Unlocking the Mysteries of the Mormon Afterlife: The Wildest Board Game You’ll Ever Play

Imagine an afterlife where you get to rule your own planet, populate it with spirit babies, and live like a celestial boss. Sounds wild, right? Welcome to the Mormon afterlife, a cosmic board game where the stakes are eternal and the rules are… well, let’s just say they’re complicated.

Grab your “devil’s bean juice” (or not), and let’s dive into the wacky, mind-bending lore of the Mormon afterlife. As an ExMormon, I think this is one of the strangest aspects of my past religion.

Spirit Babies and the Pre-Earth Life: God’s DIY Project

Before you popped into existence, your soul was chillin’ in the “premortal existence,” a sort of celestial waiting room. God, or Heavenly Father as he’s called here, teamed up with Heavenly Mother (or Mothers… the jury’s out on the number) to scoop up some “intelligences” floating around the universe, mash them together with some divine magic, and boom — spirit babies. That’s you, me, and everyone else.

The plan? Ship us down to Earth for a big ol’ test to see who’s worthy of coming back and who’s getting stuck in Mormon purgatory. Welcome to “The Plan of Happiness,” which feels more like “The Plan of Stressing Over Every Little Thing.”

Jesus vs. Lucifer: The Ultimate Sibling Rivalry

Before we got sent to Earth, there was some serious drama up in heaven. Picture this: Jesus and Lucifer, both big shots in the heavenly family, pitch their plans for humanity. Jesus goes all “let them have free will,” while Lucifer says, “Nah, let’s just force everyone to be good. Easy win.” Heavenly Father picks Jesus’s plan, and Lucifer throws the celestial equivalent of a hissy fit, taking a third of the spirit children with him.

The result? Lucifer becomes Satan, his crew gets booted to Earth as demons, and you get to deal with this mess during your earthly test. Fun times, right?

Earth Life: Coffee Is Evil, and So Is Your Shoulder

Now that you’re here, it’s time to prove yourself worthy. The rules? Fork over 10% of your income, ditch coffee and tea, and for the love of all that’s holy, keep those scandalous shoulders covered. But wait, there’s more! If Mormon missionaries ever corner you and spill the heavenly tea, congrats — you’re now accountable for it. And if you don’t play by the rules? Eternal Barbie doll status in the telestial kingdom for you.

The Afterlife: Paradise or Prison (and No, It’s Not Heaven Yet)

When you die, your soul takes a detour to either Spirit Paradise or Spirit Prison. Paradise is like the VIP lounge for baptized Mormons, while Prison is for everyone else. Don’t fret too much, though. Mormons have a workaround called proxy baptisms (AKA baptisms for the dead), where they get dunked in the temple on behalf of the dearly departed. It’s like a posthumous hall pass to move up the celestial ladder.

Eventually, we all hit the Resurrection and Final Judgment. Here’s where the real action happens:

1. Celestial Kingdom: The VIP of VIPs. It’s sun-level bright and reserved for the most faithful Mormons. You’re married, baptized, and ready to be a god.
2. Terrestrial Kingdom: The middle tier. Moon-level bright and for decent folks who didn’t quite make the Mormon cut.
3. Telestial Kingdom: Star-level dim. The spiritual basement for liars, murderers, and anyone who dared to sip a latte.

As for hell? It’s called Outer Darkness, and it’s reserved for Satan, his posse, and the very rare human who denied Jesus in the flesh. Spoiler: it’s almost impossible to end up here. Yes, even Hitler’s probably chilling in the telestial kingdom.

Celestial Kingdom Perks: Godhood and Planetary Real Estate

The big prize for playing this game right? The Celestial Kingdom, where you’ll chill with Heavenly Father and Jesus. But wait, there’s a catch: Even within the Celestial Kingdom, there are levels. To hit the highest level, known as exaltation, you need to snag yourself an eternal spouse in the temple. Don’t have one? Sorry, you’re not getting that planet.

Yes, you heard that right. If you’ve checked all the celestial boxes, you’re on your way to becoming a god or goddess. You’ll create your own planet, populate it with spirit babies, and run your own divine experiment. Imagine being your own version of God, complete with your own Jesus and Satan. It’s the ultimate cosmic micromanagement gig.

TL;DR: The Mormon Afterlife Is Bananas

Whether you find these beliefs inspiring or just plain bonkers, there’s no denying the entertainment value of the Mormon afterlife. It’s a divine soap opera with eternal stakes, where everyone gets a shot at redemption — even if it means getting proxy dunked after death. So, if you’re ever pondering the stars, just remember: One of them could be your future planet, complete with celestial drama and an eternal supply of spirit babies. Now that’s what I call the ultimate endgame.