This relationship is focused in verses 14-17 of chapter 2 of the letter of James where it says: “What does it profit, my brethren if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can this faith save him?” So faith by itself, if it has not works, is dead. The faith spoken of here is the Greek term “pistos” and the works are “erga”. The author asks what good is it to say that one has faith if there are no works to show for it?
The contrast is drawn between mere words and deeds which back up, or better yet, express one’s claim to having faith. The trouble is, of course, that it is easier to say that one has faith than it is to show or embody one’s faith in works. We often hear it said: “Faith without works is dead.” As James puts it: “Show me your faith apart from your works and I by my works will show you my faith.” (vs. 18) Somehow the usual contrast expressed here seems wrong to me. So called faith without a life that expresses and embodies it, is to be sure empty, and thus not faith at all.
Take another contrast. If I say I know Finnish, then I must be able to show
my knowledge by my speaking and/or reading Finnish. A claim to knowledge of something has to be in some way capable of being made public. If I say to my wife “I love you” that carries no weight apart from a life of action that conveys that love. There is something wrong with these traditional ways of putting this issue. The real contrast is not between someone saying they love us but behaving in unloving ways. The real contrast, in this context, is between saying one thing and doing something that logically contradicts what we said.
One problem here is that saying you believe, or love someone, is generally thought to be part of actually believing or loving that person. But it is only a part of it, and the contrast we want here is that between merely saying it and really meaning it. And that we really mean something we show in how we behave, which confusingly also includes what we say.
Perhaps the difficulty lies in the fact that there are occasions when simply speaking is adequate expression of what we think or believe and there are other times when simply saying so is not adequate. The author of James offers Abraham’s willingness to offer up his son Isaac as proof of his faith in God.
So here the criterion of having faith is still behavior, but in a negative form. Nevertheless, James remains adamant that somehow the mystery of real faith lies in one’s willingness to live it, not simply say it, which, of course, sometimes also requires expressing it in words.
This is all pretty tangled, but the central point revolves around the fact that speech is often a form of action. So, the confusion arises when we try to limit the forms of behavior simply to speech or to the behavior separate from each other. To turn the whole thing around, being faithful involves the whole person in action, and speech is also a form of action. But there can also be a disjunct between what we say and what we do or do not do.
As the philosopher J.L. Austin, in his book How to Do Things with Words, might have put it, we need to understand that we can and often do actually accomplish things with words. Speech, too, can be a form of action. However, in some contexts words are what are required and other times in addition to words appropriate actions are also required. And, yet in others, words are not required at all. Faith is as faith does. The other side of Austin’s coin is that sometimes actions speak louder than words.
I think what James is really getting at is that there needs to be consistency between our speech-acts and our other actions. Simply put, it’s not enough to say we love someone. This love must be bodied-forth in our behavior, including our speech behavior. At the same time, sometimes simple silent actions speak louder than words. To be sure, James’ point is that “actions speak louder than mere words.”

My biological father (Walt) and my Mom had split by the time I was born 90 years ago. She remarried when I was about 3 but because Chuck spanked me unnecessarily for wetting the bed and playing in the city dump my Mom divorced him when I was 5. During the war my Mom married George who was in the Army. After he came home from being stationed in Pennsylvania, he proved to be a selfish bum who shoved my Mom against the basement wall causing her to drop the groceries she had brought home after work. So, he, too, was history. I was 12.
My father-substitutes were my Granddad and several of my Mom’s cooks in her various restaurants, Art Smith and Bob Wilcox especially. My coaches also served as my guides and role models during Junior and Senior High School. In particular Pinky Erickson and Bob Dorre guided me a lot during the tough years. Sports stars, both national and local, inspired me to always do my best. Some school teachers, but only some, were also helpful when I was at odds with school.
My biological father, Walt, got in touch with me just after I was married for the first time during my college years. We had a number of good times together during those years and got to know each pretty well. We liked each other a lot. And, I guess we were a lot alike. One year he had been the top appliance salesman for Sears Roebuck, nation-wide. While I was in theological school in NYC Walt died (at 57), and his widow asked me to come back to California to officiate at his funeral, which I did. He had asked me to change my name from “Gill” to “Gauthier”, which was his name. I told him that at this stage of things it would be too complicated to do. He was my original and best father prior to the others all of whom proved to be pretty worthless.
During my college years at Westmont College in Santa Barbara, California a man named Rathburn Shelton became my surrogate, and thus my fifth, father. He was the Alumni Director for the college, as well as Alumni Director and Baseball Coach (it was a very small college). Rath and his wife Peggy had four sons, Ron, David, Steve, and Jeff all of whom I got to watch grow up over the years.
Even though I never really lived near them, I visited the college often and was in a way considered a member of the family. I always stopped to see Rath (and Peggy until she died early) whenever I came bye the college, especially after he became quite ill. Often he would play his trumpet for his guests. He had been a first-class trumpeter in Army Bands during World War Two.
Over my four years at Westmont and for many years thereafter I always sought Rath out for advice and encouragement. He had a marvelous way of spreading warmth and humor amongst all those who came into his presence. His sons have all grown up to be outstanding, creative and joyful people. Over the years I watched Rath grow from his early fundamentalist view of things into a quiet but strong person of rich and deep religious faith.
So, now I wish to send a Happy Father’s Day message to all five of these “Fathers” of mine. They each in one way or another helped make me who and whatever I have become. Thanks to all my Pops!!