I am presently working on an academic paper that speaks to how we identify passages in Scripture that possess genuine legislative force for the definition of sin. In that paper I introduce and then rigorously critique the widespread (though usually unarticulated) hermeneutical assumption I call “Whole-Canon-as-Flat-Law.”
By “Whole-Canon-as-Flat-Law” I mean the operating principle—common across evangelical, Reformed, Messianic, Hebrew-Roots, and even some progressive circles—that treats every verse in the Bible, regardless of literary genre, historical setting, or canonical position, as equally capable of functioning as binding statute that can create, modify, or abolish divine law. Narrative descriptions, prophetic metaphors, wisdom reflections, symbolic visions, and apostolic pastoral letters are all pressed into service as if they were clauses in a modern criminal code. The result is a canon that is simultaneously “very high” in authority and extraordinarily unstable in its moral output, because virtually any text can be mobilised to generate a new prohibition or to declare an old one obsolete.
Gentlemen, to answer the specific question about 2 Chronicles 24:1–3 (“Joash did what was right … and he took for himself two wives [plural] …”)—no, this passage does not legislate. It is historical narrative recording what a king did under the influence of the priest Jehoiada; it contains no prescriptive formula, no sanction, no procedural instruction, and no claim to universal normativity. Under the seven canons of divine legislation that I develop in the paper (especially Canon 1: Legality, Canon 4: Lenity, and Canon 7: Corroboration), a narrative notice that a Davidic king had multiple wives cannot create, expand, or repeal a statute on marital structure any more than the notice that Solomon had 700 wives and 300 concubines (1 Kgs 11:3) legislates in favour of such arrangements. Both texts simply describe what was, without attaching divine approbation or disapprobation in statutory form.
This brings me to a hermeneutical error that most pro- and anti-polygynists make: turning non-legislative texts into “flat law” to support their positions. For example, anti-polygynists often treat 1 Corinthians 7:1 (“It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman”) and 1 Timothy 3:2 (“the husband of one wife”) as if they were statutory prohibitions criminalizing plural marriage universally, ignoring their pastoral and idiomatic contexts (advice on singleness amid immorality and character qualifications for elders, respectively) and the absence of penalties, corroborating witnesses, or explicit repeal of Torah's regulatory framework (e.g., Exod 21:10; Deut 21:15–17). Conversely, pro-polygynists might elevate 2 Chronicles 24:1–3 or 2 Samuel 12:7–8 (where Nathan conveys God's message to David, including “I gave you your master’s wives into your arms”) into permissive legislation, as if these historical or prophetic narratives were enacting positive law rather than illustrating regulated conduct under existing Torah statutes. In both cases, the Whole-Canon-as-Flat-Law error flattens genre distinctions, leading to unstable ethics where inspiration is conflated with legislation, and texts are weaponized beyond their jurisdictional competence.
I am happy to provide the full article after publication to anyone who would like to engage with it more closely.