Tom Christofferson deems it a good day if he can take out his bike for a long ride in the Phoenix, Arizona sun, the place he has called home for the past six years. “The older I get, the more I need that dose of sunshine,” he laughs. Tom also enjoys travel, reading, cooking, writing, time with friends and family, and is a great conversation partner when it comes to Oscar-nominated movies and binge-worthy TV shows. He deems it a cinematic success if a film or show keeps you thinking about it two or three days later. (For instance, he found “The Chosen” episode on forgiveness centered on Peter and Matthew to be profound, and the portrayal of Mary and Martha choosing the better part “pitch perfect.”) His viewing repertoire has also contributed to his original nickname for his current ward, “The Schitt’s Creek Ward,” referencing its eclectic mix of people all trying to get along and see the good in each other has become “The Zion Ward of the Phoenix East Stake. Tom’s journey in the church has been as long and circuitous as some of his bike trails, but right now, he says he wholeheartedly belongs to “The Church of Jesus Christ of the Gateway Ward—because it really is a true and living church of people who care for and care about each other.”
This is a ward that notices if Tom misses a week showing up. A place where he teaches Sunday School, and where he appreciates how a variety of opinions can be safely shared and grace freely given when comments might not always land as desired. He says it’s the kind of ward where people send a “missed you today” text and they mean it, a gesture he appreciates. While he credits many friends and family members who help keep his life full, Tom says, “In my life, which can feel lonely at times being here by myself, that makes a difference, and helps when dating is awful and unproductive.”
Stepping back into the dating world has been a more recent choice for Tom, who after having a partner for nearly two decades, had taken a long hiatus from relationships after he decided to get rebaptized and reevaluate what the right path might be for a gay man seeking full church activity. But he has found the current dating world to be one that makes it more difficult to maintain a temple recommend with its requisite “Do you keep the law of chastity?” adherence. Tom says, “The current ethos seems to be that ‘I need to find out if we’re sexually compatible, so I know if it’s worth spending time to get to know you.’ It may be the same for my straight, single friends, too. But that’s the opposite of what I was used to, where that was the icing on the cake, but not the cake. That would come farther down the line for me—after I determine if this is someone who’s heart, mind, and soul I’d want to know deeply.”
While Tom says he’s met a lot of nice guys, “It can get old fast reciting your life story and feeling like you’re auditioning.” He’s given up on the dating apps and prefers to meet someone “in real life. If it happens, it happens.” For now, he acknowledges with feet in two camps, “It can be really uncomfortable to straddle the divide of being gay and dating while also being LDS and active. I want both in my life, though maybe 100% at all times may not be possible. Part of my journey is finding my own path.” Tom, who has enjoyed a long and fulfilling career in institutional investing, laughs that he does indeed have a “shopping list” and is grateful for referrals of potential partners. On his wishlist? Tom would love to find someone who is kind, has a sense of humor, is smart, a good kisser, and is a friend of Jesus, though he has broadened his dating pool to also include some Muslim and Jewish men and respects how they also value religion. Basically, Tom would like to find someone who would welcome praying together as an important part of a deepening relationship.
The decision to wade back into dating is of course always personal, though it’s garnered some chatter in Tom’s world as he is the brother of LDS apostle, Elder D. Todd Christofferson, and famously penned two books with Deseret (That We May Be One: A Gay Mormon’s Perspective on Faith and Family and A Better Heart: The Impact of Christ’s Pure Love). While Tom concurs he owed no one an explanation, before he posted publicly on Facebook a couple years ago about his decision to reenter the dating world, he first consulted with his brothers and some local leaders. The predominate feedback was to take it slow and be cautious. The message he was most grateful to receive was, “The Lord trusts you, and so do I.” From various conversations, Tom appreciated the takeaway that all learning can be consecrated for our good and Tom believes that we should “counsel with the Lord to seek correction as well as direction.” He also loved how one of his local leaders offered, “Tom, you know the temple recommend questions as well as I do. I can’t answer all your questions, though I wish I could. I don’t know how this all turns out, but I love you and care about you, and am here for you whenever you think I can help.”
Similar sentiments once expressed by a New Canaan, Connecticut bishop are what first welcomed Tom back to church after he’d initially stepped away decades earlier. While he first sensed he was “different” around the age of five, Tom didn’t have the language to understand he was gay until age 12. Raised in a faithful LDS home, he followed the common prescribed path in the 1980s and plea bargained with God through prayer, went on a mission, attended BYU, and married a woman in the temple, thinking at some point, these “righteous” actions would surely drive away even the notion of being gay. But when his parents questioned why his very short marriage was being annulled, Tom simply responded, “Well, I guess it’s because I’m gay.” Shortly after, Tom requested to be excommunicated, a more routine practice at the time, feeling he couldn’t reconcile his homosexuality with his membership in the Church. Of that time, Tom says he didn’t leave the church because he didn’t believe in it, but because he couldn’t see any place for him to live his life in it.
