While I was sitting in the temple a few days back, waiting for the presentation to begin, I was thinking on what I might post about this week. My mind was called up to serious reflection on what you might call “the end game” of the Plan of Salvation (generally termed “the Great Plan of Happiness” by leadership these days), where at some point the sheep and the goats get separated and sent off to their respective fates or rewards.
That’s a very human way of thinking about Judgement Day, rewards and animals and a grading curve (the metaphor I’ll use today). We’re open to the idea that God approaches this final judgement quite differently than we do at the present time, but we’re all humans so it’s difficult *not* to think about things in a human way. I’m going to propose three different grading curves, the last one being a rather bold proposal. In the comments, you can pick one, or propose your own, or just throw up your hands and say, “It’s a mystery, no clue what God’s going to do, but I’m confident all parties will get their just deserts.” (I looked it up — it really has just one “s”.)
Pass/Fail
One curve that has excellent scriptural support is pass/fail. In ancient times, this was termed The Doctrine of the Two Ways (Nibley discussed this from time to time). For example, the parable of the wheat and tares, one of our favorites here at W&T. Like all parables, this one has a variety of reasonable interpretations.
Often commentators note that before fully grown, wheat and tares (weeds, in some translations) look a lot alike, so selectively culling the tares is not an option until much later. An application that I might throw out if I was teaching this in Sunday School is: so don’t try searching the ward list for apostates to hound out of the Church; this parable is telling us to be patient and *not* to try judging between the righteous and the wicked at the present time. Another interpretation, stated directly in Matthew 13, allows that the tares can be identified, but that ripping them out would damage the wheat as well, so defer that drastic action until the harvest. But here I’m just focusing on the last verse of the parable:
Let both grow together until the harvest: and in the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them: but gather the wheat into my barn.
That’s pretty straightforward: the parable (in compressed metaphorical language) seems to be saying you either go to the Good Place or the Bad Place. Let me quickly disabuse the more zealous reader from thinking the wording of the parable suggests the fail people will be thrown into the Fires of Hell (certainly a possible candidate for the Bad Place). It’s a parable, a metaphor. The fail people won’t burn in a literal fire any more than the pass people will be sent to a literal barn.
There are good reasons to think that pass/fail simply gives too few options for a just judgment, even by an all-knowing God who executes perfect judgement. To tell one person, “your righteousness score is 70.001, you pass,” while telling another, “your righteousness score is 69.999, sorry, you fail,” does not really seem just to you and me in our human way of thinking, and I hope God sees it the same way. Rounding up doesn’t solve the problem, either. The guy who is at 68.999 would then be the unlucky fellow. We need more options.
Many Mansions
LDS doctrine takes this problem seriously and offers a solution. Sometimes John 14:2 (“in my Father’s house are many mansions”) is cited to support this idea, but the full schema is laid out in D&C 76, which bears re-reading if you haven’t lately. It was quite dear to the early Saints, who referred to it simply as “the Vision.” There are four ultimate destinations described therein. The first is reserved for “sons of perdition” who receive “no forgiveness” and are headed for “the lake of fire and brimstone, with the devil and his angels” (see verses 28-38). The term “outer darkness” is often used to describe this place, although I don’t see the term used in D&C 76. Additionally, LDS discussions invariably point out that this distinctly unpleasant destination is set aside for only the very, very few. The very bottom of the grading curve, if you like. Imagine a class with one million students, and only two get an OD grade. Interestingly, the online LDS Guide to the Scriptures, under the entry “Outer Darkness,” simply has a hyperlink to “Hell.”
The other three places — the familiar telestial, terrestrial, and celestial kingdoms described in the balance of the text — are introduced with an upbeat verse 39:
For all the rest shall be brought forth by the resurrection of the dead, through the triumph and the glory of the Lamb, who was slain, who was in the bosom of the Father before the worlds were made.
That seems to link the terms “triumph” and “glory” to the whole lot of them, which is a nice way of looking at it. Even the lowest of these, the telestial sphere, is described as “the glory of the telestial, which surpasses all understanding” (v. 89). The way it is described in D&C 76, there is no sad heaven (the idea of family sealing came years later). Everyone is in a pretty good place. Of course, you might detect the same problem here as with our earlier discussion. There will be a bunch of people right at the line between telestial and terrestrial, and between terrestrial and celestial. It seems unjust that 90.001 gets you celestial glory, while 89.999 gets you merely terrestrial glory for being lackadaisical in your home teaching one year or for cussing just a little too often when driving on California freeways.
