Dusting Polygamy from the Shelf

“Families are Forever” reads the plaque, its vinyl modern font letters set against an artful antique finish. It’s the catch-phrase of modern Mormonism, a way of life for the most devout and the last holdout belief for those who struggle or find themselves at odds with other doctrines or policies. Though our perfectly packaged version of history may have some flaws we might discover later, the one thing we can rally behind is how much we love our families, how they’ll be “forever.”

These precious relationships that mean so much to us are not just an earthly (“temporal” is the word we hear) experience, they are ours to keep forever. Yet because of our history, there is a dark shadow looming on the forever family, and next to its plaque on the shelf of many Mormon homes sits the unresolved issue of polygamy.

Ask Mormon Girl (AMG) addressed the topic this week, suggesting, urging and almost demanding we give it voice with the repeated line “We need to talk about polygamy.” She writes:

I’ve seen the very real feelings it generates in people close to me.   I’ve seen white-knuckling, and anger, and heard wives extract promises from husbands, and siblings tell siblings they don’t really count as “Mormon” if they so much as remain silent when the issue of polygamy comes round.   Put it on a shelf? Hide it away? When we are taught to be a knowledge-seeking people?   The fact is, Mormons live with polygamy every day.   Even when we repress it.

There was a time even the mention of polygamy could make me lose my appetite for days, I was unable to get through more than a few pages of Todd Compton’s In Sacred Loneliness. The nausea isn’t from disgust at others who freely choose the practice and for whom I wish nothing but love, happiness and the legal freedom to define a family for themselves, but at the idea that it would be required of me in some backhanded test of righteousness. I like to think I’m a very generous person, but there are two things I don’t share: a big sloppy plate of dessert with several spoons, and my husband. I learned as a teenager in seminary about polygamy as the higher, celestial law, and I’ve never found any church doctrine denying it. I have feminist friends and relatives whom I love, respect and admire who are resigned to the idea that this is how they will spend eternity. You can argue that people don’t believe in it, the problem is those people are not the ones defining doctrine.

I’ve often silently wondered what it must be like to not have polygamy as even a blip on my radar. At a Girl’s Night Out with those who don’t have Mormon ties, I wonder at how care-free my friends are, never having had a discussion with their husband about whether he’d want another wife, whether he’d be willing to have another wife. Never making a pact that while you know he’ll remarry when you’re gone, you don’t want him to be sealed to her. Never having to read D&C 132 and hear a lesson about celestial marriage where polygamy was either embraced or was left as the big elephant in the room. Never being told that if the thought of being required to practice polygamy makes you feel disgusted or repulsed, it is because you are wrong — it is selfishness and if you still feel that way, you won’t be worthy enough to be admitted to the Celestial Kingdom (the only place where families actually are “forever” in Mormon doctrine).

Women are consoled with the policy that the first wife always has the choice, and yet the story of our own Emma Smith, the matriarch of the restored gospel, tells us otherwise. At the end of it all, we’re left with the notion that while we can choose not to participate, that choice carries the consequence that we might be choosing to be alone, unable to remain with the righteous husband with whom we’ve worked so hard to build that “forever family.”

Unlike any other Mormon doctrine or historical indelicacy, this one affects us personally in our most intimate relationship. Keeping an eternal perspective only makes it worse.

Polygamy is a curiosity to these friends of mine, and they approach it with an easy-going detachment that makes me envious. Shows like “Big Love” and “Sister Wives” make them want to talk jovially about it, and while it’s fun to define whom we’d want as a sister wife, what part of the household chores we’d take on, their light-heartedness doesn’t have the dark undercurrent mine does. There’s no possibility for them that at the next church-wide meeting the prophet could drop the other shoe, so to speak, and reinstate the practice (I realize this is the slimmest of possibilities, yet it still looms).

Unlike AMG who received tweets from men about how repulsive they find the practice, I never hear the Mormon men in my life talk about it with the emotion the women do. They are able to remain as detached as my girlfriends joking about how they have no interest in trying to please multiple wives given their track record with just one. Maybe their response is because as far-fetched as polygamy might be as an option for them, the choice is really theirs to make. Modern husbands are in a no-win situation, required to choose in a hypothetical situation whether they’d side with God or their wife, either choice calling into question elements of their character.  And while as Mormon legend has it Joseph Smith was threatened by an angel with a flaming sword were he not to participate, I must admit it would be nice to hear a Mormon man say he’d take the flaming sword.

So I understand why we don’t talk about it. There aren’t any real “fixes” for what you do when you take it down from the shelf and talk about it. If you get to the place where you decide that you trust that the ugly pit in your stomach is the spirit leaving and you reject the idea that polygamy will ever be your test of righteousness, you’re still left with a dent in your faith of prophetic power, rejecting a fundamental belief of the early church that’s been taught in your lifetime as the celestial law. And when you start removing items from the shelf, you realize how interconnected they are, and risk having them all come tumbling down, including that beloved plaque you spent so much time making, the one that says “Families are Forever.” Then what?

Then, getting comfortable being uncomfortable, you pick up the pieces of your faith, put your plaque back together embracing all its imperfections and go on free from the burden of the weight of that shelf. If only it were that easy.

How have you made peace with polygamy?