One Tuesday morning earlier this spring, I went to the men’s breakfast. Every Tuesday, about a dozen Bethany men gather at the Olive Branch Restaurant in Bowmansville for coffee, breakfast, and conversation. I enjoy it, but my attendance is weak. Monday’s my day off, so Tuesday, my first day back in the office is crazy busy. Unfortunately, in recent months other responsibilities have occupied that time slot.

Since forever, the breakfast started at 7:00 AM.

I’m not particularly an early morning guy, so I usually slip in right at 7:00. By then all the guys are usually there, coffee’s been poured, and the conversation is already moving. A few weeks earlier, I had walked in late, just as Lydia, our waitress, was finishing taking the orders. I apologized for being late as the guys scrambled to pull up an additional chair, and Lydia rounded up a place setting and fresh cup of coffee. I hurriedly placed my order.

But this Tuesday was different.

I was determined not to be late and pulled in at 6:55 feeling pretty punctual. I walked in expecting the normal rhythm, only to discover everyone already seated, menus collected, orders placed, and conversations in full swing. I awkwardly slid into a chair while Lydia kindly took my order, but the restaurant was especially busy that morning. My breakfast arrived almost after everyone else was finished eating.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Gary Snader mentioned, “Yeah, breakfast starts at 6:45 now.”

Wait… what? “When did that happen?”

“Oh, a couple months ago. One of the guys needs to get to work earlier, so we moved it back fifteen minutes.”

I didn’t know.

And if Gary hadn’t mentioned it, and me only coming occasionally, I might have continued showing up at 7 for months, convinced I was arriving on time while everyone else knew differently.

I wasn’t late because I was lazy. I wasn’t disregarding the group or trying to make a statement. I simply hadn’t received the information everyone else had.

The incident was trivial, but the principle isn’t.

I wonder how often we encounter people who appear to be doing the wrong thing and immediately conclude they’re careless, stubborn, or foolish, when in reality they’re simply uninformed.

And that’s where the book of Proverbs provides a surprisingly helpful category.

Recently, in our church Bible listening plan, we listened through Proverbs. One of the recurring themes of the book is that there are different responses to God’s wisdom. Proverbs introduces three broad categories of people: the wise, the simple, and the fool.

The wise person receives instruction and responds to it. Proverbs 9:9 says:

“Instruct the wise and they will be wiser still; teach the righteous and they will add to their learning.”

The wise understand that they don’t know everything. They are teachable. They listen and learn. Their lives are anchored in what Proverbs calls “the fear of the Lord.”

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding” (Proverbs 9:10).

On the other end of the spectrum is the fool. Proverbs uses that term not primarily to describe intelligence, but attitude. The fool rejects instruction. He insists on his own way, often to his own detriment.

“The way of fools seems right to them, but the wise listen to advice” (Proverbs 12:15).

But there’s a third category that often gets overlooked: the simple.

When we hear the word simple, we often think of someone unintelligent or naïve. That’s not how Proverbs uses the term. The simple person lacks knowledge, discernment, or experience. They haven’t yet learned what they need to know.

In fact, they are one of the primary audiences of the book:

“For giving prudence to those who are simple, knowledge and discretion to the young” (Proverbs 1:4).

The simple person isn’t necessarily rebellious. They may be completely teachable. They simply haven’t been shown the path yet.

These aren’t permanent labels. In different areas of life, all of us move between these categories.

There are areas where we are wise because we’ve learned to follow God’s ways.

There are areas where we’re simple because we haven’t yet learned what we need to know.

And sadly, there are moments when we’re foolish because we think we know better and choose our own way anyway.

That’s why this distinction matters.

We miss opportunities for encouragement, discipleship, and growth when we assume people are foolish when they may simply be simple.The teenager making poor choices may not be rebelling against wisdom; he may never have been taught wisdom.

Unfortunately, we often rush to assign motives when a little curiosity would serve us better.

We make negative character judgments when patient instruction is what’s actually needed.

One of the most Christlike things we can do is slow down and extend a little grace before drawing conclusions about people.

Not every mistake is rebellion. Not every blind spot is stubbornness. Sometimes people are hurting. Sometimes they’re inexperienced. And sometimes they simply don’t know.

Maybe that’s a reminder for all of us this week.

Before assigning motives, ask questions.

Before drawing conclusions, seek to understand.

And before labeling someone foolish, consider whether they may simply be simple—someone who hasn’t yet learned what you already know.

After all, I wasn’t late because I was rebellious.

Nobody told me breakfast started at 6:45.