On Monogamy, Polygamy, Polygyny, and Polyandry
On Monogamy, Polygamy, Polygyny, and Polyandry
From the look of the words, mono simply means one, and poly means more than one. So, monogamy is about one man and one wife, while the poly- terms refer to either a man with more than one wife or a woman with more than one husband.
Now, from the Biblical angle, we’re told that Moses wrote Genesis, and that’s where the first picture of marriage came from—God made one woman for one man. He didn’t go to another town or tribe to get her; He made her right from the man’s rib. That woman became his wife. So Genesis, being the book of beginnings and confirmed by Jesus later on, shows us what God originally had in mind. And Moses and Jesus? They weren’t just random characters; they were men of a special breed—God’s own chosen.
So you could say that while other human beings already walked the earth, God decided to make His own line of people—special ones. Adam and Eve were the first of that kind. And through their line came prophets, kings, and leaders. But even among them, some crossed outside the family line. Adam and Eve set the ball rolling, and the mixing of lineages began. Ruth wasn’t originally part of that chosen fold, but she married into it and later showed up in the family tree of Jesus.
The Old Testament was heavily focused on the Jews—the chosen ones. Whenever it mentioned the coming of a Messiah, the Jews expected someone who would raise them high, someone who would put them back on top of the world. But the truth? They weren’t much different from everyone else. They had their fair share of great leaders, but they also faced downfall when those leaders were absent. They were captured, scattered, and even slaughtered. So, to them, the Messiah would be the ultimate fixer—a man to set their house in order.
But when Jesus showed up, his script was completely different. He wasn’t just for the Jews. He came for everyone. And this threw many people off balance. How could their promised Messiah now be telling stories about saving the whole world? This was a huge reason why the leaders of his time didn’t buy into his message. But what they didn’t know was that Jesus was opening the gate for people like me—people who weren’t born into that special line. Through him, I’m promised a seat at the table if I just believe. That’s easier for someone like me to accept because I’m being offered more. But for someone raised in the old way—someone grounded in law and tradition—Jesus sounded like a complete stranger.
And that’s the irony. Today, many Gentiles almost worship Jesus as God, while the people from his own line see him as just a prophet. Maybe that’s why he appears to people based on how they see him.
Paul, one of Jesus’ strongest voices after the resurrection, was a man who understood both sides. He grew up under the law but later embraced grace. His letters reflect someone who had lived in both camps. Even though he wrote powerfully, his actions pointed back to Jesus’ lifestyle whenever he addressed how people should behave. Jesus became the new standard, just like Moses was the old one.
Now, this whole reflection is simply to set the stage. Every reference I’ll make is from the Bible—not from any other book or belief.
According to Moses, Adam had only one wife. She came from him, not from another tribe or race. If God wanted to maintain that special lineage, He wouldn’t have picked a gentile woman for Adam. Instead, He made the woman from Adam himself. Even after they followed their own desires, they still stayed together till the end. But after that, God took a step back. He let man begin to figure things out on his own, often copying the ways of the surrounding nations.
Take Abraham. He was a friend of God, rich and blessed in all things. He had Sarah, but when she couldn’t have a child quickly, he went to her maid Hagar and had Ishmael. Later, Sarah gave birth to Isaac. After her death, Abraham still had more children by other women. Ishmael, the firstborn, is said to be the father of the Arab nations—and he also took multiple wives. Isaac, father of the Israelites, had only Rebekah.
From there, the pattern continued. Some of their children had one wife, others had more. But when kings came into the picture, they changed the game. Saul had a wife and a concubine. David had seven or eight wives. Solomon took things even further with 300 wives and 700 concubines. And it didn’t stop there.
Sometimes they married for political peace, other times for personal reasons. But where do you draw the line between what’s necessary and what’s excessive? It’s a fine line, often invisible without light and truth. That’s why Solomon himself, in his proverbs and songs, warned kings against marrying too many wives. His biggest mistake wasn’t necessarily the number—it was letting those wives pull his heart away from God. And maybe that same heart drifted down through his children and grandchildren.
