Not Yet Born: A Biblical Defense of Preborn Humans
The Moral Mess and Cultural Confusion
“You can’t really know where you are going until you know where you have been.” — Maya Angelou
To understand our present moment, we must first reckon with the path that brought us here. The most significant turning points came in 1973 and again in 2022—the years the United States Supreme Court issued landmark rulings on abortion.
Roe v. Wade (1973) declared that a woman possesses a constitutional right to abortion. Writing for the majority, Justice Harry Blackmun concluded that “the right of personal privacy includes the abortion decision.” The ruling rested on the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause, which states that no person may be deprived of “life, liberty, or property” without due process of law. Roe interpreted this to mean that abortion is protected under a woman’s “liberty” interest.
The problem is that Roe should never have stood. It represented an overextension of the Due Process Clause—treating protection of legal process as if it created a new right of personal “liberty” or freedom to live without the obligation of parenthood. And in doing so, Roe conveniently skipped over the most obvious moral and constitutional question: What about the preborn child’s right to life—the first right explicitly named in the very clause being invoked?
Ironically, in the name of protecting liberty, Roe had to ignore the existence of the second human being involved. The decision framed abortion as a matter of individual privacy only by conveniently omitting the preborn from consideration altogether. The logic worked only because one person—the smallest and most vulnerable—was removed from the equation.
In 2022, Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization overturned Roe and ruled that the Constitution does not contain a right to abortion. In one sense, Dobbs admitted what many had argued for decades—Roe had been a weak and unsound decision from the beginning. But ironically, Dobbs did not end the debate. Instead, it returned the issue to the states, and now the protection of preborn life depends on where a child happens to be conceived or carried. One child is protected in one state, while another child the same age is not protected in the next.
Dobbs corrected Roe legally, but it also showed us something important: law cannot resolve a moral crisis on its own. The debate did not disappear—it simply moved back into public conversation. Christians can no longer point to Roe as a “get out of debate” free card. For 50 years, the pro-choice side was able to claim “legal protection” while many Christians politely nodded and cited Romans 13 out of context. We now have to speak clearly about personhood, human worth, and moral consistency, because that discussion cannot be avoided any longer.
The real issue before us is not merely who has authority—the federal government, the state, or the individual—but rather what and who we are talking about. The question is one of personhood, human worth, and moral consistency. Roe and Dobbs together demonstrate that law can be rewritten, reversed, or reframed. The culture evidently can no longer recognize objective definitions. Therefore, Christians must articulate a biblical argument that does not rise or fall with legal precedent, popular opinion, or individual preference.
The Center for Reproductive Rights insists that “the decision whether to continue or end a pregnancy belongs to the individual, not the government.” This framing assumes that the central question is who controls the womb. But what if that is the wrong question altogether? What if personal autonomy is not the ultimate good? And what if the Supreme Court—though holding real authority—does not hold the highest authority?
I wish to suggest that we are thinking far too low. Above every court, legislature, and individual conscience stands a higher authority—the highest authority. God is the Sovereign King, the Maker of heaven and earth, the Lawgiver, and the righteous Judge.
The true question, then, is this: What does God say about the life of the preborn?
A Coherent Biblical Logic of Human Value
Throughout this essay, I assume the existence of God, the pervasive and supreme Lordship of Christ, and the inspiration and authority of Scripture. I make no apology for any of that.
My argument is simple and unrelentingly biblical:
Premise 1: All humans possess inherent value.
Premise 2: The preborn are human persons.
Conclusion: Therefore, the preborn have equal dignity and moral worth.
Allow me to rephrase, less clinically: Because Scripture affirms that all human beings have inherent dignity as image-bearers of God, and because the preborn are consistently described in Scripture as fully human persons, it follows that the preborn share the same moral worth, value, and right to protection as all other human beings.
