The Church, Chastity, & Celibacy

The Words of Christ Himself

Let us begin where all Christian theology must begin: with the words of Jesus. In the Gospel of Matthew, after teaching on the indissolubility of marriage, the disciples respond that if divorce is impermissible, perhaps it is better not to marry at all. Christ's answer is remarkable:

The implications of this passage are staggering, and they cut directly against the LDS insistence that marriage is universally required. Jesus acknowledges three categories of those who do not marry: those born incapable of it, those made so by others, and — crucially — those who voluntarily renounce marriage for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven. This third category is not described as defective or disobedient. It is described as a gift, a high calling that "not everyone can receive." Christ does not merely tolerate celibacy; He presents it as a vocation given by God Himself.

Notice the structure of His language. Jesus says this capacity is "given" — the Greek dedotai, a divine passive indicating that God is the one who gives it. The celibate vocation is not a human invention imposed by a corrupt church. It is a charism distributed by the sovereign hand of God. And Christ's closing words — "Let the one who is able to receive this, receive it" — are not a reluctant concession but an invitation. The grammatical construction mirrors the prophetic call: those with ears to hear, let them hear.

The LDS reader should note carefully what Jesus does not say here. He does not say, "Marriage is the highest calling and all must pursue it." He does not say, "Those who do not marry will be diminished in the Kingdom." He says the opposite. He identifies voluntary celibacy for the Kingdom as a gift so exalted that only some can receive it.

Christ Himself, it must be observed, never married. If celestial marriage is truly the indispensable prerequisite for the highest degree of glory — as LDS theology insists — then we are left with the absurd conclusion that the Son of God failed to meet His own Father's requirements for exaltation. The Catholic answer is simpler, more coherent, and more reverent: Jesus Christ, the Bridegroom of the Church, lived the perfect human life, and that life was celibate.

The Apostle Paul and the Validity of Celibacy

If Christ planted the seed, Paul waters it abundantly. First Corinthians chapter 7 is the most sustained treatment of marriage and celibacy in the entire New Testament, and its teaching is unmistakable. Paul does not merely permit celibacy as a secondary option. He ranks it above marriage:

Paul's wish that "all were as I myself am" — that is, unmarried and celibate — is not the idle musing of a bitter bachelor. He frames his celibacy as a "gift from God" (charisma ek theou), the same word used elsewhere for spiritual gifts like prophecy and healing. And his reasoning is thoroughly theological:

The logic is not that marriage is evil — Paul never says this, and neither does the Catholic Church. The logic is that celibacy permits an undivided devotion to the Lord that marriage, by its nature, cannot. The married person has legitimate obligations to spouse and children that necessarily divide attention and energy. The celibate person, freed from these obligations, can give everything to God and His Church. This is precisely the rationale behind both priestly celibacy and the monastic vocation.

Paul then makes his comparative judgment explicit:

There it is, in plain apostolic teaching: marriage is good; celibacy is better. Not merely different. Not merely equally valid. This is the consistent Catholic position, defined dogmatically at the Council of Trent: "If anyone says that the married state excels the state of virginity or celibacy, and that it is better and happier to be united in matrimony than to remain in virginity or celibacy, let him be anathema" (Session 24, Canon 10). The Church did not invent this hierarchy. She received it from the Apostle Paul, who received it from Christ.

The Latter-day Saint is now in a difficult position. The LDS Church teaches that marriage is not merely good but essential for the highest degree of celestial glory — that unmarried persons are, by definition, excluded from full exaltation (D&C 131:1–4). But Paul teaches that celibacy is the higher calling. Jesus teaches that voluntary celibacy for the Kingdom is a divine gift. Who is right: Christ and Paul, or Joseph Smith?

"Forbidding to Marry" — What the Bible Actually Condemns

The LDS objection typically appeals to two texts: Doctrine and Covenants 49:15 ("Whoso forbiddeth to marry is not ordained of God") and 1 Timothy 4:1–3. Let us examine both honestly.

