Someone recently argued that Abraham’s polygamy forces a binary choice: either accept it as moral or condemn him as a fornicator [1]. But scripture rarely works in such rigid categories. There are other hermeneutical lenses worth considering. A contextual lens situates Abraham’s actions within his cultural context, recognizing that ancient practices do not necessarily establish timeless moral standards. A theological lens acknowledges that scripture often portrays patriarchs as deeply flawed, yet God still worked through them. A descriptive lens notes that scripture records events without always prescribing them as divine ideals. Finally, a moral-critical lens sees Abraham’s polygamy as a cautionary tale, rather than a model to imitate.

Some defenses of polygamy are collapsed into circular reasoning. One recent proponent put it this way: “Polygamy is chaste because God commanded it, and we know God commanded it because prophets who practiced polygamy are chaste.” The conclusion is assumed in the premise. Even LDS leaders themselves have cautioned against such certainty. President Nelson has observed that “The restoration is a process, not an event, and will continue until the Lord comes again.” Elder Uchtdorf stated, “leaders in the church have simply made mistakes” and “God is perfect and his doctrine is pure, he said, but human beings — including church leaders — are not.” If the restoration is ongoing, and if prophets are not infallible, the prudent course is context-rich interpretation rather than isolated texts [2]. The scriptural record itself resists closure, presenting polygamy not as a flourishing divine ideal but as a practice marked by tension, conflict, and unresolved pain.

Importantly, The Doctrine & Covenants repeatedly reinforces the practice of monogamy (D&C 42:22; 49:16). While D&C 132 is often cited as an endorsement of plural marriage, it can also be read as a context specific to 19th-century Mormon practice rather than a timeless mandate. In line with this, the broader scriptural witness—in the Bible, the Book of Mormon, and elsewhere in the Doctrine & Covenants—consistently upholds monogamy (Gen. 2:24; Jacob 2:27; D&C 42:22; 49:16). Taken together, these texts can be seen as pointing toward a broader truth: scripture does not commend polygamy, but instead reveals it as a pursuit that magnifies inequality and harm.

One interpretive approach is to recognize that scripture does not conceal prophetic flaws, even when they are serious. Their failures remain part of the record, sometimes functioning as cautionary reminders of human limitation. For example, Noah became drunk, lay uncovered in his tent (a scene some interpret as a Hebrew euphemism for sexual activity), and became entangled in family strife. Lot is presented as righteous, even though he fathered children by his daughters after becoming drunk. Abraham lied about Sarah being his sister and fathered a child with Hagar, which led to jealousy and abuse. Moses struck the rock in anger instead of obeying God’s command. David committed adultery with Bathsheba and arranged the death of Uriah. Solomon, with his many wives, was led into idolatry. Jonah fled from God’s call to preach to Nineveh. Peter denied Christ three times. 

Biblical examples of polygamy—Abraham and Hagar, Jacob with Leah and Rachel, David and Solomon—leads to jealousy, family strife, or outright apostasy. A plausible reading, then, is that scripture does not celebrate polygamy but reveals its consequences. The women are left sorrowing, competing, or betrayed. Instead of praising polygamy, scripture can be interpreted as highlighting the jealousy, anguish, and downfall it causes (Jacob 2:27–35). It’s also another reminder that scripture doesn’t sanitize its characters; it records both faithfulness and failure.

Acknowledging the flaws of biblical prophets invites believers to grapple with the complexity and nuance of scripture. Extending that lens to modern LDS prophets, however, can feel more threatening, because it unsettles cherished identities and narratives about the restoration itself. Yet just as the Bible portrays prophets who were deeply human and often fallible, the same holds true for modern LDS leaders. Just as scripture records the flaws of ancient figures, the Latter-day Saint tradition also bears witness to prophetic actions that created profound harm. Joseph Smith entered into secret plural marriages, some with teenagers, some already married, at times without Emma’s knowledge. This secrecy and asymmetry caused great pain and division among early saints and certainly in Joseph and Emma’s marriage.

Under Brigham Young’s leadership, polygamy was expanded dramatically and was institutionalized. His management of it often reinforced deeply androcentric hierarchies, with women’s autonomy and well-being subordinated to communal and male-centered aims [3]. Brigham Young’s leadership shows how prophetic imperfection can have horrific consequences. His rhetoric of siege and hostility likely contributed to the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Brigham Young argued that it was more humane for Latter-day Saints to “buy” Native children and then indenture them than allow their sale to New Mexican traders, though some argue it effectively sanctioned the Native slave trade. The 1852 Act in Relation to Service legalized Black slavery in Utah, framing it as regulated “servitude,” but some feel it codified Young’s racial prejudice [4]. Young also instituted the priesthood and temple ban for Black members in 1852, declaring that people of African descent could not hold the priesthood or participate in temple ordinances. This policy persisted until 1978 and is one of the most consequential legacies of his tenure. 

