Does the Bible promote polygamy?
Stand in any Christian wedding and you'll hear Genesis quoted: 'The two shall become one flesh.' Every defense of biblical marriage faces the same challenge: If God designed marriage for one man and one woman, why did He allow His chosen leaders to practice polygamy? Critics call it hypocrisy. Skeptics call it contradiction. Today, we're discovering why what looks like biblical inconsistency actually reveals something profound about God's perfect plan.
Welcome back to Word for Word. You know, I remember the first time a friend hit me with this question. We were sitting in a coffee shop, and he'd just finished reading through Genesis. "So, Austin," he said, leaning back with that look people get when they think they've found a checkmate argument, "you Christians talk about biblical marriage being one man and one woman. But what about Abraham? Jacob? David? Solomon? God's chosen people were polygamists. All of them."
And here's the thing, he had a point. At least, on the surface.
Because if you open your Bible and start reading through the Old Testament, you're going to encounter a parade of multiple wives. Abraham had Sarah and Hagar. Jacob had Leah and Rachel (plus their handmaids). David had at least eight wives. And Solomon? The man had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines. I mean, that's not just polygamy—that's a small nation.
So the question stands: Does the Bible promote polygamy?
And this matters. It matters because skeptics use these passages to undermine biblical authority. It matters because it affects how we understand marriage in a culture that's redefining it daily. And it matters because if we can't make sense of this, we're going to struggle with a lot of other difficult passages in Scripture. So today, I want to show you something that informed how I read the Old Testament. The Bible is brutally honest about the lives of its heroes, more honest than any other ancient religious text. And when you understand how it tells these stories, you'll see that what looks like divine approval is actually divine instruction through consequence.
So here it is in short: The Bible records polygamy historically but doesn't promote it, demonstrating instead its negative consequences while pointing toward God's original design for marriage.
Now, that might sound like apologetic gymnastics. Like I'm trying to explain away something embarrassing. But stick with me. Because when we look at the biblical context, address common misconceptions, examine the actual results of polygamy in Scripture, and circle back to God's design, I think you're going to see that the Bible's treatment of polygamy is actually one of the strongest evidences for its divine inspiration. Let's ground ourselves in Scripture. Turn with me to Genesis 2:24:
"That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh."
This is day six of creation. This is before sin. This is God's design, unveiled at the very dawn of human history. One man. One woman. One flesh. Jesus Himself quotes this verse in Matthew 19 when the Pharisees try to trap Him with questions about divorce. And notice what Jesus emphasizes: "the two shall become one flesh." Not three. Not seven. Two.
From the beginning, the biblical ideal is monogamy, not polygamy.
So what happened? How did we get from Eden's one-flesh union to Solomon's thousand-woman harem? That's what we're going to unpack today.
Part One: Biblical Context. Monogamy by Design, Polygamy in History
Creation's Blueprint
Let's start at the beginning. And I mean the beginning.
Genesis 1 and 2 give us the foundation for everything the Bible teaches about marriage. God creates Adam—one man. Then God says something fascinating: "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."
Now, here's what God doesn't do. He doesn't create multiple wives for Adam. He doesn't say, "I'll make helpers—plural—suitable for him." No, God creates one woman, Eve, and presents her to Adam. And Adam's response? Poetry. "This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh." It's the Bible's first love song.
Then comes that verse we started with—Genesis 2:24. This isn't just describing what happened with Adam and Eve. This is prescriptive. This is God saying, "Here's how marriage is supposed to work: a man leaves his parents, unites with his wife—singular—and the two become one flesh."
As one scholar put it, "the union of the two in marriage is to be an exclusive, permanent, God-sealed bond." There's no asterisk here. No fine print saying "unless you're really wealthy" or "unless you want more kids" or "unless your culture says it's okay."
One man. One woman. One flesh. That's the blueprint.
And here's what's important: this is before the Fall. Before sin. Before corruption. Before human beings started messing everything up. This is God's perfect design in a perfect world.
Think about it: if God wanted to establish polygamy as the standard, Genesis 2 was His moment. He could have created two or three wives for Adam. He could have set up a different pattern. But He didn't. Monogamy is built into the architecture of creation.
The Cultural Complication
But then sin enters the picture. And with sin comes all kinds of distortions of God's good design—including distortions of marriage.