D&C 49 and the Shakers

First, D&C 49. This section was given as a revelation directed specifically at the Shakers — the United Society of Believers in Christ's Second Appearing — who taught that celibacy was universally required and that all sexual relations, even within marriage, were sinful. The Shakers did not merely honor celibacy as a higher calling; they condemned marriage as incompatible with the Christian life. This is a critical distinction.

The Catholic Church has never taught that marriage is sinful. She teaches that marriage is a sacrament — one of the seven channels of divine grace — and that it images the union of Christ and the Church (Ephesians 5:31–32). What she also teaches, following Paul, is that celibacy for the sake of the Kingdom is a higher gift.

There is an enormous difference between forbidding marriage and honoring celibacy. A university that offers both undergraduate and doctoral programs does not "forbid" the bachelor's degree by recognizing the doctorate as a higher achievement. The Catholic Church does not forbid marriage. She celebrates it. She simply also recognizes, with Christ and Paul, that some are called to something higher still.

As for priestly celibacy specifically: no one is forced into the priesthood. The discipline of celibacy applies only to those who freely choose to accept Holy Orders in the Latin Rite. A man who does not wish to be celibate is entirely free to marry — he simply cannot also be a Latin Rite priest. This is a condition of a particular vocation, not a prohibition on marriage itself. Even within Catholicism, Eastern Catholic churches have maintained the tradition of married priests, demonstrating that celibacy is a discipline of the Latin Rite rather than a universal dogmatic requirement.

1 Timothy 4:1–3 and the Gnostic Heresy

Now consider 1 Timothy 4:1–3:

LDS apologists routinely cite this passage as a prophecy against Catholic priestly celibacy. But examine the text carefully. Paul identifies two marks of these false teachers: they "forbid marriage" and they "require abstinence from foods." The heresy Paul describes is not the elevation of celibacy as a higher calling — which Paul himself teaches in 1 Corinthians 7 — but the Gnostic-Manichaean teaching that the material world is inherently evil, that the body is a prison, and that therefore marriage and certain foods are morally contaminated.

The Catholic Church condemns this heresy as vigorously as Paul does. The Church teaches that creation is good, that the body is good, that marriage is good and sacramental. Her elevation of celibacy rests not on a rejection of the body but on an eschatological hope — the celibate anticipates the resurrection life where, as Jesus Himself teaches, "they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven" (Matthew 22:30).

The Word of Wisdom Problem

There is a deep irony in the LDS use of 1 Timothy 4:3. The passage condemns those who "require abstinence from foods." If this is to be applied literally to Catholic fasting disciplines, then it must also be applied to the LDS Word of Wisdom, which prohibits coffee, tea, alcohol, and tobacco — a far more comprehensive dietary restriction than anything the Catholic Church mandates. The LDS Church does not merely recommend abstaining from these substances; it requires abstinence as a condition for temple worthiness. If "requiring abstinence from foods" disqualifies Catholicism, it disqualifies Mormonism with equal force.

The Monastic Life: Withdrawing to Draw Nearer

Latter-day Saints sometimes object not merely to celibacy but to the entire concept of monasticism. Why would someone withdraw from the world into a cloister? Didn't Jesus command His followers to go into all the world and preach the Gospel? Isn't living alone in a monastery a refusal to fulfill the Great Commission?

This objection reveals a profound misunderstanding of what monks and nuns actually do, and of the theology that sustains them.

Christ's Own Pattern of Withdrawal

Jesus Himself regularly withdrew from crowds and even from His own disciples to pray in solitude. "And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed" (Mark 1:35). Before choosing the Twelve Apostles, He "went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in prayer to God" (Luke 6:12). Before His Passion, He withdrew to Gethsemane. The pattern is unmistakable: intense engagement with the world is sustained by profound withdrawal into communion with the Father.

