Recently, I preached on 1 Timothy 2, and there was one particular part of the passage I didn't really get the opportunity to address properly. Partly because there's only so much you can squeeze into a thirty-minute sermon, and partly because this particular verse deserves more attention than I was able to give it.
The more I've thought about it, the more I've felt compelled to come back to it. Because this isn't just an interesting theological question. It's something that touches on a deeply personal, and for some women incredibly painful, area of life.
Now, before we go any further, I should acknowledge something fairly obvious. I'm a bloke. I've never experienced the longing to become a mother, the heartbreak of infertility, or the reality of making difficult decisions about pregnancy because of serious health concerns. I can listen, sympathise and try to understand, but I recognise the limits of my own experience.
So please be gracious with me. My heart here is simply to handle Scripture carefully and hopefully offer some encouragement to women who may have wondered what this passage means for them.
Hang on. Saved through what?
Here's the verse in question:
"But women will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith, love and holiness with propriety." (1 Timothy 2:15, NIV)
Sorry, what?
If we read that on its own, we could quite easily conclude that Paul is saying women need to have babies to be saved.
But what about women who remain single? Women who cannot conceive? Women whose medical conditions make pregnancy dangerous or even life-threatening? Women who choose not to have children?
Are they somehow missing something spiritually? Have they failed to fulfil God's purpose for their lives?
Well, let me reassure you straight away that the answer is no. And not simply because that's the answer we'd like to hear, but because of what Scripture teaches.
Context matters. Quite a lot, actually.
One of the easiest mistakes we can make when reading the Bible is pulling a sentence out of its surroundings and deciding what it means.
Imagine receiving a letter from a friend, reading one sentence halfway through, ignoring everything else, and confidently announcing what your friend intended. You'd probably make a complete mess of it. Yet we sometimes do exactly that with Scripture.
Paul is writing to Timothy about problems in the church at Ephesus, including false teaching and how Christians should conduct themselves. Immediately before this verse, he's discussing Adam and Eve and the events surrounding humanity's fall.
Whatever Paul means by childbearing, it belongs within that argument. We can't simply lift it out and turn it into a universal requirement for women. And importantly, our interpretation needs to fit with the wider teaching of Scripture.
Your salvation doesn't depend on becoming a mother.
In Ephesians 2:8–9, Paul reminds us that salvation is by grace through faith. It's God's gift, not something we earn through our achievements.
Not through good behaviour, church attendance, reading our Bibles every morning, or managing to remain patient with people who get on our nerves.
And certainly not through having children.
If childbirth were necessary for salvation, then a woman's standing before God would depend on something she does rather than what Jesus has done. That would fundamentally change the gospel.
So what does Paul mean?
Some understand the verse as referring to preservation through childbirth, although that raises difficult questions, since faithful Christian women have died giving birth. Others believe Paul is talking about women expressing their faith through motherhood.
There's also another interpretation I find particularly compelling.
Remember that Paul has just mentioned Eve? In Genesis 3:15, God promises that a descendant of the woman will ultimately defeat the serpent. Christians have long understood this as pointing towards Jesus.
Perhaps, then, Paul is referring not to every woman's childbirth, but to the particular birth through which the Saviour entered the world.
Not the birth of your child, but the birth of Christ.
Now, faithful Christians disagree about which interpretation best fits Paul's wording, and we shouldn't pretend otherwise. But the wider biblical teaching is clear.
Salvation comes through Jesus Christ, not through biological motherhood.
Motherhood is wonderful. But it isn't compulsory.
Sometimes I wonder whether we've unintentionally created an expectation of what a successful Christian life should look like.
Meet someone, get married, have children, bring them to church, spend eighteen years trying to persuade them to get out of bed on Sunday mornings, and hopefully watch them repeat the process.
There's nothing wrong with that picture. Motherhood is an extraordinary calling, and children are a blessing.
But it isn't every woman's calling.