It is worth remembering that most of our scriptures — and the religions built on them — came to us through androcentric societies, interpreted, translated, and codified largely by white men whose own hegemonic, patriarchal worldviews inevitably shaped what was taught as “truth.” As Michel Foucault points out, what a culture comes to regard as truth often reflects the perspectives, and what feels normal, familiar, and reasonable, to those who have the greatest influence over public discourse [5]. This doesn’t mean they are acting with ill intent or aware of the assumptions they carry. It also doesn’t mean God is absent, or that truth is relative. It does suggest caution before canonizing every practice as divine law. After all, Jesus himself flipped hierarchies on their head when he said, ‘the last shall be first, and the first last’ (Matt. 20:16). If that’s the case, then some of our so-called “principles” may be little more than androcentric constructions — the very sort of thing heaven is poised to turn upside down.

We are subjected to the production of truth through power and we cannot exercise power except through the production of truth. Power never ceases its interrogation, its inquisition, its registration of truth: it institutionalizes, it professionalizes, it rewards.

~ Michel Foucault

Joseph Smith compared himself to a rough, imperfect stone being slowly polished by experience: “I am a plain, rough man. A man that has got the use of the common sense, [6] and can reason with any man… I am like a huge, rough stone rolling down from a high mountain; and the only polishing I get is when some corner gets rubbed off by coming in contact with something else, striking with accelerated force… thus I will become a smooth and polished shaft in the quiver of the Almighty” [7]. This, I think, is about as much as we can hope for in mortality: a faith grounded in reality, tempered by intellectual and theological humility, shaped by spiritual growth, and sustained by the honesty to recognize that even prophets — and their teachings — can be rough and imperfect, still in the process of being polished. That doesn’t diminish God’s work; it shows that revelation comes through human vessels who are themselves learning and growing.

— The phrase, “common sense,” meant far more in Joseph’s era than mere practicality. I unpack it in the notes.

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Complicating the Case for Polygamy

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Taken together, these “proof texts” suggest that across the standard works, monogamy may reflect the divine ideal, while polygamy is depicted as harmful or a contextual exception.

Old Testament

Genesis 2:24 / Moses 3:24 — God’s creation ideal: “a man… shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” Singular, covenantal union.

Deuteronomy 17:17 — God’s warning about kings: “Neither shall he multiply wives to himself, that his heart turn not away.”

1 Kings 11:1–4 — Solomon’s downfall: “But king Solomon loved many strange women… and his wives turned away his heart after other gods.” Clear example of polygamy → idolatry → spiritual collapse.

Malachi 2:14–15 — God condemns betrayal of “the wife of thy youth” and upholds covenantal monogamy for “godly seed.”

New Testament

Matthew 19:4–6 — Jesus cites Genesis: “They twain shall be one flesh… What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” He reaffirms monogamy as the norm.

1 Timothy 3:2, 12 — Early Christian leaders (bishops, deacons) must be “the husband of one wife.”

Book of Mormon

Jacob 2:27–28 — “There shall not any man among you have save it be one wife; and concubines he shall have none.”

Jacob 2:31–35 — God condemns polygamy as causing the “mourning of the daughters of my people” and bringing destruction.

Doctrine & Covenants

D&C 42:22 — “Thou shalt love thy wife with all thy heart, and shalt cleave unto her and none else.”

D&C 49:16 — “…it is lawful that he should have one wife, and they twain shall be one flesh.

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Notes

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[1] This comment is presented anonymously out of respect for the individual. It is not intended as a personal critique, but as a representative example of a broader interpretive dilemma that helped shape the exploration in this article.

[2] The Temple and Your Spiritual Foundation, The Ongoing Restoration

[3] This is my own assertion and claim resulting from reading many accounts and oral histories of LDS polygamists.

[4] W. Paul Reeve, Religion of a Different Color: Race and the Mormon Struggle for Whiteness (Oxford University Press, 2015), pp. 158–165.

[5] Foucault, Michel. Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972–1977. Edited by Colin Gordon. New York: Pantheon, 1980, 93. 

[6] The Great Awakenings—a series of religious revivals beginning in the 18th century—stoked fervent, emotional, and experiential Christianity. Many evangelical leaders adopted a form of “commonsense” moral philosophy that balanced individual rational judgment with heartfelt belief. This combination led to a distinctive interpretive method recognized as common-sense. Believers were encouraged to read the Bible for themselves, guided by straightforward reasoning and personal conviction. These currents helped cultivate an American religious landscape where individuals felt both empowered and obligated to engage scripture directly. Reasoning was not the exclusive domain of clergy, it was something the “common man” could claim and apply, an energy that fueled religious enthusiasm and conversion in the early Republic. By Joseph Smith’s time, this philosophical, intellectual and religious ideology had saturated American Protestant thought.

Evangelical preachers during the Second Great Awakening often invoked “common sense” to legitimize individual interpretation of scripture. Joseph Smith did something very similar: he taught that revelation could be received by ordinary people, and that spiritual experience was accessible without elite mediation. His “rolling stone” metaphor reinforces this: he wasn’t refined by book-learning or institutional training, but by lived experience, and divine intervention.

[7] History of the Church, 6:366, April 7, 1844, King Follett discourse.