There’s a way out of this, of course. Maybe there are many gradations or levels with each kingdom of glory. So level 77 of the terrestrial kingdom is better in some respects than level 34. Think of it like the array of various seat options on your favorite airline. Hey, if the celestial kingdom is like first class aka business class, I’m all in. If you are assigned to terrestrial seating, at least get the exit row with more leg room. You can even take this variation to the ultimate extreme and propose that every single person gets their own tailor-made level within the various kingdoms. At least it allows each person’s ultimate reward to be exactly tailored (by an all-knowing and perfectly just God) to what the person merits or deserves. That also represents the ultimate extension of works righteousness, of course, but that is unlikely to deter the average Mormon from signing on, given the other theological advantages of the plan. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard an LDS speaker take the many mansions model to quite this extreme, however.
So here is a proposal that takes a completely different approach.
Everybody Gets a Car!
I’m sure you’ve seen the meme (see the image at the top of this post). As I was reflecting a few days ago, it occurred to me that of the fifty or so people in my small company that day … everyone makes it to the Celestial Room (representing, obviously, the Celestial Kingdom). In fact, everyone who ever goes through the LDS temple presentation ends up in that room. It doesn’t matter how smart you are, how rich you are, how good your memory is (you get as many prompts as you need to complete the journey), how often you attend your meetings, or how kind you are to your neighbor. You get the Celestial Kingdom, you get the Celestial Kingdom … everybody gets the Celestial Kingdom! Instead of three kingdoms or a limitless number of levels, each specifically tailored for each individual, everyone gets the Very Good Place. It’s not pass or fail; everyone gets an A!
How else can you interpret the temple teaching taken as a whole? Now maybe, back in the day when there were separate rooms representing the three kingdoms, some person with a scrupulosity problem who felt entirely unworthy of celestial glory snuck down behind the chairs and remained in the terrestrial room, where they were comfortable, rather than take the next step. Imagine that for a moment. When some diligent temple worker eventually came across the hiding one, they would either kindly escort them, right then and there, through the rest of the journey to the Celestial Room, or maybe invite them back to the beginning in the next session to go from start to finish. Think of it as an LDS version of no man left behind. If someone stumbles along the path and can’t make it, a few stout brethren will go back and just carry him or her across the threshold. No one left behind. I like that image.
I’m sure there are some cynical readers who will reply, “Sure, but that’s only for people who get into an LDS temple. Even many Mormons can’t get in, much less everyone else.” But in LDS theology, eventually everyone has that temple journey performed for them, by proxy if not in person. If we take the LDS temple presentation seriously (and who doesn’t?) it is saying that everyone, with the possible exception of those one-in-a-million sons of perdition (no daughters of perdition?), will eventually receive Celestial glory. It’s not hard to argue that the LDS temple presentation, first presented in its fulness by Joseph Smith in 1842 (modified from time to time over the years) trumps the earlier and only partial understanding revealed in 1832, as recorded in D&S 76. Maybe the D&C 76 grading curve, with some lesser degrees of glory for the less diligent or frankly rebellious among us, was just a fib to motivate Mormons to try a little harder to be righteous.
Forgive my casual or even lighthearted way of approaching what is, after all, a serious and relevant theological issue. If President Monson can wiggle his ears at the pulpit during an LDS Conference, I can be a little lighthearted in my online discussion of serious topics.
So what do you think?
- Are you a pass/fail Mormon, who embraces the simple and straightforward Heaven or Hell option? Let’s note that most other Christians, as far as I can tell, endorse this simple approach.
- Are you a 4 and 3 Mormon (4 options, 3 kingdoms of glory)? Even a small dose of glory is a lot better than a generous helping of endless pain and suffering.
- Do you like the infinite level variation, where everyone gets their own floor of an infinitely tall heavenly mansion?
- Do you buy into my “Everyone gets to the Celestial Kingdom” interpretation? Maybe let my proposal pass through your mind the next time you spend ten minutes in an actual Celestial Room. Look around. Everyone got there.
- Last and not least, go ahead and share your own vision of the Hereafter if you don’t like any of the options listed above.
