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.