By the time we get to Genesis 4, we meet Lamech. He's a descendant of Cain, and Genesis 4:19 tells us he "took two wives." This is the Bible's first mention of polygamy, and it's not exactly a ringing endorsement. Lamech is portrayed as violent and arrogant—hardly a model citizen. Right out of the gate, polygamy is associated with humanity's fallen state, not God's perfect design.
Now, here's where context becomes crucial. The Old Testament wasn't written in a vacuum. It was written in a specific time and place—the ancient Near East, roughly 2000-400 BC. And in that world, polygamy was common among certain groups, particularly the wealthy and powerful.
Kings took multiple wives to form political alliances. Men took second wives when the first couldn't have children. Women faced incredibly harsh realities if they were widowed or unmarried—there was no social security, no employment opportunities, no safety net. Marriage was often their only option for survival and protection.
Now, this doesn't justify polygamy. But it helps us understand why it existed. Polygamy in the ancient world often functioned as a primitive form of social welfare—a way to ensure women and children weren't left destitute.
The Bible is a product of its time in the sense that it addresses people in their historical context. But—and this is critical—being contextualized doesn't mean being compromised. The Bible meets people where they are, but it always points them toward something better.
Here's an important statistic that might surprise you: despite the prominence of polygamy in certain biblical narratives, analysis of the Old Testament identifies only about thirty-three cases of polygamy out of approximately three thousand named marriages. That's roughly one percent. Even in the ancient world, among God's people, monogamy was overwhelmingly the norm.
The polygamous marriages we do read about? They're almost exclusively among the wealthy elite—kings, patriarchs, leaders. This wasn't your average Israelite family. Most people were too poor to support multiple wives. Polygamy was a luxury of the powerful, which tells us something important: it was often driven by pride, status, and desire for heirs, not by God's endorsement.
Recording vs. Endorsing
Now we come to the crux of the matter. And I cannot overstate how important this distinction is:
The Bible recording something is not the same as the Bible endorsing something.
I’ll say it again because this principle will revolutionize how you read difficult Old Testament passages:
The Bible recording something is not the same as the Bible endorsing something.
The Bible records lies—that doesn't mean God endorses lying. The Bible records murder—that doesn't mean God endorses murder. The Bible records David's adultery with Bathsheba—that doesn't mean God endorsed it. In fact, God sent Nathan the prophet to rebuke David, and the consequences of that sin rippled through David's entire family.
Scripture is brutally, uncomfortably honest about the failures of its heroes. This is actually one of the strongest arguments for the Bible's divine inspiration. Think about it: if human beings were making up a religious text to promote their leaders and make themselves look good, would they include all the embarrassing details?
Would they tell you that Noah got drunk and naked? That Abraham lied about his wife being his sister—twice? That Moses murdered an Egyptian? That David committed adultery and murder? That Peter denied Jesus three times? That the disciples constantly misunderstood Jesus and argued about who was greatest?
No propaganda works like this. Real history does.
And the same principle applies to polygamy. The Bible tells us these men had multiple wives. But if you read carefully—and I mean really carefully—you'll notice something: God never commands polygamy. He never prescribes it. He never celebrates it.
In fact, let's look at Deuteronomy 17:14-17, which contains God's instructions for future kings of Israel:
"When you enter the land the Lord your God is giving you and have taken possession of it and settled in it, and you say, 'Let us set a king over us like all the nations around us,'... The king, moreover, must not acquire great numbers of horses for himself... He must not take many wives, or his heart will be led astray. He must not accumulate large amounts of silver and gold."
There it is, in black and white. God's law explicitly warns against kings taking many wives. Why? Because "his heart will be led astray." God knows what polygamy does—He knows it divides loyalties, creates jealousy, and leads to spiritual compromise.
Now, did the kings obey this? No. David didn't. Solomon certainly didn't. But their disobedience doesn't change what God's law actually said. The commands were clear. The violations were... well, violations.
Here's another key passage. Leviticus 18:18 says:
"Do not take your wife's sister as a rival wife and have sexual relations with her while your wife is living."
Some people read this and think, "See? The Bible regulates polygamy, so it must approve of it." But that's like saying the Bible approves of murder because it regulates cities of refuge for manslayers. Or that it approves of slavery because it regulates treatment of slaves.