Everyone gets a car, eventually. We have forever. I can fix anybody if I have enough time.
I like the concept of eternal progression. No matter what kingdom we end up in we can still progress to the next. So, I guess that ends as everybody eventually gets a car, but still allows us to progress at our own pace. No body is going to carry someone else over the finish line, but we all will be given as much time as we need to make it on our own power.
Demographers estimate that approximately 50% of everyone who has been born on planet Earth died before the age of 8 (infant mortality and rampant disease were of course much more common in the past than they are now).
Combine that with LDS teachings that anyone who dies under the age of 8 makes it to the Celestial Kingdom, and this means that the way is neither narrow nor strait, but rather it is a superhighway.
Since the majority of humankind makes it just for “showing up” (again, in standard LDS doctrine regarding children who die before the age of accountability), it’s a mystery to me why members of the church worry so much about whether they’re going to “make it”.
In real life I’m solidly in the heaven on earth build Zion where you stand camp. And a know nothing about any after-life.
However, when I’m talking with Mormons I tend to sound universalist, which I suppose is the everybody gets a car version.
Most of all, I comment to say I think there’s at least a fourth version in common circulation, which I’d describe as everybody gets to choose. It’s typically derived from scriptures that talk about shying away or running from the presence of God.
The “more legroom in the terrestrial section” option sounds appealing until I realize I may be on a Boeing Max jet and we’re all going down anyway, regardless of where we’re sitting on the plane. In other words, I believe salvation is a far bigger/broader concept than my individual situation. Either we’re all saved or nobody is (the latter could simply be total non-existence, spiritually or otherwise). I prefer the first option.
I think I am OK with Keanu Reeves’s explanation for what happens when you die from all thing the Late Show with Stephen Colbert while promoting John Wick – “The ones that love us will miss us.”
Everything else seems kind of extra.
if at the end there is nothing, that is at least a rest, a quiet place without being outer darkness.
if there is something, I hope I get to keep learning and doing. I hope there is good food to eat and green growing things and people to talk to. I don’t think I want to be anyone’s god but I would like to learn how things work and why. So I don’t want any gated communities in the afterlife with bigger mansions for the better people. Maybe I won’t care when I am there. But I think I would rather have a meadow and a forest than mansion so I am hoping for terrestrial kingdom all the way.
I have kids in middle and high school, and it is interesting to see how grading has changed since I was in school. When I was there, grades were a measure of assignments being done correctly and on time (late work was rarely accepted at all, and generally with a significant penalty). With my kids there is a lot more competency based assessment. The grades are more of a reflection of whether the student has learned the material. Their schools aren’t completely competency based – there are still assignments and due dates – but there is far more flexibility (late work, make-up, re-tests, etc.). Admittedly, my first reaction was to reject and complain about this new method. I got good grades in school, and as a student I viewed grades as a contest, and one that I often won. Of course I liked it. But if the goal of the class is that everyone learn the material, I really don’t see why can’t give a good grade to everyone who gets there in the end (of the quarter).
Obviously, you can draw a plan of salvation parallel here if you want. (I’m a “Plan of Mercy” man myself.) I don’t really have any strong argument as to which sort of grading system God will use. I used to be a very final, permanent judgement leading to a 4 and 3 outcome sort of person. These days I’m more of an Eternal Progression guy. Admittedly, this is probably self-serving as I’ve become less orthodox over the years. So maybe I’m getting wiser, or maybe I’m justifying my own behaviors.
I’m really not sure what an afterlife looks like. But I do know that a significant number of the ideas I’ve heard presented don’t seem to make a lot of sense. An eternity of singing praises to God doesn’t really sound appealing. Nor does an eternity of missionary work, or indexing. I’m not sure an eternity of anything sounds very interesting. Mormon ideas of Eternal Families that are presented as if I’ll have a celestial house with my kids in it don’t make sense, because then my parents should also have a house with me in it, and very quickly it’s houses all the way down. And then some of us go to our celestial jobs (world building), while others do celestial housework (is there dust in heaven?) and others go to celestial school? (Forever?)
Eternal progression with lots of learning mansions for me. There are so many reasons why:
If there is a God, and if there is a reward system in place, I have an ironic take on how it should all work. I would hope that a loving and just God would reward those who are good because they want to be good, as opposed to those who are seeking an eternal reward.
