Dr. Mark Creech
Director of Government Relations
Return America
RevMarkCreech.org
Few issues in our day are as emotionally charged as the question of life in the womb. Nevertheless, the sanctity of human life is not simply a pro-life descriptor. It is not, at its core, about politics, court decisions, or partisan alignment. It is a matter of Christology.
The Christian understanding of human life begins not with social policy, but with the Incarnation. When God chose to redeem the world, He did not do so from a distance. He entered human existence Himself, and He did so at its very beginning. The Son of God did not become human at birth, nor at some later stage of development, but at conception. From His first moment of earthly life, He shared the same hidden, fragile, dependent condition that marks every human life in the womb.
For this reason, the Incarnation stands as the most powerful and enduring testimony to the sacredness of unborn life. Long before modern debates, medical imaging, or biological charts, God bore witness through His own Son that life in the womb is fully human, endowed with the highest dignity, and precious beyond measure. Christ did not merely pass through the womb on His way to something more important; He sanctified it by dwelling there.
What follows are seven witnesses drawn from the life of Christ Himself – seven ways in which His presence in the womb marks human life as sacred beyond dispute.
If we listen to these witnesses carefully, we will find that they lead us beyond politics and into reverence – beyond argument and into worship – where the sanctity of life is no longer defended merely as a principle, but honored as a truth that God has written into the story of redemption itself.
The Son of God Began His Human Life as a Single Cell
The Incarnation itself bears witness that life in the womb is sacred from its very first moment.
When the angel announced to Mary that she would conceive, he did not speak of a future humanity that would arrive later. He spoke of a holy conception – of a life that would begin immediately and fully by the power of God. “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee,” the angel declared, “therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God” (Luke 1:35). From the very first moment life began in the womb, the Divine entered humanity there.
This means something far more concrete – far more humbling than we often realize. The eternal Son of God did not begin His earthly life as an infant, but as a fertilized ovum, invisible to the human eye. The One who spoke light into being, who stretched out the heavens, and who upholds all things by the Word of His power, willingly confined Himself to the smallest form of human life.
Modern science now helps us see what the whole of Scripture had already affirmed: at conception, a complete human organism exists, possessing the full genetic information necessary for growth and development. While Adam was uniquely formed by God’s breath from the dust, every human life since has begun in the womb, and Scripture consistently treats that life as fully real and known by God. The Son of God did not assume a partial humanity that gradually became complete. From that first cellular moment, His divine nature was united to a genuine human nature. He was not becoming human. He was fully human.
Think of it: the Omnipresent God confined Himself to a single cell.
By choosing to begin there, Christ forever bore witness to the sacredness of life in the womb. If the eternal Son of God did not regard that first moment of human existence as insignificant or expendable, then neither may we.
Therefore, the first witness speaks unmistakably: when the egg is fertilized by the seed, human life bears a dignity the world did not give, and has no authority to take away.
The Son of God Passed Through Every Stage of Human Development
By inhabiting every stage of growth, Christ shows that no stage of human life is disposable.
The Son of God did not enter human existence only to bypass its earliest and most fragile seasons. Having begun His earthly life in the womb, He then passed through every stage of human development in an ordinary way. What embryology now traces with remarkable clarity – implantation, cell division, the forming of organs, the emergence of a heartbeat, the development of the brain and nervous system – Christ Himself experienced from the inside.
None of this was necessary for Him, but it was necessary for us.
He did not appear fully formed, as Adam did. He did not descend as a finished man, untouched by the slow and hidden processes of human development. Instead, He entered the human story in the womb and moved through each stage patiently, deliberately, and completely. Each phase that contemporary culture is tempted to minimize or dismiss was inhabited by the Holy Son of God.
Scripture summarizes this astonishing truth with beautiful simplicity: “Wherefore in all things it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren” (Hebrews 2:17). “In all things.” Not merely in outward appearance, not only in adulthood, not just in visible strength, but in the full course of human growth, including life before birth.
By passing through every point, Christ sanctified each one. None of it was incidental. None of it was dispensable. What He entered, He affirmed. What He assumed, He dignified.
This witness speaks directly to our time. In a world that increasingly assigns value based on size, ability, independence, or usefulness, Christ’s presence at every level of change in the uterus demonstrates that worth does not rise or fall according to functional capacity. It is inherent from the very start. By walking through every process of life Himself, He clearly demonstrated that each one matters to God.
The Son of God Embraced Dependence in the Womb
Christ’s dependence before birth declares the worth of dependent human life.
From His very first moment in the womb, the Son of God entered a state of total helplessness and reliance. In utero, a child contributes nothing to its own survival. Life is sustained entirely by the mother – nourishment received, protection given, and care neither conceived of nor understood. This was the condition Christ willingly accepted.
The One through whom all things consist did not merely permit dependence; He embraced it. Scripture declares, “And he is before all things, and by him all things consist” (Colossians 1:17). Yet in the mystery of His presence in the womb, the Sustainer of all life chose to be sustained. The Giver of life received life. The Creator was carried by His own creation.