The biblical law codes often function like traffic laws in a fallen world. They don't describe the ideal; they limit damage in a broken system. God is saying, "Look, I know you're going to deviate from My design. So if you're going to do this, here are boundaries to prevent the absolute worst outcomes." It's what I call "damage control theology." God meets people in their sinfulness and says, "Okay, you're going to do this wrong. But let Me at least protect the most vulnerable while I continue pointing you toward what's right."
This is actually a theme throughout the Old Testament law. Divorce wasn't God's ideal—Jesus makes that clear in Matthew 19—but God regulated it to protect women. Slavery wasn't God's ideal—the entire exodus narrative shows God breaking the chains of slavery—but God regulated it to protect slaves. Polygamy wasn't God's ideal—Genesis 2 makes that clear—but God regulated it to protect women in an already-broken system.
But regulation is not endorsement. Accommodation is not approval.
And here's the thing that should really drive this home: the biblical narrative itself becomes the commentary. You don't need an editor's note saying "By the way, polygamy is bad." The stories themselves reveal the consequences. Which brings us to our next point...
Part Two: The Consequences. When the Story Becomes the Sermon
If you want to understand what the Bible actually teaches about polygamy, don't just read what the Bible says. Watch what happens.
Because every—and I mean every—detailed account of polygamy in Scripture results in disaster. Family strife. Jealousy. Violence. Spiritual compromise. Generational trauma. It's like God is saying through the narrative itself, "You want to see where this leads? Watch and learn."
Here are some examples, and as we talk about these, I want you to notice a pattern.
Abraham and the Family Fracture
We'll start with Abraham, the father of faith. God promises Abraham that he'll have offspring as numerous as the stars. But there's a problem: his wife Sarah is barren, and they're both old.
So Sarah comes up with what seems like a practical solution. "Look," she says, "take my servant Hagar. Sleep with her. Maybe I can build a family through her." This was actually a common practice in ancient Mesopotamia—if a wife couldn't conceive, she could give her maid to her husband as a surrogate.
Abraham agrees. Hagar conceives. And immediately, everything falls apart.
Genesis 16:4 tells us that when Hagar knew she was pregnant, "she began to despise her mistress." Sarah is furious and bitter, and tells Abraham, "This is all your fault!" (Even though it was her idea.) Abraham basically says, "She's your servant, do what you want." And Sarah mistreats Hagar so badly that Hagar runs away into the desert.
Think about that. A pregnant woman fleeing into the wilderness because the family situation has become unbearable. This is not a happy household.
God intervenes, tells Hagar to go back, and promises her that her son will be "a wild donkey of a man" who will be "against everyone." Great. That's comforting.
Fast forward. Sarah finally has a son—Isaac, the child of promise. Now there are two sons, two mothers, and a whole lot of tension. Eventually Sarah demands that Abraham send Hagar and Ishmael away. And Abraham does, with deep pain. Genesis 21:11 says "the matter distressed Abraham greatly because it concerned his son."
Here's the result: two sons of Abraham become the fathers of nations that will be in conflict for millennia. The Jewish-Arab tensions that continue to this day trace back, at least in part, to this family fracture. One man, two women, generational consequences.
The Bible doesn't need to add commentary. The story itself is the sermon.
Jacob's Complicated Love Life
Then there's Jacob. If you thought Abraham's situation was messy, buckle up.
Jacob wants to marry Rachel. He's in love with her. He works seven years for her father Laban to earn the right to marry her. The wedding day comes, and Laban pulls a fast one—he gives Jacob his older daughter Leah instead, exploiting wedding customs and darkness to make the switch.
Jacob wakes up the next morning married to the wrong woman. He's furious. But Laban says, "Hey, finish the wedding week with Leah, and then you can marry Rachel too. Just work for me another seven years."
So Jacob ends up with two wives—the one he loves (Rachel) and the one he was tricked into marrying (Leah). And the Bible is heartbreakingly honest about the favoritism: Genesis 29:30 says plainly, "Jacob loved Rachel more than Leah."
What happens next is like a tragic reality TV show.
Leah has children. Rachel doesn't. Leah feels unloved but finds worth in bearing sons. Rachel feels loved but incomplete without children. The rivalry escalates. Rachel gives Jacob her servant Bilhah as a wife. Not to be outdone, Leah (who has stopped having children temporarily) gives Jacob her servant Zilpah.