Paul speaks positively about singleness in 1 Corinthians 7. He doesn't treat unmarried people as Christians whose lives haven't properly started yet.
And neither should we.
The Bible never teaches that a woman has to become a mother to become everything God created her to be.
Your life isn't on hold until you marry. Your purpose isn't waiting for you to have children. And your value doesn't depend on either of those things happening.
And if this is painful, that's OK too.
I want to tread particularly carefully here.
Not every woman without children is grieving. Some are entirely content with their circumstances, and we shouldn't treat them as though something is missing.
But for others, not being able to have children may be the greatest heartbreak of their lives.
Years of hoping and praying. Medical appointments and treatments. Repeated disappointments. Miscarriages. Or the devastating knowledge that pregnancy could seriously endanger their health.
For some, that grief is profound and enduring. And I don't want to suggest that a reassuring Bible verse somehow makes it disappear.
You can be entirely secure in God's love and still be utterly heartbroken by the life you hoped for but never had.
Faith doesn't cancel grief. Even Jesus wept.
If this is your experience, you don't need to apologise for finding it painful, pretend another pregnancy announcement doesn't hurt, or feel guilty for grieving something that matters so deeply to you.
Your sorrow isn't evidence of insufficient faith. And your circumstances aren't evidence of God's disappointment.
Family is about more than biology.
While we're talking about motherhood, I think it's important to acknowledge adoptive parents too.
Because motherhood isn't defined solely by pregnancy and childbirth. The love, commitment and responsibility involved in adopting and raising a child are every bit as real as those involved in biological parenting.
And there's a beautiful connection here with the gospel.
In Ephesians 1:5, Paul tells us that God has adopted us into his family through Jesus Christ. Romans 8:15–17 reminds us that, through the Spirit, we can call God our Father and know that we are his children and heirs.
We're not honorary members of God's family. We belong to him.
Of course, adoption brings its own joys and challenges, and it shouldn't be presented as some easy alternative to infertility. But it reminds us that family has never been simply about biology.
And that brings us to something else the New Testament celebrates.
What about spiritual motherhood?
In Titus 2, Paul encourages older women to guide and teach younger women. Throughout Scripture, we see believers encouraging, nurturing and helping one another grow in faith.
Sometimes we call that spiritual motherhood.
Perhaps you can think of a woman who has had that sort of influence in your life. Someone who encouraged you, prayed for you, challenged you or helped you understand what following Jesus looks like.
That influence is incredibly precious, and it doesn't depend on having biological children.
But please hear me carefully. Spiritual motherhood isn't a consolation prize for women who haven't been able to conceive. Nor is it another obligation every woman must fulfil.
It doesn't replace the child someone desperately wanted, or make their grief disappear.
It's simply another beautiful expression of how God's family cares for one another.
And that family is much bigger than biological relationships.
In Isaiah 56, God promises a lasting place and name to faithful eunuchs who couldn't have descendants. And in Mark 3, Jesus describes those who do God's will as his brother, sister and mother.
In God's family, belonging has never depended on producing children.
Please don't carry a burden God never gave you.
This is really why I wanted to write this.
Because we must read Scripture carefully, especially when our interpretation could affect people carrying enormous pain.
There's a world of difference between being challenged by something God has actually said and being wounded by something we've mistakenly claimed he said.
We must never add spiritual guilt to someone's existing grief because of our own ignorance of Scripture.
So if you've ever wondered whether your singleness, infertility, medical circumstances or decision not to become a mother somehow makes you less valuable to God, please hear this.
You are not a second-class Christian. Your life is not incomplete. And you haven't been given a lesser place in God's family.
Biological motherhood may be part of your story. Adoptive motherhood may be part of your story. Spiritual motherhood may be part of your story. Perhaps more than one, perhaps none.
But none of them determines your standing before God.
Because ultimately, your salvation doesn't depend on the children you might have. It depends on the Son God has already given.