Faith Without Works Is Dead: A Rebuke to the Silent Church

Without action, Faith is dead
St. James

There comes a time when silence is not prudence but betrayal. When prayer, unattended by action, becomes a mockery of the God who hears the cry of the oppressed. When the Church, called to be the Body of Christ in the world, becomes instead a mausoleum of pious intentions and ornamental liturgies, while the world burns in the furnace of authoritarianism, fascism, and the calculated erosion of human dignity.

We are living in such a time. This IS the time!

And the Catholic Church—yes, all of it, all its churches, from the gilded basilicas to the humble parish halls—is guilty. Guilty not of malice, but of apathy. Not of overt violence, but of the quiet complicity that comes from doing nothing while evil advances. Guilty of the very sin that St. James condemned with prophetic fire: the sin of dead faith.

“Be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves,” he wrote. And again, “Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” These are not gentle suggestions. They are thunderclaps. They are the voice of the Spirit crying out against the illusion that belief alone is enough. That liturgy alone is enough. That prayer alone is enough.

We have prayed for peace while refusing to confront the architects of war. We have preached love while tolerating systems that breed hatred. We have celebrated the Eucharist—the sacrament of radical communion—while ignoring the cries of the poor, the migrant, the disenfranchised, the sick, the unemployed, the vulnerable. We have spoken of the dignity of the human person while remaining silent as that dignity is trampled under the boots of authoritarian regimes and populist demagogues.

This is hypocrisy. And Christ does not tolerate hypocrisy.

He did not whisper when He saw it. He did not negotiate with it. He did not offer it a seat at the table. He overturned tables. He called the religious leaders of His day “whitewashed tombs”—beautiful on the outside, but full of death within. He wept over Jerusalem not because it was irreligious, but because it was religious and still blind. He healed on the Sabbath and was angry - yes, angry!!! - at those who valued law over love, order over mercy.

And what of us? What of our Churches today?

We have become experts in decorum and novices in courage. We have mastered the art of theological nuance while forgetting the simplicity of the Gospel: “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” We have built institutions to preserve tradition, but neglected the prophetic tradition that calls us to confront injustice. We have feared controversy more than we have feared God.

The menace of fascism is not a relic of the past. It is not confined to history books or grainy black-and-white footage. It is here. It is now. It wears new clothes, speaks new slogans, and manipulates new technologies. But its essence is the same: the exaltation of power over truth, the suppression of dissent, the scapegoating of the vulnerable, the idolatry of nation and race and strength.

And what has the Church done?

We have issued statements. We have held conferences. We have prayed. But we have not resisted. We have not stood in the streets. We have not risked our comfort. We have not challenged the powerful with the same boldness that Christ did. We have not been doers of the word.

We have watched as migrants drown in the sea and said, “Let us pray.” We have watched as politicians demonize the poor and said, “Let us reflect.” We have watched as authoritarian leaders dismantle democratic institutions and said, “Let us dialogue.” We have watched as fascist ideologies infiltrate our communities and said, “Let us be pastoral.”

Pastoral?!?!?!… What is pastoral about silence in the face of evil? What is pastoral about neutrality when the Gospel demands a side? What is pastoral about protecting the institutions while the people suffer?

This is not pastoral care. It is pastoral cowardice. And it is killing our witness.

The world does not need another Church that is safe. It needs a Church that is holy. And holiness is not safety—it is fire. It is the fire of Pentecost, the fire of the prophets, the fire of Christ’s own heart burning with love and justice. Holiness is not retreat—it is incarnation. It is God entering the mess of the world, not to observe it, but to redeem it.

We are called to be that fire.

We are called to be the Body of Christ—not a corpse embalmed in tradition, but a living body that moves, speaks, acts, and suffers with the world. We are called to be the hands that overturn tables, the voice that cries out in the wilderness, the feet that walk with the marginalized, the heart that breaks for the broken.

We are called to be doers. And if we are not—if we continue to hide behind liturgy and doctrine and prayer without action—then we are not the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. We are a club. We are a museum. We are a performance, an operetta, or worse, a cheap vaudeville. And our faith then is dead.

This is not a call to abandon prayer. God forbid. Prayer is the lifeblood of the Church. But prayer must lead to action. The Eucharist must lead to solidarity. The Creed must lead to courage. The Cross must lead to resistance.

We must resist. And be prepared to fall at the foot of the Cross if it comes to that.

We must resist the temptation to be comfortable. We must resist the seduction of respectability. We must resist the pressure to conform. We must resist the voices that tell us to stay out of politics, to avoid controversy, to preserve unity at the cost of truth, justice, solidarity and love.

Unity without justice is not unity—it is complicity. And truth without action is not truth—it is theatre.

Let us be clear: fascism and authoritarianism are not political opinions. They are spiritual diseases. They are the antithesis of the Gospel. They are the rejection of the Imago Dei. They are the crucifixion of Christ repeated in every act of oppression.

To tolerate them is to betray Him. To remain silent is to deny Him. To do nothing is to crucify Him again.

And so I say to every bishop, every priest, every deacon, every religious, every layperson: Rise. Speak. Act. Risk. Be doers of the Word. Be the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church that Christ died to create. Be the Church that James demanded. Be the Church that the world needs. Be the Church that Humanity is hungry for.

Because if we are not, then we are nothing.

And our faith is truly dead.