Heaven’s Spoons

A deacon from my childhood once shared a story that stuck with me.

In the story, a man was given a glimpse of heaven and hell. But he wasn’t shown clouds or flames. He was shown a table.

Both places had the same setup: a long banquet table piled high with enough food to satisfy everyone.

But there was a catch.

In hell, the people sat stiff and bitter. They held absurdly long spoons. The spoons were twice as long as their own arms. They could not feed themselves. No matter how hard they twisted or leaned or contorted, the food always dropped just short of their mouths and spoiled.

So they starved. Not because the food was gone, but because they only thought of feeding themselves.

Then the man was shown heaven. The table was exactly the same. So were the spoons.

But here, the people were laughing. Joyful. Well-fed.

Why?

In heaven, each person used their long spoon to reach across the table and feed someone else, knowing they, too, would be fed in return. No one went hungry because everyone cared more about serving than being served.

Same tools. Same table. Same situation.
Only the hearts were different.

It’s a simple story, but one I think of often.

We live in a world full of long spoons: titles, tools, talents, privileges. They’re wonderful gifts. But they become burdens when used selfishly and blessings when used to serve.

Faith isn’t just about personal nourishment.
It’s about building a table where everyone eats.

So this week, think about the spoon you’ve been given.
Is it long? Heavy? Unwieldy?

Perfect.
Just long enough to reach someone else.