God created every human in his image. Genesis 1:27 says, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Even after the fall, God grounds the value of human life in His image: “for God made man in his own image” (Genesis 9:6). The reversal is also true. No person has been made without God. John 1:3 tells us that, “All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” Because all humans are made by God, they possess inherent value without distinction or qualification. This value does not come from within themselves, but is granted to them according to the image they bear. This is true regardless of gender, ability, status, or desire.
The same God-given worth that belongs to every born human being also belongs to every preborn human being.
Biblical Support for Equal Value
In Luke 1-2, there is a single Greek word used four times. The same word is used a total of eight times in the New Testament. That word is brephos which means baby and is used for both the preborn and the born.
“And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb” (Luke 1:41). The brephos leaped in the womb. Not only does the Bible describe this action from the fetus of John the Baptist, but his adult mother rightly understood. Elizabeth said, “For behold, when the sound of your [Mary’s] greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.” Again, the brephos leaped—or jumped for joy.
Not only is brephos used for the preborn John, but the same word is used for the born Jesus. Luke 2:12 says, “And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger” and again, “They went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger” (Luke 2:16). The newborn brephos is wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.
The word brephos is used for preborn John (Luke 1:41, 44), newborn Jesus (Luke 2:12, 16), infants brought to Jesus (Luke 18:15–17), the babies killed by Pharaoh (Acts 7:19), newborn infants (1 Peter 2:2), and childhood (2 Timothy 3:15). The word is used unqualified for babies in a wide range of development—beginning in the fetal stage until toddler stage.
This little word study for brephos reveals that the biblical authors did not discriminate between born and preborn humans. Regardless of size, level of development, environment, or degree of dependency, Luke, Paul, and Peter rightly understood that humans are made in the image of God.
Some have used Scripture as a defense of abortion. They would argue that life begins at first breath. Their support would be Genesis 2:7 because “God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” While this does teach that Adam’s life began with the breath of life, it says nothing about Eve, who was made from Adam’s rib. Nowhere else does the Bible teach that a person’s life begins at first breath. To the contrary, Scripture regularly affirms life and personhood to preborn humans.
Good Bible readers ought to know the difference between description and prescription. Does Genesis 2:7 describe how God created the first human? Or is it prescribing when life begins for all humans—dust, breath, and all? It seems pretty obvious that this is a descriptive text for the unique, never-before-seen, never-to-be-repeated act of creation. Before Adam, there was no sperm, no egg, no fallopian tube. There was no womb for Adam to go through the gestational cycle from a zygote to a fetus. Therefore, God had breathed life into Adam.
The Bible is replete and resolute with examples of personhood and value being given to the preborn. God knows, forms, and calls human beings before they ever draw breath. David declares that God “knit me together in my mother’s womb” and that his “unformed substance” was seen and known by God (Psalm 139:13–16). The prophet Jeremiah hears the Lord say, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you” (Jeremiah 1:5). Isaiah speaks the same way, describing himself as one whom the Lord “formed from the womb to be his servant” (Isaiah 49:1).
Biblical Anthropology of Human Worth
Allow me to restate my argument: all humans possess inherent value, the preborn are human persons, and therefore the preborn have equal dignity and moral worth.
If someone acknowledges that the preborn child is more than a “clump of cells” and that he or she is a human being made in the image of God, possessing real dignity and worth—then it should at least be understandable why Christians are deeply and morally opposed to abortion. Our conviction comes from a sincere commitment to protect a human life that Scripture identifies as precious.
Former Planned Parenthood Director, Abby Johnson wrote, “Abortion science teaches us that when a woman wants her baby, it’s a baby in the womb. When a woman doesn’t want her baby, it’s a fetus that can be killed and discarded. This is completely illogical. It’s a baby worthy of life regardless of whether the mom wants it or not.”
What Scripture teaches is clear and consistent: the preborn are human persons with equal dignity and moral worth. The implication is unavoidable: abortion is the taking of innocent human life. It is a violation of the Sixth Commandment: “You shall not murder” (Exodus 20:13). To defend the preborn is to stand up for the weak and speak up for the small; Christians view this not only as a political act, but as protecting the life of an innocent image-bearer. This is simply applying the biblical call to “open your mouth for the mute… defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:8–9).