The monk does not flee from the world out of cowardice or indifference. He withdraws from the world's noise in order to wage the most intense spiritual warfare imaginable — the combat against his own disordered desires, the struggle for unceasing prayer, the discipline of radical obedience and humility. St. Anthony of Egypt, the father of Christian monasticism, went into the desert in the third century and emerged a spiritual powerhouse whose counsel was sought by emperors and peasants alike. The monastic withdrawal produces spiritual power; it does not renounce it.

Ora et Labora — The Fruits of Monastic Life

Monks and nuns are not idle. Benedictine monasticism, which shaped Western civilization, operates under the rule of Ora et Labora — "Pray and Work." Monks preserved classical learning through the Dark Ages, developed agricultural techniques that fed Europe, established hospitals and schools, and produced some of the greatest theologians, artists, and scientists in human history. The Benedictines, Franciscans, Dominicans, Jesuits, and other religious orders have evangelized more of the world than perhaps any other institution in history. To say that monasticism opposes the Great Commission is to ignore the historical record entirely.

The Good Portion

Most profoundly, the monastic life embodies the truth that the Church's most powerful work is prayer. Paul commands Christians to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 5:17). The monastic community takes this literally, structuring every hour of the day around the Divine Office — the liturgical prayer of the Church. The monk who rises at 3:00 AM for Matins is not wasting his life. He is interceding for the entire world, sustaining the mystical Body of Christ through prayer in a way that is every bit as real as the missionary's preaching or the layperson's works of mercy.

Consider Christ's words to Martha:

Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus in contemplation, is not rebuked for failing to be busy. She is commended for choosing "the good portion." The contemplative life — the life of the monk and the cloistered nun — is the life of Mary of Bethany, extended and consecrated as a permanent vocation. The Church has always recognized that this contemplative calling, far from being inferior to active ministry, represents in a unique way the ultimate purpose of human existence: to know God and to be united with Him.

Heresy and the Hatred of Chastity

In the fourth century, the great biblical scholar St. Jerome — translator of the Latin Vulgate, Doctor of the Church, and himself a monk who lived in a cave near Bethlehem — made an observation that has lost none of its force in sixteen hundred years:

Jerome's words were forged in the crucible of his own polemical battles, particularly his response to Jovinian — a monk who denied that virginity held any spiritual superiority over marriage. Jerome's treatise Adversus Jovinianum (Against Jovinian), written in 393, mounted a comprehensive defense of the Church's teaching on the excellence of virginity, drawing on the Old and New Testaments, the teaching of the Apostles, and the universal practice of the early Church. Jovinian was condemned by synods in both Rome and Milan.

But Jerome's observation extends far beyond the Jovinian controversy. It identifies a pattern that has repeated itself with remarkable consistency throughout Christian history. Nearly every major heresy and schism has been accompanied by a rejection of consecrated celibacy and a weakening of the Church's teaching on chastity.

Martin Luther, an Augustinian friar who had taken solemn vows of chastity, abandoned those vows and married Katharina von Bora, a former nun. John Calvin married. Ulrich Zwingli married. Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury who led England's break from Rome, had secretly married even while still outwardly Catholic. Martin Bucer, a Dominican friar, left his order and married a nun. The pattern Jerome identified is not an occasional coincidence; it is a consistent feature of the history of Christian division.

And the pattern continues. Joseph Smith, who claimed to restore primitive Christianity, did not restore celibacy or monasticism. Instead, he introduced a theology in which marriage is divinized to such an extent that it becomes the very mechanism of godhood — "celestial marriage" as the gateway to exaltation, with the married and sealed couple eventually becoming gods who produce spirit children for eternity. This is not merely a rejection of celibacy. It is the elevation of marriage to a status that even the Bible does not grant it, while simultaneously eliminating any place for the vocation that Christ called a gift and Paul called the better way.

Moreover, Smith's own marital history complicates the LDS position considerably. He was sealed to at least thirty-three women, some of whom were already married to other men, and some of whom were as young as fourteen. The LDS Church's own Gospel Topics Essay on "Plural Marriage in Kirtland and Nauvoo" acknowledges these facts. Whatever else may be said about this history, it does not suggest a deep reverence for the virtue of chastity as the Christian tradition has understood it.

