Faith and Works: A Journey of Heart

Growing up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I’ve always believed that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:17). But recent debates on X about faith versus works—some championing faith alone, others insisting on works—made me pause. The arguments often felt like an I-It clash, with both sides dismissing each other rather than seeking understanding. This prompted me to ask: Why does faith need works, and why do works need faith? I wanted answers grounded in how we live, not just theology. The Path to Action from Crucial Conversations showed me that faith shapes our actions through the stories we tell, while The Anatomy of Peace revealed that works without faith are empty. Preparing this post deepened my respect for the “faith alone” view, with its focus on grace, and showed me that faith and works together reflect the heart’s truth.

Faith and works are often debated—some champion faith alone as sufficient, while others see faith and works as deeply intertwined. Both perspectives offer profound insights, but the connection between faith and action becomes clearer when we explore how our minds process experiences and how faith shapes our choices. Faith is a necessary component of belief, but actions alone don’t fully reveal it—works without faith can seem faithful but ultimately show their emptiness through how we regard others.

By combining the Path to Action from Crucial Conversations with the I-It versus I-Thou perspectives from The Anatomy of Peace, I hope to show that faith always leads to actions, and that actions without faith are dead—lacking truth and care. In the end, only we can discern whether our faith truly guides our hearts.

Faith Alone and Faith with Works

The sola fide (faith alone) perspective, rooted in Ephesians 2:8-9, teaches that salvation comes through faith, a gift of God's grace, not through works. This view celebrates the freedom of trusting in God's unmerited favor, reminding us that our relationship with Him rests on His love, not our efforts.

Conversely, James 2:17 suggests that “faith, if it hath not works, is dead.” This perspective sees works as the natural fruit of faith—not a means to earn salvation, but evidence of a living belief. These views can harmonize: faith alone anchors us in grace, while works reveal a person's faith. Yet, just because two people have the same works doesn't mean they share the same faith. The heart behind our actions, shaped by our stories, adds a critical layer.

Moreover, works without faith are also dead—dead to the needs of others, who receive no genuine care and sense only self-focused regard; dead to the truth of life, disconnected from others’ humanity; and dead to the person acting, who sees only themselves, trapped in self-focus. Being alive means responding to others with care and connection, while being dead means no true response, leaving works empty and lifeless.

The Path to Action: How Our Minds Work

As I explored in my post titled Enough, every day, our minds process experiences through a predictable sequence called the Path to Action:

  1. See and Hear – We perceive raw facts through our senses.
  2. Tell a Story – Our minds interpret those facts, crafting a narrative.
  3. Feel – That story shapes our emotions.
  4. Act – Our emotions drive our response.

This happens automatically—often beneath our conscious awareness—but the Tell a Story step is where we exercise the most control, though we rarely recognize it. Faith helps us see that our perceptions are limited, not fully capturing others’ inner lives. This humility lets us choose nonjudgmental stories that honor others’ worth.

For example, if a coworker snaps at you in a meeting:

  1. See and Hear: You notice their sharp tone and furrowed brow.

  2. Tell a Story: A default story might be, “They’re disrespecting me!” But faith—whether trust in God, human dignity, or unseen good—prompts stories like, “They’re struggling today” or “That’s an interesting reaction—there’s more here than I see.”

  3. Feel: The first story sparks frustration; faith-driven stories foster curiosity or compassion.

  4. Act: Frustration might lead to a cold response; compassion prompts a kind question.

Faith empowers us to craft stories that trust in kindness and human worth, believing that such stories lead to actions that yield connection, growth, or unseen spiritual impact.

I-It vs. I-Thou: The Heart Behind the Action

Not all actions reflect the same heart. The Anatomy of Peace teaches that we act from two mindsets: I-It or I-Thou. An I-It perspective treats others as objects—tools for our goals or obstacles to avoid. Works without faith are dead in this way: they lack care for others, miss life’s truth, and leave the actor empty, focused only on self. I’ve felt this myself—when I’m stuck in I-It, seeking evidence of my worth in others’ responses, I feel unseen, alone, empty. I’m watching others, but I don’t truly see them as people, only as mirrors for my value. These works are dead because they serve me, not others.

In contrast, an I-Thou perspective sees others as fellow humans with inherent worth. Faith inspires I-Thou actions, driven by love and trust that honoring others’ humanity always bears fruit. When I’m curious about someone else, I stop obsessing over myself—I-It and I-Thou are mutually exclusive. Happiness emerges naturally, unburdened by self-focused stories.

Actions from this mindset might look “good” but feel self-serving. In contrast, an I-Thou perspective sees others as fellow human beings with inherent worth. Faith inspires I-Thou actions, driven by love and a conviction that honoring others' humanity always bears fruit, even if the results aren't immediate.

Our motivations—I-It or I-Thou—shine through in how we look at, speak about, or act toward others. Others sense our regard, feeling our warmth or stiffness. Yet, only we can discern whether our works flow from a faith-filled heart.

An Illustration: Faith, Stories, and the Heart

Consider Maria, who believes faith alone saves. She sees a homeless person (See and Hear) and, guided by faith in human worth, tells herself, “They're struggling and need kindness” (Tell a Story). Her faith—trusting that compassion leads to good—shapes this story, stirring compassion (Feel). After consulting with the person, she offers food with genuine care (Act). Her I-Thou regard shines through—her warmth is felt. Afterward, Maria moves forward without needing validation, her act complete in its love.

Now imagine Sam, who also professes faith but tells a different story: “I should help because I'm a good Christian.” His story, focuses on proving his identity (Tell a Story), stirring duty and self-consciousness (Feel). He gives food (Act), but his I-It mindset seeks to affirm his worth. Others might sense his stiffness, a hint of self-focus. Sam craves reinforcement—social praise, like those who give offerings with fanfare (Matthew 6:2), or internal assurance that he's “good enough.” He revisits his action to bolster his worth, unlike Maria, whose act was for the other.

Only Maria and Sam can know their hearts' motives. No one else can judge whether their actions reflect true faith.

Bridging the Divide: Faith's Transformative Power

For those who hold to faith alone, this perspective enhances the beauty of grace. Faith, whether expressed as trust in God or belief in others' worth, transforms our stories, nudging us toward I-Thou actions. Works without faith are dead—empty, self-focused, and sensed by others. But faith-filled works, alive with care, reflect grace’s power. When we act with I-Thou love, our faith shines, honoring the grace within us.

If our actions feel more I-It than I-Thou, it's a chance to deepen our faith. Are fear, pride, or a need to prove ourselves shaping our stories? Faith empowers us to choose better narratives—rooted in trust and compassion—through prayer, reflection, or community.

Conclusion: Faith That Shapes Our Stories

Faith and works are inseparable, not because works earn salvation, but because faith naturally moves us to act through the stories we tell. Works without faith are dead—lacking truth, care, and life, revealed by how others sense our regard. The Path to Action shows how faith—whether naming God or trusting in human dignity—helps us choose I-Thou narratives, believing they yield positive results. Yet, as The Anatomy of Peace reminds us, only we can discern whether our works flow from an I-Thou heart. Whether you cherish faith alone or see faith and works as intertwined, let faith be the key—guiding your stories, stirring your heart, and leading to actions that honor the divine in everyone. Faith is a journey of the heart, known fully only to you and God.

(NOTE: The ideas in this post are all mine, but AI was used to help build it out)

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