The Parable of the Machine in the Middle
The blog is written by Barbara Westberg
Part 1 in a series of 3
“Freely ye have received; freely give” (Matthew 10:8).
The vending machine stood tall and proud; its trim glistening in the fluorescent light. On one side
slumped a scarred machine shooting out soft drinks when someone pushed its buttons. On the other
side stood another machine twice as plump half-full of fresh sandwiches straight from the deli. Neither
were as sparkling clean as the one in the middle. “No one shines brighter than I do,” it gloried. “No one
is as full as I am.” He beamed as he surveyed the chips, the candy bars, the pastries which stuffed his
belly.
Into the lunchroom came a hungry man jingling change in his pocket. He inserted coins into the soft
drink machine and pushed a button. Plop! His Coke landed in the smudged pocket. The man grabbed it
and moved to stand in front of the machine in the middle. “Hmmm. Nice selection here,” he muttered.
“I think I’ll take a pastry.”
The machine greedily gulped down the man’s coins. Then something happened. “Why should I give
up my goodies to this man? What has he done to deserve my blessings? He thinks a few coins will satisfy
me? No way. He will never appreciate my sacrifice.” The machine’s gears ground to a halt.
Frustrated the man shook the machine. Nothing happened. He slapped it. Nothing. He kicked it.
Nothing.
It was locked up.
It selfishly clung to the coins and refused to give anything in return. Soon someone slapped a sign on
it: Out of Order. Day after day passed, its merchandise grew stale. People hardly gave it a glance as they
fed their coins into the other machines and left with their hands full. The machines on the right and the
left whirled as they accepted coins and spit out snacks. Every morning they were refilled with fresh
goods. Every day they gave and gave and gave.
A week passed. Two. Three. Finally, the technician came. He selected a key from his heavy key ring
and opened the front of the machine. He studied its innards, squirting WD-40 everywhere. He tightened
screws. He loosened screws. He pulled wires. He unplugged and replugged pieces. He even replaced a
few rusty pieces with new ones. No matter what the technician did, the machine refused to dispense
anything. “I deserve this stuff,” he squeaked. “It’s mine. I deser. . . .”
The technician gathered up his tools and several discarded pieces of the machine. He dumped the
stale merchandise into the trash. He loaded the vending machine on a two-wheeler. Out the door they
went.
Soon a new shining vending machine stocked with fresh merchandise stood in its place. People
smiled as they fed it their coins and snacks slid down the tube into the machine’s pocket. Each morning
the replacement machine was restocked, and each day it gave and gave and gave.
“Freely I have received,” it said, “freely I will give.”
Call to Action:
In what ways do you relate to the machine in the middle?
Is it time to place a service call for the technician?
Have you given out until you are exhausted? Do you need restocked with fresh passion and inspiration? How do you plan to do that?