Andy, the Samaritan, and the Messiah

The Story:

Once upon a time, there was a runaway slave who is running through the woods to complete his escape plan. He approaches a lion that stops him in his tracks, for this beast is injured. If not for a large thorn, the lion would be freely roaming the woods as he usually does on a normal day. Unfortunately, the thorn is the reason he is down for the count, a victim of the thorn whose sharp, pointy edge has debilitated the king of the forest and paralyzed him from striking fear in his prey. Though it does not explicitly say, it is likely the injury from the thorn has simultaneously hurt the lion and allowed the slave to flee from his owner unharmed.

But something interesting happens. The runaway slave, whose name is Androcles, like most adventure movies, sees his exit, the hurting lion, then his exit, and quickly weighs the pros and cons in his head. This is also probably the point where, if this story were a show airing on FOX, it would shoot to a commercial, causing the entire room of viewers to wait impatiently for the decision the protagonist (or antagonist) will make.

Instead of making his in and out of the woods unharmed - after all, what good is a lion if his paw is bloodied from a sharp thorn? - the slave stoops down to aid the lion by pulling the thorn out of his paw and nursing him back to health. The lion, out of a show of gratitude, takes the slave to his cave, provides him with meat he collects from the forest, and essentially keeps him safe from the rest of the world. Unfortunately, their freedom comes to and end shortly after, because both are found by the emperor of Rome and separated for some time before being taken into the arena to be seen as a public spectacle in a gladiator fight.

When the time comes for slave and lion to perform in this dual, the ravenous lion is let out of the cage to face the man and bounds with great speed in an effort to make the slave his food.

Right before pouncing, the lion recognizes the man and instead of eating him whole, he stops and begins licking him as a sign of friendship and affection. The emperor is so thrown off by this display of love, loyalty, and devotion, he pardons both the slave and the lion and thus declaring them officially free. No longer is the slave considered "runaway" free but free "by law," so he no longer has to live in fear of being caught again.

Kindness is the Theme of Life:

I love using this story to teach the components of literature to my students because, at fifth grade, students are ruthlessly rude and disrespectful to one another, break hearts in the name of "self-defense", speak sarcastically to one another, and develop proficiency at navigating - and hiding behind - the digital codes of social media. They become bullies in their own right. If you want evidence, eavesdrop into a conversation and you'll quickly find out how unforgiving the battleground of an adolescent can be -- and it's not just what they speak with their mouths, it's also what they don't say and their lack of manners that can often be appalling to anyone who knows anything about common courtesy. 

With this short story, I can teach elements of fictional literature and model how we should treat each other all in one lesson. Androcles and the Lion is Aesop's gift to all teachers. Androcles & the Lion demonstrates, in a slightly exaggerated way, the good that can come from being a Good Samaritan even when no one asked you, or paid you, to play that role. 

Some would call it Karma, some would call it God protecting those choose to be like Jesus, and some might label it "being the good the world needs." Regardless of what my takeaways from this story are, it's an easy one to teach my 5th graders because kindness is powerful no matter what religion you believe, time period you live in, or society you are part of, kindness does a whole lot of good for any community. Personally, I feel kids at this age get lost navigating through what they want versus what they experience the world giving them on a daily basis. They desperately crave to fit in, be liked, and feel understood. If they don't, they resort to versions of themselves they would never want to be friends with if they saw themselves behaving the way they do. Kids at this age, and maybe you and I from time to time, need a little bit of Andy and The Lion to teach us a few lessons or two about kindness.

 Everything to Gain, Everything to Lose 

As a teacher educating 10-year-olds on the theme of this story, I always hear the tip-of-the-iceberg or Mariana Trench responses to "What is Aesop's moral of this story?" Tip-of-the-iceberg is the simple reply: "Kill them with kindness!" or "Kindness is cool." 

I want to go deeper than that. Mariana Trench deep.

In other words, what is the cost of kindness? What does "even when it's hard" look like?

Students are smart to add, "Even when it's hard," because there is plenty of text evidence to connect to the claim. We call that "Supporting Details." But where is the evidence in their own life when kindness is difficult? Most kids can tell you how to be kind, define kind, and wear Old Navy shirts with "Choose Kindness" embroidered across the front of it. We're good at preaching kindness, but what do we do when an injured lion steps in front of your agenda?

Think about it like this: the moment the Lion strikes the thorn, the roles are reversed. The slave has power because of the freedom he experiences while on the run - no one to depend on anymore. The Lion is now dependent on the removal of the thorn to regain his reputation as king of the jungle. In a world where everyone and everything operates under their identity, the slave is weak and the lion is strong. Additionally, if this lion really is the King of the jungle, a pesky thorn should have nothing on him. This thorn is a mere dust mite compared to the lion's sheer strength and will power. Right? Not only does the lion represent an obstacle standing between the slave and his freedom, he's also dealing with an animal that could destroy you from limb to limb because he has a big appetite. I don't know if you've heard, but it is quite difficult to reason with a hungry lion. They typically don't see a human to befriend, but meat to devour and consume. Once the thorn is gone, so is Androcles. Gone to be with the inside of the the lion's stomach. 