But things changed with the New Testament. Now, it’s not about rules; it’s about the Spirit guiding us. Back then, laws were written because people had lost their way. Paul even called those laws bondage—but only in contrast to the new freedom brought by Jesus. Yet for those outside of Jesus, those same laws still apply. That’s why governments today still operate under rules and systems.
If Jesus walked our streets today, he wouldn’t break a single law in any country. His life was the definition of truth. He lived a life that pleased God and helped man. But it wasn’t just about copying him—his power came from the Spirit. That same Spirit is now promised to anyone who wants to live like him. Still, even with all that perfection, Jesus was killed. That was his assignment. His followers followed suit.
When Jesus reached that age where people expected him to settle down, he faced all kinds of questions about marriage and polygamy. Most of those asking were scholars. They read the words of Moses, knew the law, but still followed their own flesh. They obeyed the easy parts, and when they slipped, they justified themselves by pointing to prophets who had done similar things.
Jesus answered carefully. When asked about polygamy, he pointed back to Genesis —he gave Caesar what was Caesar’s and gave God what was God’s.
And yet, Jesus could have silenced all the debates by simply marrying. But he didn’t.
There’s even that parable about ten virgins waiting for the bridegroom. Five came prepared, five didn’t. Only five went in with the bridegroom. Now think about it—why would a bridegroom be linked to ten virgins? What does he want with all of them if not marriage? Jesus spoke in parables. And he was smart. He had disciples who were married. He knew kings tended to have many wives. But when asked, he always went back to the original pattern—God’s pattern.
Paul, who wrote a large chunk of the New Testament, always deferred to Jesus on these matters. Whether Paul was ever married is unclear. If he was, then his teachings came from personal experience. If he wasn’t, he probably wrote based on Jesus’ unmarried life. Either way, his messages spoke to both married folks and singles.
So here’s my take.
Both monogamy and polygamy come with their own gains and troubles. It’s usually the man’s capacity that determines the type of family he builds. Adam’s monogamy had its issues. Abraham’s polygamy also had its drama. David’s polygamy was fine until his own sin wrecked the peace. Jesus didn’t marry—maybe because he wasn’t planning to continue the physical line. His ancestry stopped biologically with him but began spiritually with everyone who believes in him.
Now, if God prescribes one man and one wife, what if that man is rich? Or powerful? Or a man who’s like ten men in one? Some men in history were like that, and they had wives to match. It wasn’t always desire—it was sometimes necessity.
David, for example, was ready to kill Nabal out of rage. He already had Michal, but she had been taken from him. Abigail stopped him from bloodshed, and after Nabal’s death, David married her. She met him where he was.
Solomon’s peaceful reign came from the alliances he formed—marriages that kept nations at peace.
But let’s talk about what a wife really means. A wife is a woman who mirrors her man. She carries what he carries. She walks like he walks. David was uniting Israel. Abigail was doing something similar in her small circle. If a man steps back and looks at women clearly, he’ll know which one is truly his wife. But if he’s too caught up in himself, he may need help seeing clearly. David could tell.
Most great men don’t wait to be told. They know. They choose. David started by being given a wife. But as he grew, he took wives with his own eyes.
From a human perspective, monogamy is easier to manage. Polygamy is usually the territory of great men. Eve came from Adam and satisfied him. If a man marries the woman who truly came from him, peace will follow.
Final Thoughts
The human race continues because of sexual procreation. That’s what keeps marriages and relationships going. And this cycle won’t stop anytime soon.
But here’s the twist—when we procreate, we don’t just pass on life. We also pass on pain, trauma, and unfinished stories.
In the Bible, both those who had children and those who didn’t are celebrated. Some chose not to because they saw how short life is. Others wanted to leave a trace of themselves behind—children who’d carry on their story.
And in the end?
To each his own.

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