Some years later, Tom found a loving partner who was embraced by both his family and that New Canaan ward they both eventually started attending until the church’s actions around Prop 8 caused Tom’s partner to question whether the perceived loving behavior of their LDS friends was genuine. Yet Tom’s parents perfectly modeled how to set a tone of love and inclusion in their home, when his mother gathered Tom’s family members around and said, “I’ve realized that there is no perfect family, but we can be perfect in our love for each other… The most important lesson your kids will learn from the way that our family treats their Uncle Tom is that nothing they can ever do will take them outside the circle of our family’s love.” Tom’s parents continued to honor his partnership, offering them a room upon visits home, and the two joined the rest of the brothers and their wives at many a live General Conference sessions, including the one in which Tom’s brother became an apostle. When the exclusion policy of 2015 was announced, Elder Christofferson expressed to Tom that he would understand if Tom felt a need to distance himself from him, but Tom returned his mother’s unconditional love and said, “You have never distanced yourself from me, and I’m sure it hasn’t always been comfortable for you. I’m not going to back away from you in any way.”
Around 2007, Tom became more involved in the church, choosing to get rebaptized in 2014 with his partner’s support, although this did later contribute to the heartbreaking end of a 19-year relationship. Tom recalls, “He had reason to feel I had chosen the Church over him, and yet he was willing to support my decision despite its cost in his life. I can think of no higher tribute to pay to his selflessness and love.”
Tom also credits his parents as the template of Christlike people who listen to, trust and support their child and keep the lines of communication open. He says, “If I’d felt my parents knew all the answers and would be unhappy until I had come to the exact same answers, I would have felt less inclined to counsel with them… The way is to act and not be acted upon. My parents were always loving, engaged, and full of grace, like our Heavenly Parents—which we feel whenever we’re willing to turn to them.”
Very much aware of the friction at the LDS-LGBTQ+ intersection, Tom says at least one reason for the Atonement was so Christ could know all the experiences we would have and could succor and be with us in our journeys. In turn, Tom says, “Allowing ourselves to rub against the rough edges of each other is painful, even hurtful, but if we can allow it, the experience can also help us to see the pain of others that drives their behavior. That understanding can, hopefully, be consecrated to greater empathy for those with whom we assume we have little in common. which might build bridges of understanding and unity.” At the same time, Tom recognizes the reality of the experience in his own life, and for others as well, in allowing yourself space or distance as needed from places or situations in order to rebuild strength and peace. Those experiences, too, he feels, can be used by the Lord to teach us how to share the journey, and the wounds, of those around us.
When it was proposed by a friend that he apply for the VP of Inclusion role at BYU several years back—a university whose students he loves but grounds he can’t help but feel uncomfortable on after the dissonance he experienced as a student there in the 80’s, Tom thought “Not me, it should be someone with a deep love of the institution.” Yet, Tom says he can still appreciate the work being done there as an institution of higher learning, and tries to lend his voice when he can, if it might be helpful. After the “musket fire” talk given at BYU in 2021, Tom joined Patrick Mason on a powerful Faith Matters podcast to express why some of the words shared were so painful for so many in his community. While Tom has long loved and deeply admires the speaker of that message as one with “a magnificent heart and mind who has worn out his life serving the Lord,” he is quick to wish the speech could be allowed to recede into history. Tom says, “I hope we all can keep focusing on ways to frame our desire for unity in a way that engages everyone, which I think was the ultimate intent of that address.”
Tom is the first to recognize his path is not a prescription for anyone else’s, and never wants to impose the direction he’s feeling as the right way for anyone else. He is cautious about certainty, and careful to acknowledge his belief that personal revelation is “what God says to me at this time about my life,” and carefully adheres to his own three rules for inspiration: 1) Don’t tell the Lord what He must say, 2) Don’t tell the Lord what He can’t say, and 3) Keep to myself about what He does say. “My prayer is always that the Lord will help me to have a mind and heart ready to accept anything he’s going to say. As the body of Christ, we can all approach it that way, seeking more light and knowledge, but I’m not the one to tell Him how to do it.” Tom says, “This ‘I’m not finished yet’ is not just a statement about this life; I suspect it’s eternal.” Tom loves Holy Week and the chance to think about the events that took place each day. He says, “When I consider the triumphal entry a week later followed by the crucifixion and resurrection, there are peaks and valleys in my life, too, and I love that feeling of connection to Him. I know I don’t understand all He’s trying to teach me. But I love Easter and the new beginnings we get every Sunday with the Sacrament, and every morning with prayer.” Tom expresses gratitude for those who allow his journey to continue, never assuming the story is finished. “That’s what makes life interesting. We’re not static and never finished, and that is what gives me the greatest hope for eternal progression. I can’t imagine we would ever want to stop growing.”
