Tom Christofferson and Chaste Same-sex Dating

December 17, 2021

Recently, Tom Christofferson announced on Facebook that he intends to begin dating. (We are left to assume he means men.) For those unfamiliar with Tom, he is a gay member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons or LDS Church) who, four years ago, published a book about his journey leaving his gay partner after a 19-year relationship to rejoin the LDS Church. His story has been used to support the idea, popular in religious circles, that gay and lesbian people should live their lives "single and celibate" in order to conform to religious standards.

As one who is intimately familiar with the workings of conversion therapy, I suggest that "single and celibate" is nothing other than self-administered conversion therapy—an attempt to force unnatural conformity to an alien norm. It is a stumbling block by which lives will stagnate and hearts will be broken. I fear greatly for the many young religious LGBQ people, so inexperienced on life's journey, who are committing themselves to this dubious path. It seems Tom may have discovered for himself the bleakness of this path as a result of his 4 years of "single and celibate" life.

But Tom's announcement is only a partial renunciation of "single and celibate." He states that, in dating, he will "observe the same voluntary constraints as other single, believing members of [his] faith." By these standards, his romantic life will perpetually consist of essentially man-dates with perhaps some kissing and hugging.

This idea of chaste same-sex dating is a recent development among progressive Mormons. Although I don't disagree with the idea of dating chastely for a period of time, I think the phenomenon begs the question, "to what end is this dating intended?"

Most straight people who have chastely dated and then been married will attest to the inadequacy of the first as anything more than a temporary pathway to the second. That is because the "voluntary constraints" of chastity keep unmarried couples in separate households, pining for each other's beds. Straight religious people resolve that yearning in marriage. Gay people in high-demand religions have no such resolution; conservative religion forbids any consummation of same-sex love. So for Tom, the natural "desire not to be alone the rest of [his] life" will forever remain constrained on a pathway to nowhere.

To me, such a future does not sound enticing. Yet Tom's readers, whom I suspect are mostly progressive Mormons, have not stopped gushing their congratulations. He has announced only his intention to date, yet readers are celebrating as though he has announced a marriage. The comments below are typical of the many responses.

"This is wonderful news Tom!"

"Enjoy this time of your life!"

"You 100% deserve to find someone you love!"

"Any man that is able to walk with you on your journey is the lucky one."

What is going on here? Perhaps the congratulators have not understood what Tom's announcement implies. Some may be assuming he intends to date chastely until he finds Mr. Right and then he will leave the Church (again) to be with him. But Tom gives no indication that this is his plan. Taken at his word, he intends to chastely date in perpetuity.

Maybe the happy responders are celebrating the idea of lesbians and gays dating chastely as a next step on a progression toward equality. Dating after the manner of straights, as Tom is pledging to do, seems to put gays on equal footing with straights. But we must not delude ourselves. The LDS Church has not endorsed this practice and it is hard to imagine them doing so any time soon. Sanctioning same-sex dating would cross the line of conferring legitimacy to same-sex relationships, throwing into chaos some of Mormonism's central doctrines.

But I have an even more immediate reason not to celebrate perennial chaste same-sex dating: it is unnatural and inhumane. To understand my warning, it may help to view the situation in heterosexual terms. Consider the following hypotheticals:

Imagine that a straight single woman announces her intention to never marry any of the men she is dating—she will go out, but never allow love's full flowering. She will avoid the depth of intimacy that only comes from combining lives and sharing bodies. If her desires become too great, she'll retreat to a safe emotional distance.

Would we feel joy for her? Would we call the men she dates "lucky"?

Imagine that a straight married man decides to divorce his wife, whom he dearly, deeply, intensely loves. He will live nearby and they will go out as often as their busy schedules allow. At the end of their dates, they will chastely kiss, enjoy a lingering desire filled hug, then retire to their separate homes and go to bed alone. They will never again taste the joy of physical intimacy. They will never have children.

Would we celebrate this choice? Would we consider this woman to be lucky?

Imagine that an unmarried straight Mormon couple decides to move in together to increase the connection and intimacy of their relationship. They intend to live together, to date, but to remain chaste by sleeping in separate beds.

Would we consider this a good idea and cheer them on?

Though these hypotheticals differ superficially from the practice of perennial chaste same-sex dating, each one evokes the same emotional instabilities and sexual frustrations implicit in Tom's plan. Each is fraught with potential pain because each violates natural human inclinations. Perennial chaste same-sex dating is an unstable accommodation for an unworkable life-choice. It is nothing to celebrate.

I can appreciate that Tom is still progressing along life's winding path and I praise his public honesty about it. I also acknowledge that each person has a unique constitution and perhaps some people can thrive under "single and celibate," with or without dating. But, given that for 25 years my work caused me to observe, at close proximity, the effects of wrongful self-repression, I feel a keen obligation to discourage it. Gay or straight, our hearts and bodies are meant to be paired with those of a beloved other.