Tim Challies, one of my favorite
Christian bloggers, has tackled 1 Tim. 2:15.
He concedes that the text does not use the word “saved” to refer to the
grounds on which a woman is justified.
Neither does he interpret the “she” in the text as Mary, nor does he
treat the entire verse metaphorically, equating Adam with Christ, Eve with the
Church, and childbearing with good works.
Rather, he suggests that Eve’s singular calling would save her and her
daughters from the negative connotations of being the one that initiated the
Fall. But while it’s true that “the
woman, being deceived, was in the transgression,” it’s still in Adam, the head
of the human race, that all died (1 Cor. 15:20). So is that all that the text means?
In understanding this verse, we
must first remember whom Paul is addressing.
He’s writing to young pastor Timothy, and through him, to the church at
Ephesus. The women he addresses are
believers. This is affirmed in the latter
half of the verse: not all women are saved
in childbearing, only those who “continue
in faith and charity and holiness with sobriety.”
When I ponder what it means that
women are “saved” in childbearing, Phil. 2:5-13 comes to mind. In that passage Paul calls the Philippians to
claim the humble mind of Christ. He
reminds them that even though Christ is God, He “made Himself of no
reputation,” “humbled Himself, “and became obedient unto death, even the death
of the cross.” “Wherefore God also hath highly exalted Him,” writes Paul, “and
given Him a name that is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee
should bow…and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to
the glory of God the Father.” Then he
commands each of them, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” Paul is not implying that one needs to be
terrified lest he lose his salvation. In
fact, he is not implying that salvation is dependent upon us at all, “For it is
God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure.” Rather, he is encouraging the Philippians to
live a life of holiness, to be active in their sanctification, the process by which
God takes those who have been born again and makes them holy. One who is separated to God reverences Him
and fears doing anything that might displease Him. God – through Paul – calls believers to live
a life in which their every thought, word, and deed is held captive by this
reality: Jesus Christ is Lord. In that
way, God is glorified in and through them.
Now back to 1 Tim. 2:15. When Paul writes that women will be saved in
child-bearing, he means that ordinarily God sanctifies believing women through their
calling to be child-bearers. Yes, there
are exceptions, but God prepares the majority of Christian women for their
place in heaven – He makes them holy – by requiring them to humble themselves
in the service of children. This is the
way in which I – and you, fellow Christian mother – am compelled to daily
crucify the old man within me. This is
the way in which I am confronted moment-by-moment with this reality: Jesus
Christ is Lord. When He gives children,
Jesus Christ is Lord. When He withholds
children, Jesus Christ is Lord. When I
am faced with the myriad of trials that accompany little ones – or, someday
soon, teenagers – He is Lord. When I am
tempted to think that there must be something more important that I could be
doing with all my time and energy, He is Lord.
He has called me to be a mother, and when I respond in joyful obedience
to His will for my life, I confess that He is Lord, to the glory of God the
Father.
As I write this, it’s the second day of spring break. This means that I’m attempting just enough to
keep everyone active and amused in our suddenly disrupted routine, but I have a
9-year-old competitor when it comes to “the plan for the day” and a 7-year old
who readily runs out of things to do. A
few necessary errands are on the agenda, though they will entail all five kids
in tow and (likely) sympathetic glances at my pregnant belly. Spring break is a taste of summer…and at this
point, that’s somewhat terrifying to me.
A while
back a young single friend posed me this question: “What about motherhood has been most
unexpected for you?” I had my answer
right away: I never expected motherhood to be so difficult. As a child I aspired to be a mother. When our oldest was born, I threw myself into
motherhood, and I was sure that I was going to love every moment of it. I was going to be that mom who never raised
her voice, laughed and smiled all the time, took my well-behaved children on
frequent outings, and served delicious, nutritious meals right on time every
day, all while maintaining a clean, carefully-decorated home.
Now,
10+ years in and (almost) six children later, I can confess that I probably raise
my voice every day, but I’m not sure how often I laugh. Outings are exhausting. Supper – even if on time – usually entails at
least one or two parties who express displeasure with what’s been prepared
(though not vocally, of course, at least in Dad’s presence). My home is generally littered with all kinds
of items that have been removed from their designated places and left lying in
just the spot where I’m destined to step when I’m up in the middle of the night.
God’s Word has a response to
these difficulties that I repeatedly find so unexpected: “My brethren,” writes
Peter in 1 Pet.4:12, “think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is
to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you: but rejoice, inasmuch
as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings…”
James puts it this way: “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into
diverse temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience…”
(James 1:2-3). We who are the Lord’s
disciples must expect trials all our
life long, whether we are mothers or not.
When we face those trials humbly, obediently, they result in godly
patience, in our being made “perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” The path of the just that is as a shining
light, shining more and more to the perfect day, is a narrow, difficult climb. For we who are mothers, the difficulties that
we encounter along that way are usually related to child-bearing. They come in the form of physical pain, lack
of sleep, squabbles, the sorrow of seeing our own sins and sinfulness
manifested in our children…and the list could go on and on.
But there is great blessedness in our calling, too, mothers, if only we
are willing to see it. We are blessed
when we sit down with our children to read a Bible story, rehearse a memory
verse, or explain why, as God’s children, we speak and act a certain way. Admittedly, this blessing stings
sometimes. Try teaching your children
about controlling their temper when just moments ago you were the one short on
patience. Or admonish your children to
be content with the things that they have as you mope about the laundry pile or
fume over the milk on the floor. The blessing
comes, too, in the daunting awareness that as Christian mothers we care for God’s children, the children to whom the
promises are (Acts 2:39). The blessing
comes in the assurance that day by day God equips us for this calling – He
gives us the gifts and the grace that we need.
The blessing comes in this life in the way of a home where God is
praised, though always imperfectly, and where there is joy and love among the
members. And above all, the blessing continues
into eternity, where we will live with our children in the presence of Him who
is fullness of joy.
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