In Mary’s womb, Christ was nourished through the umbilical cord. He was protected by her body. His growth, strength, and survival depended entirely upon another. This is not an incidental detail – it is a profound theological truth. The Lord did not redeem humanity while remaining above its most vulnerable conditions. He entered them fully.
This is part of what Scripture means when it speaks of Christ’s self-emptying. “Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:6–7). This pouring out of Himself did not begin at the Cross. It began as a fetus unable to sustain itself.
By entering the world apart from self-asserting power, Christ decisively overturned the lie that value is measured by autonomy or strength. He showed that human worth does not rest in capability, productivity, or self-sufficiency but in God’s purpose and presence. If dependence were a reason for disqualification or unworthiness, the Son of God would never have entered it.
This witness speaks with particular force in our time. We live in a society that prizes independence and fears dependence, especially as to how this applies to those who reside in the womb. Yet Christ dignified total reliance by entering it Himself. In doing so, He declared that lives marked by the necessity of leaning completely on others are not lesser lives. They are fully human lives, worthy of protection, honor, and care.
God’s Great Work of Redemption Began in Hiddenness
What God chooses to do in secret, the world must never treat as insignificant.
For nine months, the Savior of the world lived as a human being entirely unseen. God’s great redemptive work unfolded quietly hidden within the womb of a teenage girl from Nazareth. Before Christ was ever observed, heard, or recognized by the world, He was fully present, fully human, and fully precious in the sight of God.
This hiddenness was not accidental. It was purposeful. The presence of Christ in the womb teaches that God does not wait for recognition to assign value or bestow dignity. Long before Christ was hailed by angels, shepherds, or kings, He was known and cherished by God, the Father, in secret.
This truth speaks directly to our time. The womb is hidden, and because it is hidden, the lives within it are often treated as morally negotiable. What remains beyond sight is more easily dismissed. Abortion has advanced, in part, because it takes place where eyes do not see, and conscience is not immediately confronted. Yet whenever the veil is momentarily lifted – through an ultrasound image, a heartbeat heard, or an unborn child’s movement in utero noted – hearts often change. Such moments do not create life or dignity; they simply uncover the beauty and glory of life already present.
Years ago, a wise woman said to me, “A rose is just as beautiful if it grows on the backside of a mountain where no one ever witnesses it. Why? Because God sees it. It is not hidden from Him, and He is the One who caused it to grow.” The same is true of human life in the womb. Its value does not depend on its being acknowledged or celebrated. Its worth rests in the fact that God sees it, forms it, and is present there to affirm its incomparable value.
Christ’s hidden life before birth confirms this truth with divine authority. It teaches us that life does not become sacred when it is wanted or welcomed. It is sacred because God looks upon it – even in the secrecy of the womb – with great love and affection.
This fourth witness speaks with unmistakable force: what God inhabits in hiddenness – what God sees that no one else does – is never insignificant – never expendable and never beyond His care.
God Knit Together the Redeemer’s Body in the Womb
The very flesh prepared for redemption was first fashioned in the womb.
Scripture speaks of the womb not as a place of chance or mere biology, but as a workshop of divine intention. “For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb,” the psalmist declares. “I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made… My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret” (Psalm 139:13–15). Life in the womb is not only seen by God, but it is intentionally knit together by Him.
This truth takes on staggering significance when we consider Christ’s presence in the womb. The Son of God did not merely assume a body at birth; He received a body that was carefully fashioned in the womb over time. Scripture places these words on the lips of Christ Himself: “Wherefore when he cometh into the world, he saith, Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared me” (Hebrews 10:5).
That body was divinely designed. That body would be sacrificed for the sins of the world. Redemption required not only a body, but one shaped through the ordinary processes of human life. Cell by cell, bone by bone, sinew and skin were woven by the hand of God. The hands that would one day be pierced – the feet that would one day be nailed to the Cross – were shaped in the darkness of the womb. The heart that would be broken for sinners first beat there.
Redemption did not begin with the Cross; it required a frame to embody – one capable of obedience, suffering, and sacrificial death. Our Lord was crafted in helplessness and tended by God’s own hand. The womb became the first arena of God’s redemptive workmanship.
Considered carefully, this truth carries profound moral weight. If the body of the Redeemer was molded in the womb with such intent, then life in the womb cannot be dismissed as incomplete, provisional, or cast aside. The same God who knit together Christ’s body knits together every human body in the prenatal process.
This fifth witness declares with clarity and force: what God forms in the womb is not disposable, but His sacred handiwork.
Christ’s Redemptive Suffering Began Before the Cross
The weakness of unborn life marks the first chapter of Christ’s saving work.
We often think of Christ’s suffering as beginning in Gethsemane or reaching its meaning only at Calvary. Those moments are central to the Gospel message. Yet Scripture shows us that the path of Christ’s suffering, all the way to the Cross, started with the Incarnation.