As a teenager in the 1970’s, I recall the how the church’s teachings about the plan of salvation made me feel hopeless because I could never be good enough to make it to the highest degree. After giving the church most of my best years, I backed away from it in about 10 years ago. I still attend sacrament meeting so my spouse won’t have to sit alone but won’t accept callings (it’s odd to me that no one will ask me why.) For too long I accepted the complex narrative that Church leaders created about what I needed to do to make it to the top of the Celestial Kingdom, which was a mistake on my part. Now my focus is to do my best to be a loving spouse, parent, and grandparent, and to look for opportunities to help people who have real needs versus the assigned, and often ineffective, service which the church gave me. I’ve realized that I feel better when I help address real needs for people, without it being assigned, and regardless of whether or not they’re Mormons. The simplicity of Savior’s message in Matthew 25 feels right to me and, with a measure of grace, something I can do.
P.S. When RMN announces a ridiculous number of temples during the last session of each General Conference, the first thought that comes to my mind is that another opportunity to address real human needs has been missed. Second thought is that way too many members think that temple work is more important to their salvation than is nurturing family relationships and rendering legitimate service to others.
If anybody out there is paying attention to me, I must sound like a broken record when this subject comes up. But I’m going to keep trying, making it simpler each time. Here’s my basic premise:
The 4 and 3 model is compatible with eternal progression for everyone.
The key is to reject the assumption that the “curve” is unidimensional. Instead, imagine that those in the telestial kingdom can progress forever along the X axis, those in the terrestrial kingdom can progress along both the X and Y axes, and those in the celestial kingdom can progress along the X, Y, and Z axes.
This is a gross oversimplication of what I actually believe, but I have to pick my battles. My battle today is just to get people to stop thinking so linearly.
lastlemming:
Which axis gets me to the best Indian food in the cosmos?
If Joseph Smith (who is considered by orthodox LDS to be second only to Jesus Christ in enabling mankind’s salvation) has his Celestial place assured, then the rest of us have nothing to worry about. I’m no saint, but I’m confident that he has done way, way worse things in his life than I ever have in mine. Same goes for Brigham Young.
lastlemming,
I don’t understand your idea but I still want to reject the hierarchical, graded, climbing approach. My brain doesn’t work like that as a parent in evaluating my children. I suspect God is an even better parent than me and sees each of us for who we are in our journey. I think to God we are like growing plants that need to be nourished and cared for. We grow at different rates, but as long as we are still alive and there’s still time left in the season, there’s still hope and nourishment. I anticipate a beautiful unending season in heaven with lots of soil, sun and rain. Can you tell I am a gardener? Maybe the word for this is eternal progression.
I get this attitude from being the mother of an autistic child. Years ago I called my own mother feeling bad that I couldn’t measure up and do all the LDS things, the temple, genealogy, callings, regular beautiful family meals, perfect children and marriage, etc. She stopped me and asked if I was angry at my autistic child’s progress since he doesn’t talk much and chews holes in his shirts, and can’t write anything much at the age of 10. My eyes filled with tears and I said something like “No, absolutely not. My son is doing the best he can do and he is trying the hardest he can. He is growing and enjoying life. What else could I possibly ask for!”
My mom responded and said something so profound that I have never forgotten it. She said “How you feel about your child is how God feels about you.” For that matter I expect God to be an even wiser parent, even better at helping us to grow and learn. God will be at least as supportive, firm and merciful as I am. I will never give up on my children and God won’t either.
Lws, your mother’s wise words and your final paragraph brought tears to my eyes. That is how I see things, too. I trust in God’s perfect love and patience encouraging eternal progression.
Lovely comment lws329, just beautiful.
You have put into words exactly how I feel about this subject.
What a blessing your wonderful son must be for your family.
I’d say I buy into both the “infinite level variation” and “everyone goes to the celestial kingdom” theories. Two quotes that shape how I see the afterlife are: “We are Gods in embryo and thus have unlimited potential for progress and attainment.” and “The world beyond is as different from this world, as this world is different from that of the child while still in the womb of it’s mother.”
So I think our understanding of the next world is about as limited as the understanding that an embryo has of this world- which is to say, we don’t have clue, and anything that we can imagine is so much less glorious than what it will actually be like. (I also think our idea of what God is actually like is also VERY limited).