When Androcles experiences a moment of hesitation, if there is one, upon hearing the cries of the injured lion, he has everything to gain upon ignoring those cries. On the flipside, he has everything to lose if he assists the lion through his predicament: Androcles could get tricked by this beast in the forest and get eaten alive or the slave master could catch up to him and send him back with a severe punishment awaiting him. Best case scenario, it stalls his perfect escape from slave life - he's almost to the finish line where freedom is waiting to join him. Worse case scenario, his one shot at escaping the hands of his master is gone either because he gets eaten alive or the master finds him and returns him from whence he came.

 No one would judge him, scold him, or rip him apart on social media if he decides to ignore the lion. If anything, Androcles would be encouraged to leave the lion alone - after all, he's preserving his own life.  No one would blame, Androcles. To make the decision easier, no one in the forest was witnessing firsthand the dilemma staring him down; there was no Instagram following, no Facebook Live feed for Androcles' friends to view, and no news van parked in the forest so the runaway slave's kindness would go viral. He had no motivating factor to do his deed of the day. He had no agent chirping in his ear telling him to perform an act of kindness so the entire forest would know about in order for it to improve his image as the good guy doing good things. It was the lion, Androcles, and his moral compass guiding him. Despite having everything to lose and a healthy, man-eating lion to gain, Androcles still chose to rescue the hurting lion. 

If you ignore the ending of the story, and even the part where Andy and the lion become besties, there is no logical reason the slave should stop to help. No reason whatsoever. Period.

Let's stick with the Tip-of-the-Iceberg response: Kindness is cool. Is it? In this case, it doesn't sound too cool. Yes, Andy is kind, and that's respectable. If cool means eating raw meat the lion gives you as a gift, getting recaptured, and forced to fight against a ravenous lion in an arena - the same killer lion who you just befriended, then yes, cool. But that wouldn't be a cool life for me. The moment the word "Recaptured" was part of the timeline, I stopped considering pulling a thorn out as an option.

Let's zoom in on Andy's decision making for a minute. In the beginning of the story, Androcles is a runaway slave in a forest where his owner is no where to be seen. What does this mean for the slave? His escape plan worked. Androcles is probably no different than your typical human. He probably reasoned with himself to not show anyone kindness or help anyone in need because that would stall his only shot at freedom. No one would oppose him deciding to do what makes him happy. His slave friends probably said something along the lines of "You do you" or "Let the haters hate." When the slave hears the cries of the lion, all the convincing the devil on Androcles' shoulder did to keep him focused on his escape plan fell to the wayside. He used his freedom to set the lion free. He traded the freedom he had to love the lion unconditionally, even if it cost him any future freedom he would have. He didn't keep his freedom to himself; he shared it by giving the lion a shot at freedom from the thorn.

That's the Mariana Trench response.

What this Means to Us:

In a lot of ways, Androcles should be us on any given day. We are called to a higher standard in how we treat one another, not just when it is most convenient or when all eyes are on us. The fact that Androcles and the Lion takes place in the forest where no other creatures a mentioned is not by accident. Androcles gave up his perfect escape plan because someone needed help - and without a moment's hesitation, he jumped in to save the lion. He risked his own life to save the lion so the lion could get back to doing lion things. Androcles is the Aesop's Fables version of the Good Samaritan.

One of the observations my students undoubtedly make at some point in the conversations we have about this story is how many times the slave could have taken care of his needs and done nothing for the lion. First, he could have kept running through the woods and taken advantage of the lion's thorn misfortune. Second, when the lion brings Androcles to the cave to feed him food as a gift for pulling the thorn out of his paw, he could have said "toodles" after getting his fill. Since he didn't, Androcles was recaptured and sent to the Colosseum to take part in the games against his friend, the lion.

The more you think about this story, the more it makes you wonder what would have happened if Andy didn't stop and assist the lion. Sure, he may have still gotten recaptured and dropped into the arena to face the lion, or maybe not. Maybe Andy would be spotted on some nameless island off the grid, sipping Pina Coladas and munching on the finest fresh sushi. All you can eat too. Regardless of the outcome, Andy sacrificed his freedom so someone else could be free. The slaves freedom from slavery became the lion's freedom from a thorn. Isn't this what we're called to do as well? In a moments notice, we should consider how to step in to assist those who need it, regardless of what it accomplishes for us. It is evident in this short story that not once did Andy consider what saving the lion would do for himself. 

Unfortunately, too often, I do the opposite of Androcles. I calculate the risk of being Jesus to others and wind up talking myself out of kindness. Like Andy and the lion, the Samaritan who assisted the Jewish man in distress was a part of a people group staunchly opposed to Jews. While lions and humans are not known to be enemies of each other, they also are not known to be within the same pride - they are not known to coexist in the wild together, and anyone who advises you to pack your bags to go live with the lions in the grasslands of Africa is an utter fool. 

So, we have a runaway slave who assists a lion without regard for his own future in one of Aesop's fables. We have a Samaritan man going out of his way to help a Jewish man heal in one of the parables told by Jesus. Both of the main characters in each story have no reason to do what they did except because it is the right thing to do. They both did something great for someone else, even if it meant sacrificing their own agenda. 