For God to take on human flesh was already an act of profound humiliation. The eternal Son did not merely take on a body; He accepted the limitations, exposures, and liabilities that come with human life in a fallen world. From the moment He entered the womb, He placed Himself in a position where harm, loss, and suffering were possible. This was not mere weakness that the Master embraced, but a willing exposure to want, risk, and pain for the sake of others.
The early church fathers understood this well. They often spoke of Christ’s entire earthly life as part of His passion. His suffering was not confined to the final hours of His death, but woven into the whole course of His humanity. By willingly entering our condition, Christ accepted hunger, fatigue, rejection, sorrow, and ultimately death. By this costly descent, the Almighty God willingly assumed a form in which He could be harmed. Truly, this is difficult to fathom.
Human developmental biology only sharpens our understanding of this truth. We now know how lowly and susceptible the life of an unborn child can be. Christ willingly entered this condition for our sake, for “in all things it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren” (Hebrews 2:17), and He is “touched with the feeling of our infirmities” (Hebrews 4:15). He did not shield Himself from the frailties of the earliest stages of human existence. He welcomed them.
The Cross, then, was not the beginning of Christ’s suffering, but its culmination. The nails did not initiate His sacrifice; they completed a sacrifice that had been unfolding since the moment He entered His mother’s uterus. The lowering did not start on Good Friday, but when He took on flesh.
This witness speaks with sobering clarity: the Redeemer chose exposure, finitude, and infirmity long before the nails, and in doing so, He declared that human life marked by weakness is not throwaway life, but exceedingly precious in the sight of God.
God Honored the Physical Body from the First Moment of Life
By becoming flesh in the womb, God forever affirmed the dignity of embodied human life.
Christian faith has never taught that salvation is merely the rescue of souls from the body. Scripture presents a far richer and more hopeful vision: God redeems the whole person. The body is not incidental. It is part of God’s good creation, part of what it means to be human, and part of what Christ came to redeem.
This truth is established decisively by Christ’s presence in the womb. “And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). From the first moment of His earthly life, Christ honored the physical body by taking one to Himself.
Throughout His ministry, Jesus consistently affirmed the value of physical existence. He healed blind eyes, restored withered limbs, strengthened paralyzed legs, cleansed diseased skin, and raised the lifeless from the dead. These were not side acts or just signs of His holy credentials; they were meant to reveal that God’s redemption reaches into physical realities. Christ’s compassion was never limited to the soul. It touched bodies weighed down by pain, weakness, decay, and loss.
This reaches its deepest meaning at the Cross. Salvation required a body. “A body hast thou prepared me” (Hebrews 10:5). Christ did not save by sentiment or sympathy alone, but by the offering of His own flesh and blood. Scripture is unambiguous: “Without shedding of blood is no remission” (Hebrews 9:22). The atonement was not abstract; it was a substitutional offering of His own body. The wounds were real. The blood was real. In the observance of the Lord’s Supper, the church commemorates the broken body and shed blood of Christ for everyone who believes.
Christ’s atoning lifeblood did not come into existence at Calvary. It was prepared long before – knit together cell by cell in the womb of Mary. Redemption was accomplished through the sacrifice of the One shaped by God Himself – given for us in due time – made with this sacrifice in mind during Christ’s habitation in a woman’s belly.
Neither did redemption end with death. Christ’s resurrection from the grave affirms once more that the physical body matters to God. Christ rose literally, bodily, from the grave, not as a spirit released from flesh, but as a glorified man who still bore the marks of His sacrifice. When He appeared to His disciples, He insisted upon this truth: “Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have” (Luke 24:39). The risen Christ did not abandon His body after accomplishing redemption. He carried it forward – scars included – even into eternity. His wounds declare forever His complete identification with those He came to save and the immeasurable cost at which that salvation was secured to redeem the whole man.
Scripture promises that at the end: “For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself” (Philippians 3:20–21). The final hope of the Christian is not disembodiment, but total restoration.
This speaks directly to the physical brokenness everyone experiences in various way – sickness, disease, disability, aging, infertility, chronic pain, deformity, and decay. The gospel does not deny our physical impoverishments. It confronts them with a glorious hope. This hope started when Christ entered the most precarious condition imaginable – by taking on human flesh in the womb. In this, Christ declared human value is not measured by viability, strength, or performance. It is grounded in the fact that God creates bodies, inhabits bodies, redeems bodies, and will one day glorify them.
This final witness speaks with unmistakable clarity: the God who became a man in the womb has forever affirmed the sacredness of the entire man from his very beginning. What Christ assumed, He redeemed. What He redeemed, He honored. What He honored, He called sacred. Therefore, no human authority has the right to destroy innocent human life.
God did not enter human life at birth, but at conception, and in doing so, He bestowed the highest dignity upon life in the womb. The value of the unborn does not arise from human recognition, social usefulness, or legal protection, but from God’s own action in Christ. Because Christ chose to dwell there – in the womb – life at every stage is hallowed and made holy and cannot be treated as disposable.
Read the Companion Article (same content, but much shorter): When God Entered the Womb: Why Human Life Is Sacred