Just like a mother’s womb is an ideal environment for a baby’s development, I think this life is an ideal environment for the soul’s development. We can make choices that will help our development and make this life smoother, but I think even if we’re making bad choices here, this life is still developing our souls for the next life. But the characteristics we develop here will be essential in the next life, and the more we develop them here, the better off we will be there. And I think we’re all saved by grace, and that eventually we will all make it to the “celestial kingdom” (even though we have no idea what the celestial kingdom means).
This post, and Rich Brown’s response, reminded me of a youth activity back in the 20th century where they had us board a pretend flight to Hawaii (it was actually the RS room). The plane crashed over the ocean and we all died. Our youth leaders then took us through the classic plan of salvation chart (I, think including Outer Darkness) and they played different roles. I specifically remember my YM leader playing Satan. We progressed through the different kingdoms and they used section whatever-it-is of the D&C to describe why we were in that particular kingdom at the time. I can’t remember if we moved rooms each time we “moved up” or if they just turned the lights up. (Looking back, I think maybe they were trying to subtlety prepare us for the endowment). Anyway, we all ended up in the Celestial Kingdom and had cookies. I guess the point was to scare us into shaping up because we could meet our maker at any time – like, by dying in a horrific plane crash on the way to Hawaii. If I hadn’t thought it was so funny, it probably would have been very traumatic. Not sure what they were thinking.
In terms of the after life, I don’t give it too much thought these days. When I do, I tend to be a universalist. I can’t remember which number that is in the OP. Mostly, I think churches (and I think this is the authentic Christian message) should put their efforts toward improving lives and promoting human flourishing here in now. To quote the poet:
“Ooh Baby do you know what that’s worth?
Ooh Heaven is a place on Earth
They say in Heaven love comes first
We’ll make Heaven a place on Earth
Ooh Heaven is a place on Earth.”
If I dream of my mansion above, I do not see a kingdom, a castle, and a throne, but a star-lit home without walls I share in love with all.
The “kingdoms of glory” conceit is too medieval for my tastes. ”Degrees of glory” better captures for me the essence of what can be a much more equitable and hopeful eschatology not just for any hereafter, but for here on earth as well as we all face the inevitability and mystery of death.
“Degrees of glory” can reflect the infinitely varied degrees to which each of us, at any point in time and space, has the ability–within potentially endless capacity–to perceive, participate in, and even create existence. Trying to reduce the fathomless variety of human experience into a soteriological Sorting-Hat sort of exercise by which each of us is perfectly placed into one of four posthumous Houses (House Celestial, House Terrestrial, House Telestial, and House Perdition a.k.a. House Outer Darkness) would be laughably absurd if it weren’t the case that so many people–including many (most? all?) church leaders–take such a reductionist and literalist notion so deadly serious as to promulgate it with the utmost gravity, piety, and pearl-clutching.
Insofar as we talk of “kingdoms of glory,” we ought to be talking metaphorically about the degrees of existence we have experienced, are experiencing, and may experience in the future. The “telestial kingdom” and “terrestrial kingdom” are better understood, I believe, as metaphorical subsets encompassed by a “celestial kingdom” that serves as a metaphor for all of existence, both personal and collective, from what is enjoyed at any given moment as the pinnacle of heaven all the way down to what is suffered at any given moment as the deepest depths of hell.
The greatest blasphemy of all may be the craven and self-adulating desire for “iron curtains” between states of existence (call them kingdoms or degrees or whatever else) that forever block the “unworthy” from communion with the “righteous.” Such bars to progression–and “progression” may be better conceptualized as expansion in endless directions and dimensions–in the limitless “celestial kingdom” of existence itself, are antithetical to the very heart of atonement, of bringing everything together in wholeness, and especially of bringing all sentient relationships into healing and harmony with one another.
I’ve abandoned ideas about being judged on our righteousness, faith, and ability to adhere to rules. All I want in the eternities is a safe place where I can do things I enjoy and be around people who won’t hurt me. Meaning … no family and no Church. I believe we’ll live in communities. I want to live in a community of kind people. People who don’t yell or ridicule others. People who discuss how to help rather than why they shouldn’t help. I want things to work on because I like projects and work. Most of it should be creating beautiful things. Artists should be honored, and we’ll all find something artistic to do. There should be pets.