Now Jacob has four wives. And they're in a child-bearing arms race.
Genesis 30 records one of the most bizarre passages in all of Scripture. Leah's son Reuben finds mandrakes in the field (which were thought to enhance fertility). Rachel wants them. So Rachel strikes a deal: "Let me have the mandrakes, and Jacob can sleep with you tonight."
Did you catch that? Rachel is literally bartering away a night with her husband for fertility herbs. And the text says Leah went out to meet Jacob in the field and told him, "You must sleep with me. I have hired you with my son's mandrakes."
"I have hired you."
This is not a picture of marital harmony. This is a household of competition, manipulation, and pain.
The consequences don't stop there. The rivalry between the mothers will be inherited by the sons. Remember Joseph and his coat of many colors? Why did Joseph's brothers hate him so much they sold him into slavery? Because Jacob favored Rachel, so he favored Rachel's son, so the sons of Leah and the handmaids grew up bitter and resentful.
Family dysfunction. Sibling rivalry. Near-murder. All traceable back to the polygamous family structure.
David's Multiplied Troubles
David, the man after God's own heart, had at least eight wives that we know of by name, and probably more. And while David was indeed chosen by God, his family life was an absolute catastrophe.
His son Amnon raped his half-sister Tamar (daughter of a different wife). Absalom (Tamar's full brother) waited two years and then murdered Amnon in revenge. Absalom later rebelled against David, declared himself king, and publicly slept with David's concubines on the roof of the palace as an act of ultimate humiliation and political statement.
Later, another son, Adonijah, tried to seize the throne before David died, leading to more family conflict and, eventually, his own execution.
David's household is marked by rape, murder, rebellion, civil war, and assassination. And while we can't attribute all of this solely to polygamy, the biblical narrative strongly implies that the dysfunctional family structure contributed to the chaos.
When you have multiple wives and children by different mothers all competing for position, favor, and inheritance, you create a perfect storm for jealousy and violence.
Solomon's Spectacular Failure
But the most devastating example is Solomon.
First Kings 11:1-3 tells us Solomon "loved many foreign women"—700 wives of royal birth and 300 concubines. The text immediately explains the problem: "His wives turned his heart after other gods."
Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, the one who built God's temple, the one who wrote Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, ended his life building shrines to foreign gods because his wives led him into idolatry.
This is the exact thing Deuteronomy 17 warned about: "He must not take many wives, or his heart will be led astray."
And the consequences? God told Solomon that the kingdom would be torn from his son's hand. One united Israel would become two divided kingdoms—Israel and Judah—setting the stage for centuries of conflict, weakness, and eventually exile.
One man's polygamy contributed to national collapse.
The Consistent Pattern
Do you see the pattern? Every single detailed account of polygamy in Scripture follows the same trajectory:
Multiple wives enter the picture
Rivalry and jealousy develop
Family dysfunction escalates
Violence or spiritual compromise follows
Generational consequences ripple outward
It's like God is using these stories as case studies. "You want to know what happens when you deviate from My design? Here's Abraham's family. Here's Jacob's family. Here's David's family. Here's Solomon's family. Look at the wreckage. Learn from their mistakes."
As one scholar noted, "The Bible's honest reporting of polygamy, complete with unflinching documentation of its destructive effects, actually validates Scripture's divine origin. Human authors protecting their religious heroes would have either hidden their polygamy or presented it more favorably."
The Bible doesn't need to add footnotes condemning polygamy. The narratives themselves are the condemnation.
And here's what makes this so powerful: these aren't peripheral characters. These are the heroes of the faith. Abraham, Jacob, David—these are the pillars of Israel's identity. And the Bible refuses to whitewash their failures.
That's the mark of genuine history, not propaganda. That's the mark of divine inspiration that values truth over reputation.
Part Three: God's Design Restored. The New Testament Vision
So if the Old Testament gives us a complicated picture—God's clear design at creation, followed by human deviation, followed by tragic consequences—what happens when we get to the New Testament?
The New Testament doesn't just return to God's original standard. It elevates it. It shows us that marriage was always meant to be more than a social contract or a survival strategy. Marriage was meant to be a sign—a living picture of the gospel itself.
