Ladies and gentlemen, apparently the universe has penciled us in for the Rapture between Sept. 23 and Sept. 24.
Yes, the Rapture—the cosmic event where true believers get snatched up to the sky like divine Uber riders, leaving the rest of us to figure out who’s driving their abandoned cars on I-45.
Now, I don’t mean to spoil the mood, but humanity has been rescheduling this Rapture like it’s a brunch date nobody really wants to attend. Every few years, someone announces, “This is it! Bags packed, we’re going up!” Yet, somehow, we’re still here. Still paying rent. Still fighting traffic. Still hearing politicians say things that make you wish they would get beamed up immediately.
But, since this Rapture has allegedly been confirmed for Sept. 23–24 (give or take a time zone), let’s treat it like it’s really happening. And if it doesn’t, hey—that just means we’re already prepared for the next one.
Pre-Rapture “Things to Do” list
- Check your Rapture outfit. Don’t be the one floating skyward in busted sweats and mismatched socks. Remember, eternity is forever and Instagram lives forever too.
- Clear your browser history. Just in case.
- Say your goodbyes. Or don’t. Some of y’all have relatives you’d rather see raptured than reunite with.
- Charge your phone. You’ll want to livestream your ascension—or at least record footage of your neighbor’s F-150 mysteriously rolling down the street.
- Make peace with Whataburger. Those spicy ketchup cravings won’t follow you to glory.
Rapture for dummies: A quick guide
For the uninitiated, think of the Rapture as a cosmic draft pick: Some get called up, some get left behind and no one’s quite sure what criteria Coach is using. Luckily, a viral video recently circulated of a woman offering “Rapture tips”—and it’s comedy gold. Inspired by her, here’s a simplified guide:
- If you feel yourself lifting off, keep your arms close. No one wants to see you helicopter-spinning into eternity.
- Don’t panic if your wig comes loose. Gravity is temporary; heaven is forever.
- Avoid screaming mid-air. You don’t want to arrive in paradise sounding like you’re on a rollercoaster.
- If you’re left behind: Don’t despair. It’s not the end of the world—well, actually, it might be, but you’ll have options (see below).
- Dress comfortably. You don’t want to be caught mid-Rapture in skinny jeans or a romper that won’t let you breathe.
- Wave goodbye with dignity. Don’t scream or cry; float off like you’ve got first-class boarding passes.
- Keep your edges laid. There will be photos. You never know which angels are running social media.
Post-Rapture possibilities
Let’s imagine, for a moment, that the evangelical white nationalist Christians do, in fact, get Raptured away. Think of all the possibilities that suddenly open up for the rest of us:
- Pass common-sense gun laws. With fewer “thoughts and prayers” politicians around, we might finally save lives.
- Institute equal pay for equal work. Finally, women could earn what they deserve without hearing “But the Bible says…” Imagine that—women actually earning what men earn. Revolutionary.
- Hold police accountable. Pass qualified immunity reform and make justice more than just a slogan.
- Protect reproductive rights. Women could have agency over their own bodies without facing biblical guilt trips from politicians.
- Teach real history. Imagine classrooms where students learn about African history before enslavement, slavery, Reconstruction, Jim Crow and systemic racism without school boards clutching their pearls.
- Save the planet. Environmental protections could be reinstated, because no one left would be yelling that climate change is a “hoax.” And, while the “Raptured” are floating in the sky, the rest of us still need clean air.
- Reverse anti-everybody policies. Everything signed into law since January 2025, designed to target nonwhite, nonmale, non-MAGA folks could be rolled back faster than you can say, “Hallelujah!”
Honestly, the idea of a post-Rapture America sounds less like a nightmare and more like a long-overdue reboot.
One question, though…
If you’re convinced you’ll be snatched up by angels soon, why are you selling your house? Why are you unloading your car on Craigslist? Why are you giving away your flat-screen TV? If heaven is calling, you won’t need a U-Haul or cash. Unless… deep down… you’re not quite sure that ticket has your name on it.
It’s almost like some folks are hedging their bets—profiting off their supposed departure while planning for the possibility of sticking around. This begs another question: Why should the rest of us take your prediction seriously if you’re not confident in your own ascension?
Either way, Sept. 25 will be interesting
Whether folks get beamed up Star Trek–style or we all wake up to the same old Houston humidity, Sept. 25 will be an interesting day.
If the Rapture comes, congratulations to those who made the cut. If it doesn’t, maybe it’s time to ask: what are we doing with the lives we’ve got right now?
Whether we’re preparing for Heaven or trying to make Earth a little less hellish, the truth is the same: The real test isn’t whether you float. It’s whether you fight for what’s right while you’re here.