I don’t know what will happen to other people; I just want to be in a community where I’ll be safe. Maybe I’ll have the luxury of not having to take care of anyone.
Life’s been a bit rough the past couple weeks. I’m not sure why; nothing bad has really happened. But right now, heaven just means feeling safe again. I don’t care about glory and power.
“There should be pets . .” Thank you, Janey !
I’m sitting here contemplating the premise of the OP and reading through the comments. And of course I’m overthinking a thesis of what our future existence in reality may actually, possibly be like. I’m trying to synthesize some structure that’s informed by a theology/cosmology/whatever, learned through Mormon American filters, and integrating that with the social, moral and spiritual real world experiences I’ve both experienced and witnessed, and my thoughts are a muddle. But I have tears running down my face.
Some of us, many of us, maybe all of us have been deeply injured by our experiences in this life. There is no place I want to be if it has the kind of unbalanced, unacknowledged oppression and unrelenting threat of shameful failure like there is here. I don’t see any choices upthread that fix this for nonconformists like me. Or all the rest of the others. I’m with Janey, I don’t want to be stuck in another unsafe realm where my welfare is transactional at best, if I’m always wary and I fight for it, and invalid if I don’t. I would rather fade out of existence or become something non-sentient than spend eternity stuck in the end game where we are all sorted according to some standard of perceived worth and achievements, that we mostly established in the dumpster fire morality of this world.
Thinking about this has stirred an image in my head, from a memory of visiting the Met Museum years ago. I was going up a spacious stairwell on the far corner of the building and as I ascended, there was a bronze figure attached to the wall, crouching upside down rather outside the laws of gravity. It was female, very fine work with a rough textural quality that I prefer, but with a spark of life, and interesting. Her head was at my eye-level, turned away. I approached and read the label next to it. “Kiki Smith, ‘Lilith’” and raised my eyes to look into the eyes of this creature, not bronze but made of glass with light brown irises, and as lifelike as dead eyes can be. And stopped cold. So for a good while I audited this most competent expression of what it means to reject Judeo-Christian patriarchy right from the beginning. And now I carry Kiki’s Lilith around in my head, and sometimes when I’m considering how things might be after one dies, she rises to the surface of the exercise to add her .02 and complicate things.
(You can google it and see that I’m not the only one Kiki’s Lilith has ambushed.)
Maverick,
It is so ironic that today leaders use a theology that was originally meant to be an expansion of heaven, to threaten families with loosing their loved ones. To me it’s a hurtful trend, that is the exact opposite of sharing the gospel of Christ.
lws329,
Agreed. It’s tragic.
My thoughts stray a bit from OP and a Mormon theology but for me it started from that place, and has gradually grown over time. Perhaps the most inspiring version of the afterlife I’ve heard tends to have more bearing on this life. That is “living a life that leaves no trace”. It tends to be antinatalist in its analysis but when I heard it first it meant to me living a life in harmony with the other life around you. When I combine that idea with the wonder in what exists (what I experience as the world around us), assuming there is no God behind it, I get a tremendous swelling of gratitude just for the gift of being able to experience it. That is what I hope the experience is like once this life is over.
The best afterlife model I’ve seen is the Good Place finale. I love the idea of continuing to grow and learn until eventually we just become a source of goodness and inspiration for other beings.
I believe there are some people who are just so evil they will have their basic elements recycled and not be allowed to continue. They might include men who torture their wives and children. Also those who do large damage, hitler, putin, netinyahu, kin jon un, and trump. If you have trouble including trump look up the mexico city policy https://www.hrw.org/news/2018/02/14/trumps-mexico-city-policy-or-global-gag-rule 20,000 maternal deaths, and much suffering in third world.
There are also some people who are just bad, mass killers etc.
I believe there will be a class of people who vote for or support totally evil people who will need reeducation to be worthy of any progress.
There is another group including LDS Prophers who delivered their opinions as coming from the Lord, and caused immense damage. They will be surprised they are in the lowest kingdom requiring reeducation before they can progress.
Most people throughout the world are good, and if there is an afterlife will be rewarded for there contribution to making the world a better place.
There was discussion previously about jack gerrard. He was paid 6 million a year by big oil to undermine, often by underhanded means, climate science. April was again the hottest month on record in a series of 12. He contributed to tipping the world toward the point of no return for a habitable earth. How many in the third world will he damage, and what should be his reward?