Still, some will suppress this truth—or worse, sear their consciences to avoid the moral weight of it. But value is not assigned on the basis of desire. A child is not valuable only if a mother wants the child, nor does that child lose value if she does not. The child is valuable because God declares it so.
The life of the mother is also profoundly valuable. Therefore, in tragic situations where the lives of the mother or child are threatened, the physician must uphold the duty to “do no harm” and seek to preserve both lives whenever possible. In heartbreaking circumstances such as rape or incest, the child must still be protected; the crime belongs entirely to the perpetrator, who should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. But when pregnancy occurs, there is now another human life present, and that life too must be defended.
I do not say this harshly or without compassion. I feel deep empathy for any woman facing such fear, confusion, and grief. Scripture commands us to comfort the hurting and protect the vulnerable. And it is precisely because the preborn are among the most vulnerable that they also deserve our care, protection, and advocacy.
To affirm the equal humanity of the preborn carries unavoidable moral implications. Morality does not remain private; it shapes every sphere of life. If something is objectively good, it remains good whether culture affirms it or not. If something is objectively evil, it remains evil even when it is socially accepted. Abortion is a sin against both God and neighbor.
But like every sin, there is forgiveness, healing, and hope in Jesus Christ.
How Christians Must Live
Perhaps the Bible was on to something when it commanded us to “speak the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15). The temptation for many Christians is to hide truth behind sentimental love, or to wield truth harshly without compassion. But Scripture allows neither. The call is not half-truth and half-love, but full truth and full love—truth shaped by Scripture and love grounded in Christ.
To overemphasize truth and neglect love is brutal. A Christian who rebukes without gentleness forgets the fruit of the Spirit. The Spirit’s work is marked by “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). It is possible to say the right thing in the wrong way, at the wrong time, or to the wrong person—and be in the wrong. Consider the pastor who tells an abortion-minded woman that abortion is murder and a sin against God. Those statements may be true, but delivered without compassion they risk closing the door to repentance and relationship.
Jesus gives us a better way. When confronted with the woman caught in adultery, He neither denied her sin nor crushed her with it. He led with mercy. “Neither do I condemn you” and then called her to transformation, “Go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11). In the same spirit, Paul urges believers to restore those caught in sin “with a gentle spirit… carrying one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:1–2). The law of Christ is love—not love emptied of truth, but truth carried on the back of love.
When walking with a woman facing an unexpected pregnancy, our posture should reflect that command. She should hear words of compassion before correction: You are loved. You are not alone. Your church will walk with you. Your child is precious in God’s sight. Gentleness does not excuse sin; it creates space for repentance and healing. There is something deeply disarming about being seen honestly and loved still.
On the other hand, to emphasize love while neglecting truth is shallow and ultimately cruel. Scripture was given to “teach, rebuke, correct, and train in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16). Silence may feel kind, but it can become a velvet-covered harm. Pillows are soft, but they can still suffocate. When we avoid truth to preserve comfort, we tacitly affirm whatever someone feels, believes, or intends to do—even when those desires are destructive.
Sometimes correction is the kindest response. Jude calls us to “save others by snatching them from the fire” (Jude 23). That language is urgent—but it is framed by love (Jude 21). Likewise, Paul commands believers to correct opponents “with gentleness,” in hope that God may grant repentance and freedom (2 Timothy 2:25–26). Truth without love hardens; love without truth deceives. Christian faithfulness requires both courage and compassion.
Our goal in every conversation about abortion is life—the life of the baby, the spiritual and emotional life of the parents, and the flourishing life God intends for them in Christ. Abortion is a sin that must be named, but it must be addressed with tears in our eyes, not stones in our hands.
Imagine the abortion-minded woman confiding in you, and instead of condemnation she hears this: Your baby is a gift from God. You are deeply loved—by Him, by me, and by this church. We will walk with you. We will help carry your burdens. And whatever your past holds, Christ died to forgive and redeem it. That conversation is rich with truth and love together—the very ethic Christ calls His people to embody.
