The Maker of All

In the earliest days of the 2020 coronavirus pandemic, many churches closed to protect their members and slow the spread of the disease. It was a time of danger and anxiety. Health authorities discouraged public gatherings of even a handful of people, and individuals and families were told to shelter at home. The danger of the highly contagious virus required separation and isolation, even as we sought ways to connect during this vulnerable time.

The church I attend set up a call list of older members and ones in fragile circumstances who might benefit from a check-in. Many were lifelong members who had played a vital role in shaping the congregation’s ministries. It soon became clear that one of their biggest problems was being separated from activities they were part of through and for the church. Without the ability to be of service they were cut loose from their moorings. Their “works” were a crucial expression of their faith, embodying what it means to follow Jesus. Often, those we called to check on volunteered to become callers themselves.

“What good is it . . . if you say you have faith but do not have works?” James writes. “If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, keep warm and eat your fill,’ and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?”

In one of the most controversial verses in the New Testament, he concludes, “Faith, by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

The fight over whether salvation comes through faith or works has raged for centuries, but it usually misses the kernel of truth in James’s observation: “Works”—day-to-day caring for and about other people—is an outgrowth of deep discipleship. When our church building was closed, we found how central “works” are to faith.