Jerome would not be surprised.

The Eschatological Witness

There is one final dimension of celibacy that deserves attention, because it strikes at the heart of the difference between Catholic and LDS theology. Jesus teaches:

This passage is devastating to the LDS theological framework. If there is no marriage in the resurrection — if the glorified life of heaven transcends the marital bond — then celestial marriage as the LDS Church defines it simply does not exist. Jesus is not describing a deficiency in the resurrection life; He is describing its superabundance. In heaven, the partial union of marriage is swallowed up in the total union of every soul with God. The marital bond, beautiful as it is, was always a sign pointing beyond itself to the ultimate wedding feast of the Lamb and His Bride, the Church (Revelation 19:7–9).

The celibate — the monk, the nun, the priest — lives this eschatological reality in the present. By renouncing marriage not out of contempt but out of love, the consecrated celibate announces to the world: there is something greater than even the greatest earthly love. The celibate is a living prophecy, a sign of the world to come, where God will be all in all (1 Corinthians 15:28). As the Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it: "Virginity for the sake of the kingdom of heaven is an unfolding of baptismal grace, a powerful sign of the supremacy of the bond with Christ and of the ardent expectation of his return, a sign which also recalls that marriage refers to the world of the present which is passing away" (CCC 1619).

This is precisely what LDS theology cannot accommodate. In a system where exaltation is eternal marriage and eternal procreation, the celibate sign makes no sense. But in a system where exaltation is the beatific vision — the direct, face-to-face communion with the infinite God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — the celibate sign makes perfect sense. It makes sense because it witnesses to the truth that God Himself, not marriage, not children, not even family, is the ultimate fulfillment of every human longing.

The Latter-day Saint who looks at a monk's cell and sees a prison is looking with the wrong eyes. The monk sees a doorway. He has traded the good for the best, the beautiful for the source of all beauty, the love of one person for the love of the One who is Love itself. And in doing so, he has not diminished his humanity. He has fulfilled it in the most radical way possible, following the example of Christ Himself, who lived and died and rose again — unmarried, celibate, and the most fully human person who ever walked the earth.

The Fullness of the Faith

The Catholic Church does not despise marriage. She consecrates it as a sacrament. She does not forbid anyone from marrying. She invites all the baptized to discern their vocation — some to marriage, some to Holy Orders, some to the consecrated religious life, some to dedicated single life — trusting that the Holy Spirit distributes His gifts according to His wisdom.

What the Church refuses to do is what the LDS Church has done: to so elevate marriage that it eclipses the vocation Christ Himself honored, the calling Paul named the better way, the life Jerome defended, the witness the earliest Christians cherished from the apostolic age itself. The consecrated celibate life is not a relic of medieval corruption. It is one of Christianity's oldest and most precious treasures, rooted in the words of the Lord Jesus and the teaching of His Apostles.

To the Latter-day Saint reading this: you have been told that the Catholic Church distorted Christianity by introducing monasticism and celibacy. The historical record shows the opposite. Celibacy as a Christian vocation appears in the New Testament itself, is practiced from the earliest generations of the Church, and is defended by the same Fathers who gave us the biblical canon. It is the LDS system — in which God Himself is a married, embodied being and exaltation requires celestial marriage — that represents the genuine innovation, introduced eighteen centuries after Christ.

We invite you to look again at the monk in his cell, the nun before the Blessed Sacrament, the priest who has given his life entirely to Christ and His Church. You are not looking at prisoners of a false tradition. You are looking at men and women who have taken Jesus at His word — who have received the gift He described in Matthew 19, who have embraced the better way Paul commended in 1 Corinthians 7, who have chosen the good portion that will not be taken away.

They are living proof that the Faith delivered once for all to the saints is still alive, still radical, still beautiful — and still Catholic.