To defend preborn life, then, is not merely to win an argument; it is to walk faithfully with people in fear and crisis, speaking truth gently, loving boldly, and reflecting the heart of Christ in both word and deed.
How Government Must Rule
If the preborn are human persons, then the question of public policy cannot be avoided. Scripture teaches that the civil magistrate is ordained by God to restrain evil and uphold justice (Romans 13:1–4). A just people do not measure worth by strength, independence, or visibility; they protect those who cannot protect themselves. Justice requires that the smallest members of the human community receive the greatest protection.
First, policy should reflect the conviction that human worth does not begin at birth. The value of a person cannot depend on geography—inside or outside the womb. Nor on size, health, or wantedness. The state already recognizes that infants, the disabled, and the elderly deserve care and protection because they are vulnerable. The same moral logic necessarily extends to the preborn.
Second, just legislation must be guided by this principle: law teaches morality. Public law cannot change the human heart, but it still matters profoundly because “law is a tutor” (Galatians 3:24). It teaches a people what is honorable and what is shameful, what deserves protection and what deserves restraint. When a society legally protects the preborn, it is not merely regulating behavior; it is forming conscience. When the law treats unborn children as human persons, it helps the culture learn to see them that way.
Third, wise policy must pursue both protection and provision. To defend life means more than criminal restrictions; it also includes support systems that reduce fear and pressure surrounding pregnancy. Public policy should encourage adoption access, maternal healthcare, economic and relational support for vulnerable mothers, and accountability for fathers. In many contexts, there seems to be very little incentive or encouragement for a vulnerable mother to keep her child. To the contrary, there is a loud and intrusive pull toward abortion. Justice requires protection for the child and compassion for the mother—not the sacrifice of one for the sake of the other.
Fourth, Christians must pursue public engagement with humility, courage, and neighborly love. We do not seek political victory for its own sake, and we do not confuse the kingdom of God with the authority of the state. But neither do we abdicate our responsibility to advocate for righteous laws. To work for the protection of preborn life is a moral appeal grounded in the belief that every human being possesses intrinsic worth. It is an insistence for the law to be consistent.
The role of government is limited, but it is not morally neutral. God calls rulers to “give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute” (Psalm 82:3). Isaiah 5:20 says, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!”A society reveals its heart in how it treats the weak. If the preborn are our neighbors—and Scripture declares that they are—then justice demands their defense.
Forgiveness and Restoration in Christ
No conversation about abortion, or any other sin, can end with law alone. The final word must be the good news of Jesus Christ. The gospel speaks into this subject with both honest moral clarity and unending mercy.
Some reading these words may carry heavy wounds—grief, regret, shame, or fear. Whether from abortion, participation in abortion, or silence surrounding it. Others carry pressure, confusion, or trauma from circumstances they did not choose. Scripture does not respond with dismissal or condemnation, but with a better promise: there is forgiveness, healing, and hope in Christ.
Jesus did not come for the righteous, but for sinners (Mark 2:17). “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). All our sins. We cannot out sin the grace of God. The blood of Christ does not minimize our guilt—it meets it and overcomes it. For all who repent and believe, God declares, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). Where sin abounds, grace abounds still more.
Because of this, the church must be a place of truth and restoration—not silence, not shaming, but gospel care. A place where wounds can be spoken aloud without fear, where repentant sinners are embraced, and where broken hearts are gently restored. Our calling is not only to defend life, but to shepherd souls. To walk with the hurting, to grieve with those who grieve, and to proclaim that Christ’s grace is stronger than every regret and every sorrow.
The final word of this discussion is not judgment, but Jesus. The One who forgives sinners, heals the brokenhearted, and promises a day when death and mourning will be no more. In Christ, both the wounded and the repentant find hope—and in Christ, every human life finds its truest dignity, worth, and future.
If all humans are valuable, and the preborn are human, then the preborn are valuable.
