselves into a nearby booth and spilled out into the aisle as they talked loud and laughed louder about the game and the office and the assorted ways they had proved their mastery over lesser life forms.  

He breezed right past them and sat at her table.

She was different from the rest of the lunchtime crowd. Quiet and introspective, she was lost in her own world, ignorant of the noise all around her.

He heard her mention, “It was a good meeting.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“I should invite Beverly,” she said.

“Yes,” he said, “but she won’t come.”

“Really?” The woman looked up from her lunch and stared out at the crowd.

“She won’t like it,” he said, “all that God-talk.”

He shuddered.

“It’s fun,” she said without actually forming the words, “and it feels good.”

“It’s just church,” he said with a scowl.

“It’s fun,” she remembered, “and it’s friends, and we study our Bibles, and we learn from each other, and we care about each other.”

She was going to ask Beverly. He could feel it.

“You shouldn’t even try,” he told her. “A waste of time. She’s so busy, and you’re, well, you’re just not up to it.”

“Maybe not,” she wondered. “Maybe Beverly wouldn’t listen to me.”

“No one listens to you.”

“I could try,” she said, but her confidence was fading quickly.

“Don’t try.” He sounded comforting and supportive. “Just don’t try.”

He heard a noise from outside the shop, and it pulled him away from the table.

As the shadow retreated, the woman picked up her sandwich and said to herself, “I might as well ask her. The only way to fail is not to try.”

He wanted to go back, to tell her that she was making a big mistake, but he had something more important to attend to. Priorities must be obeyed.

He was driven by a purpose as strong as hate itself, thrust out to the sidewalk where people walked past him, and around him, and occasionally right through him. That happened all the time. He was a shadow, after all.

The clink of coins spun him around. A woman was dropping change into a guitar case, while a young man sat nearby and strummed along to a simple tune.

Nothing wrong with that. Money changed hands for all kinds of reasons, and he didn’t mind.

“I heard a song like that in church,” the woman said softly.

He cringed. That was the thought that had pulled him so suddenly outside.

“I just wanted to say that God loves you,” the woman said without a hint of doubt in her voice or her demeanor. Not a ripple of deceit. Just the warmest smile he had ever seen.

“I don’t know why I had to stop and tell you that,” she said, “but I just thought I’d say it.”

She paused for a moment, and then began to walk away. The musician’s eyes didn’t fill with tears until the woman had gone on a few steps, so she didn’t see.

The shadow caught up to her in an instant and matched his pace with hers.

“That was stupid,” he said. “That guy with the guitar, it probably didn’t mean anything to him.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Probably a waste of time.”

“Most definitely,” he said. “I don’t know why you bother.”

“Sometimes I don’t either. I think the Spirit is trying to tell me to do something, but how do you know?”

“Just ignore him,” he said, allowing himself just a little malice in his voice. “That’s what I do.”

“He speaks to you, too?”

“Yes, he speaks,” the shadow hissed. “And it makes my ears bleed!”

“Wait a minute!”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him, face to face.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being recognized.

Maybe because in a small way he was ashamed of the twisted figure he had become, his face warped into a grimace, his fingers gnarled and brittle like dead twigs, his skin discolored by so many wounds that he had lost count.

People usually didn’t see him like this. They rarely saw him at all.

But she did.

“Go away,” she said, and immediately he was beaten backward by a gust of wind.

“He made you do something stupid,” the shadow lied. “You should be angry at him!”

“Go away!” the woman said, and the force of the words sent him tumbling across the sidewalk and into the street.

When he picked himself up, she was gone. But he could still hear her, off in the distance. She was praying, and the sound of the words throbbed in his ears.

A car rushed by, and the driver was singing along to some simple modern praise song on the radio. The shadow turned away quickly.

The car raced on, and the sound of the radio grew dim, but he could still hear something good and right, close by. Someone was sharing a burden with a friend, and they were teetering on the brink of praying together. On the other side of the street a man was gathering his thoughts after a business setback, remembering that God is always faithful.

And someone else was singing that simple song—was everyone listening to the same radio station?

He should have done something. That was his job. But he couldn’t. He just curled up in the middle of the street and pressed his hands to his ears and shouted, “Stop it!”

But it was no use.

[.]