Jesus Reaffirms the Genesis Standard
Let's look at Matthew 19, where the Pharisees are trying to trap Jesus with a question about divorce. They ask, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any and every reason?"
Watch Jesus' response. He doesn't start with Moses' law. He goes all the way back to Genesis:
"Haven't you read," he replied, "that at the beginning the Creator 'made them male and female,' and said, 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh'? So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate."
Jesus is resetting the conversation. He's saying, "You want to know God's design for marriage? Go back to Eden. Before sin. Before compromise. Before accommodation. That's your blueprint."
Notice He says "the two will become one flesh." Not three. Not seven hundred. Two.
When the Pharisees push back—"Then why did Moses allow divorce?"—Jesus gives them a stunning answer: "Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning."
In other words: "Moses made concessions because you were broken. But concessions aren't the ideal. God's design hasn't changed just because you've been unfaithful to it."
The same logic applies to polygamy. God's design hasn't changed. What was true in Eden is still true. One man, one woman, one flesh.
Paul Reveals the Mystery
But Paul takes it even further. In Ephesians 5, he's giving instructions about marriage, and then he drops this bomb:
"'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church."
Do you see what Paul is saying? Marriage isn't just about companionship or procreation or social stability. Marriage is a picture. It's a living metaphor. It points to something infinitely greater: the relationship between Christ and His Church.
Christ is the bridegroom. The Church is His bride. And this union is exclusive, permanent, and self-sacrificial.
How many brides does Christ have? One. The Church.
How many bridegrooms does the Church have? One. Christ.
The exclusivity of Christian marriage isn't arbitrary. It's theological. It reflects the very nature of the gospel.
This is why polygamy doesn't just fail practically—it fails theologically. A man with multiple wives distorts the picture. It suggests that Christ has multiple brides competing for His affection, or that the Church is divided in its loyalty. Neither is true.
Monogamous marriage tells the story of the gospel. Polygamy garbles that story beyond recognition.
Paul makes this explicit in other places too. In 1 Timothy 3:2, when he's listing qualifications for church leadership, he says an overseer must be "the husband of one wife." Same requirement for deacons in 1 Timothy 3:12.
This wasn't just about personal morality. This was about representing the gospel faithfully. Church leaders were to embody in their marriages the faithful, exclusive love of Christ for His Church.
The Trajectory of Scripture
Here's how I want you to think about this. The Bible has a trajectory—a direction it's moving. And that direction is always toward God's original design and ultimate glory.
Creation shows us God's perfect design: one man, one woman, united in exclusive covenant.
The Fall introduces corruption and distortion of that design.
The Old Testament records the mess humans make, while God works patiently through history, regulating damage and pointing people back toward His standard.
The New Testament, through Jesus, restores and elevates the original standard, showing us that marriage was always meant to reflect the gospel.
And in Revelation, we get the ultimate picture: the marriage supper of the Lamb, where Christ the Bridegroom is finally, fully united with His Bride the Church in perfect, eternal, exclusive union.
From Genesis to Revelation, the arc bends toward monogamy. Not because God's standard changed, but because God's people are finally being transformed to align with that standard.
The question isn't "Why did God tolerate polygamy in the Old Testament?" The question is "Why did God patiently work with stubborn, sinful people to move them toward His design?" And the answer is grace. Patient, persistent, redemptive grace.
Part Four: Application. How to Read This for Our Lives Today
So what do we do with all this? How does understanding polygamy in the Bible help us today? Here are four practical applications.
1. Learn to Read Scripture with Nuance
Not everything recorded in the Bible is prescribed by the Bible. This principle will unlock so many difficult passages for you.
When you read about polygamy, slavery, holy war, animal sacrifice, or any number of challenging Old Testament issues, ask yourself:
Is this described or prescribed?
Is this God's design or human deviation?
Is this the ideal or the accommodation?
What are the consequences in the narrative itself?
The Bible is not a flat book. It has movement, development, and progressive revelation. God meets people where they are and moves them toward where they should be. Understanding this doesn't undermine biblical authority—it actually enhances it, because it shows us how God really works in human history.
2. Anchor Your Ethics in Creation and Consummation
Whenever you're trying to figure out God's true standard on any issue, look at two places: creation and consummation. The beginning and the end.
