The Divine Vending Machine
I am one of those people who goes to religious services not because he is particularly devout, in spite of what has been said about me all of my life. I go to hear what other people are thinking about God and each other. Sometimes the speakers blow me away. The things they say, the way they behave in real life, are totally opposite any preconceived notions I may have. They are real men and women actually devoted to lives of service to each other and the Divine. There are people who totally catch me off guard. They say things I would never think — or would never think to come out of their mouths. And then there are those who are sadly predictable. They spout the party line, play the game and center their lives around worldly success. They are tremendously disappointing men and women.
One Catholic priest caught me off guard a few days ago when he said that people think of God as a divine vending machine.
How extraordinarily true.
Why? Because they can. They have the notion that whatever deity or deities they believe in are supposed to do what they want them to do. They see themselves as spiritual CEO’s of their personal God, Inc.
How many times I have heard complaints that there can be no God because God would never allow something to happen which does not fit that person’s plan. Whether it’s a war, a change in government, losing a ball game or the death of a beloved friend or relative. These things happen.
When we’re inserting coins in the divine vending machine we forget that it doesn’t exist. There is no such machine. The spiritual life doesn’t work that way because the gimmicks we want to work for our personal desires are not enough.
They are never enough.
Have you ever looked at your internal vending machine? The things called heart and mind and soul. The places inside ourselves that deal with life and death issues. That make the decisions about what clothes to wear and what to do on our time off from work.
Those places inside us, our hearts, our minds and our souls, give us the strength to make decisions big and small. Whether it’s a corn flakes day or a croissant day. If we are willing and able to help someone in need. It’s terrifically critical that our whole self is open to the cold reality that sometimes we’re just plain the wrong person to help when someone asks us. There’s a miracle in knowing that. There’s also a miracle in knowing who other than us might be a much better person to help out another person in a crisis. Whether it’s life and death or not so much, the miracle lies in knowing we don’t have to know everything. We don’t have to be anyone more and different than we already are.
However we look at it, I learned a long time ago that it’s a huge relief not to have to constantly pop out the right answers. My place in life is to know what I know and to do the best I can. I cannot be your divine vending machine just because you want something you think I may be able to provide you. Even when I do know the answers to questions others have — it goes along with being claircognizant (the ability to clearly know something from listening to others’ souls or having the clarity of intuitive knowing) — that does not necessarily mean that I am going to tell people what they want to know. At those times I hear my angels tell me not to tell the person. The angels are given a clarity beyond anything I might have. It does not matter if I think it’s fine to tell the person the answer to what they ask. The angels give me God’s word that the person is looking for easy answers.
Once again, there is no divine vending machine. My spiritual responsibility to my Creator and creation is to be silent.
I cannot tell you how your relationships will be for the rest of your life. Typically, when someone asks me if they will ever meet their life partner, I tell them they need to work on themselves. They need to date themselves. Go out with friends sometimes, learn how to be alone other times. That’s the answer I was told from the Divine. I told that to a woman about a decade ago. Within a year she told me she was dating someone. When I told her very definitively how thrilled I was for them, she gave me a quizzical look. I told her that when she had asked earlier I knew they were supposed to be a couple, but that the work was entirely up to her. If I told her anything, it ran the risk of totally blowing up what had become her new life.
That’s the way vending machines work, divine or not. Sometimes you get your candy bar, sometimes you lose your money.
It’s the same with work and health. People have asked me very practical questions about them, but the fact is that everything changes constantly in those areas because we change. You decide about your line of work. You are the only person who ultimately can. You put in the effort to be in good health. Don’t come looking to me or I may tell you it’s all about ice cream and potato chips.
There is no divine vending machine. Moving forward with your life, what are you going to do so that you can more freely hear what the Creator has in store for you?
