Saved Through Childbirth

“But women will be saved through childbearing…” – 1 Timothy 2.15 Over the years I have responded, in turns, with bafflement and annoyance, to this verse. Bafflement because it arouses all kinds of puzzling questions about the grounds of salvation; and annoyance because of what these questions imply about the status of the ‘fair sex:’ does it mean that women are saved in a manner different – perhaps inferior – to men? If so, doesn’t this contradict the fundamental truth that all are saved by the blood of Christ; and that in Christ “there is neither male nor female”? Isn’t it a bit patronizing, even heretical, of Timothy to suggest that women need something additional to the blood of Christ to accomplish their salvation? And if so doesn’t this cheapen the cost Christ paid on Calvary? Besides all this there is the glaring fact of what the passage may imply for single women or women unable to bear children: are they somehow exempted from this particular form of salvation? It wasn’t until recently, after becoming pregnant with my second child, and writhing under the grip of first-trimester nausea, that a new thought entered my mind: what if the experience of “carrying a child in the womb and giving birth to it,” as the word is literally defined, is but one of God’s many practical methods of sanctifying His people? Childbirth, then, and all that accompanies it, is not the ground of salvation – for we are all, male and female alike, saved by the propitious work of Christ – but, as one scholar put it, something which, for some women, “designates the circumstances” of the “working out of salvation.” After all, the primary definition of the word ‘salvation’ is: “to rescue from danger, destruction;” “to save one suffering from disease, to make well, heal, restore to health.” For the Christian, the ultimate “danger” is eternal enslavement to self; the ultimate “destruction,” eternal separation from God; the greatest “disease,” sin; and the only cure, Christ. Christ’s method of “restoring the sinner to health” requires the individual die to self in order to live for and with God. If one thing may be said of childbirth and its consequences, it is this: in a very real sense, it liberates the mother from enslavement to herself, from that perpetual preoccupation with meeting and gratifying her own needs and desires, and elevates her to think foremost of the needs of her child. Although it is often the subject of poetic effusions, this process is more often violent than peaceable. Childbirth is emotionally taxing, practically disruptive, and physically disfiguring. Nevertheless, having endured forty long weeks of nausea and discomfort once before, I know the benefits outweigh the costs: all the ‘pains’ work to achieve something infinitely greater, and more valuable, than my paltry imagination could have previously conceived. Thus, as in all things, Christ turns that which was meant to be a curse (Gen. 3.15) into a blessing. Yes, childbirth and its ensuing trials are painful; but the pain is transformative, the tool Christ uses to accomplish a purpose perhaps superior to the miracle of bringing a child into the world: He uses it to transform the soul of the mother, to ‘convert’ or ‘save’ her from the tyranny of self-will, the curse of a way of life that leads only to destruction. In this sense, its pain is also privilege; its bane, a blessing. “Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; …with your right hand you save me. The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; your love, O Lord, endures forever… (Psalm 138.7-8).”