What was God's design before sin entered the world? What will be the reality when sin is finally eliminated?
With marriage, Genesis 2 shows us God's design: one man, one woman. Revelation 19 shows us the ultimate fulfillment: Christ and His Bride. Everything in between is a journey from the first to the second, often messy, but always purposeful.
This principle applies to other ethical questions too. Want to know God's heart about work? Look at Eden. Want to know God's heart about unity? Look at the New Jerusalem. The bookends of Scripture give us the clearest picture of God's will.
3. Defend Biblical Marriage with Confidence
In our culture, marriage is being redefined constantly. And Christians often feel defensive, like we're clinging to outdated traditions.
But here's what this study should show you: biblical marriage isn't arbitrary. It's not culturally conditioned. It's built into creation and reflects the gospel.
When someone asks, "Why does the Bible care who people marry?" you can answer with confidence:
Because marriage matters to God
Because marriage was designed to reflect His relationship with us
Because history shows us that deviating from His design leads to brokenness
Because Jesus Himself affirmed the Genesis standard
You don't have to be embarrassed about biblical marriage. The pattern of Scripture, the testimony of creation, the clarity of Jesus' teaching, and the mess of every alternative all point in the same direction.
4. Extend Grace While Holding Truth
Here's the final application, and it's crucial: understanding God's design doesn't mean we treat people harshly when they fall short of it.
Even in cultures today where polygamy is practiced, the gospel still calls us to truth and grace. We don't demand that a man who converts to Christianity immediately divorce his multiple wives—that would create more harm and leave vulnerable women without provision. But we do teach the next generation God's design and call new believers to monogamous marriage.
This is exactly the principle God used in the Old Testament. He didn't destroy Israel for their deviations. He worked patiently, regulated damage, and kept pointing them forward.
We're called to do the same. Speak truth clearly. Hold to God's standards firmly. But treat broken people—which includes all of us—with the same patient grace God has shown us.
Jesus was full of grace and truth. Not grace or truth. Both. Always both.
When someone's marriage doesn't reflect God's design—whether because of divorce, remarriage, past choices, or cultural background—our job isn't to condemn. Our job is to point them to Jesus, who restores what's broken and makes all things new.
The Story Behind the Stories
The Bible's treatment of polygamy is actually one of the most brilliant aspects of Scripture. Instead of giving us a straightforward prohibition that might have alienated ancient readers, God gave us something more powerful: story.
He showed us Abraham's family torn apart by rivalry. He showed us Jacob's household consumed by competition. He showed us David's children murdering each other. He showed us Solomon led into idolatry. And He let those stories do the teaching.
When the narrative is the sermon, the lesson sinks deeper.
But beyond the individual stories, there's a meta-story—a larger narrative about God's patience, grace, and redemptive purposes. From Genesis to Revelation, God is working to restore His original design, to bring His people back to what He intended from the beginning.
That's the heart of the gospel, isn't it? God created us for perfect relationship with Him and each other. We broke that relationship through sin. And God, rather than abandoning us, entered into our brokenness to lead us back to wholeness.
He did it with marriage. He's doing it with every aspect of human life. And ultimately, He did it perfectly through Jesus—entering into our fallen world, taking on our brokenness, dying for our sins, and rising to restore us to the life we were meant to live.
So when critics point to polygamy and say, "See? The Bible is inconsistent. God changes His mind. Biblical morality is arbitrary"—we can respond with confidence:
No. God's design has never changed. What you're seeing is God's patience with stubborn, sinful people as He works through history to move them toward that design. What you're seeing is God meeting people where they are while never giving up on where they should be. What you're seeing is the same grace we all need—the grace to be loved in our brokenness while being called to something better.
Recording isn't endorsing. Regulating isn't approving. And narrative consequence is divine commentary.
The Bible doesn't promote polygamy. But it does promote something even better: God's unwavering commitment to His original design and His patient work to restore it in us. That's the message of polygamy in Scripture. Not "anything goes." Not "God doesn't care." But "God's design is perfect, humans deviate, and God works patiently to bring us back."
Which is, when you think about it, the message of the entire Bible. From Eden to the New Jerusalem. From one-flesh union to the marriage supper of the Lamb. From what we broke to what God restores.
That's the story behind the stories. And it's a story worth believing.