On the cross, Jesus didn't just do what he did because "Kindness is cool." Andy, the Samaritan, and Jesus all represent a step deeper than kindness: Love. The first two stories are fictional - a fable and a parable. Jesus' story of dying on the cross so we can experience life is real. His loving kindness was not shown out of convenience. It cost him his freedom. He died a brutal death, filled with torture, humiliation, and indescribable pain so that we could live an abundant life. He pulled the thorn out of us and wore a crown of them on his head. That's not just kindness. It's love. 

It's love in the form of sacrifice, and Jesus urges us to use his death an resurrection as an example for how deep our love should be for those around us:

"As the Father has love me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love...My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."

-John 15:13 

Androcles laid his freedom down for the lion so he could be freed. The Good Samaritan aided the Jew in his recovery and sacrificed his time, energy, and finances to help him. Jesus set those captured by sin free by putting those sins on his shoulders and taking them to the cross, where we belonged.

How will you lay your life down for those God placed in your path?

*https://www.wwf.org.uk/learn/fascinating-facts/lions 

**https://www.britannica.com/animal/lion

Mr. Tweed-Suit Man: At Your Service

Over 10 years ago, 2013, it was my first year at EDUPRIZE Charter School in Gilbert, Arizona. It was the beginning of the school year, which meant most of Arizona was God's oven and we were his delicious cookies, hoping to not to melt. But it wasn't the heat that had me worried. On this particular Friday afternoon, we had a half day with the students, and the second half of the day was meetings with the staff. This staff meeting included a special announcement:

"One of the great honors of being one of few A+ rated charter schools in Arizona," our principal began,

"Is that we are a model school for other principals and administrators to look to for ways to improve their own school and also get that A+ rating that we already have." 

She paused.

I gulped.

She continued, "Next week, we're having principals from other schools tour our school, and some of them will pop into your classroom for a visit. Since you're the reason our school gets that A+ rating, we want you to show them how it's done." She smiled that warm smile principals are known to have. I did not share that same smile at the time.

Are you kidding? This is the beginning of my second year. I'm a rookie! No way they're going to see me as the reason we're getting A+ marks. In fact, the reason we have an A+ is because the evaluators haven't been in my room yet! 

I'm not sure if I thought those very words at the time, but I remember being nervous and not having the kind of confidence needed to blow anyone's socks off. But, they were coming, and I had no choice but to pray that they'd either not come in my room or God would come down and turn water to wine - or some kind of miracle that would allow me the opportunity to escape the work day embarrassment-free.

After a sleepless weekend came and went, I was as ready as I could be. Monday morning also came and went, and I was able to breeze through the lessons without worry because there were no visitors popping in; no adults accept me. It was heavenly. I was thankful because it looked like I would escape the day unharmed by these upper-level visitors. I'm pretty sure their workday would be just as productive if they just searched "Incredible teachers" on YouTube and watch those videos, then tell their staff to be like them. Why do they have to come to my classroom to see what cool teachers do in the classroom? I'm not suggesting principals and superintendents are awful people (after all, I got hired by one), but they have expectations and probably drive Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs. In addition, most of them have gone through multiple certifications, all of the teaching positions, and various forms of experience in the school system before being hired into the position they currently held. For them to be inspired by me, I need to show them something amazing. Isn't that how it typically works? While their expectation was to see a great teacher in action, my expectation was that these visitors were the Grim Reaper, and this experience would be the death of me. 

Then the door opened to my classroom. Here we go.

I just started my reading lesson, and in walks a bald man with glasses and brown tweed suit with matching pants. He had a yellow visitor sticker on his right pocket, and he pulled up a chair in the back right corner of the room.

He just watched. The same thing a visiting principal would do. He was clearly that man.

It was my time to shine. Time to put my big-boy pants on and make my principal, my parents, my future kids and their kids, proud. I knew I couldn't toss him out of my classroom, so I did what I knew was best.

I walked over to this tweed-suit-man and introduced myself. 

"Hello, welcome to our school. My name is Mr. Fitz." Get ready to have your mind blown, I guess, I thought.

"Nice to meet you," he replied, standing up. He held out his hand to shake mine. Nice and strong. He had the handshake of a principal and even sounded like a principal. Obviously he ran a school 20-30 minutes from mine, and he probably ran it like a champ.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No, I just wanted to stop in and see how it's going."

"Absolutely, and we're glad you're here!" I replied outwardly. Inwardly, Why me? God help me.

Boy, did He. I decided to go rogue from my written plans and put all of my best training to practice. Spring Arbor University, my Alma Mater, would be proud. Kids 20+ years into the future would be proud. I ran reading centers, made my expectations for the kids clear, infused technology and art into the lesson, and cracked jokes to keep the kids entertained. I did what administrators know as differentiated, monitored students' progress, and managed the behavior and discipline like a professional parent. It was incredible and still ranks in my top-10 best lessons taught to this day.

After I took a moment to catch my breath from the spectacular performance, I noticed the principal standing up to get my attention. 

"Wow, that was amazing. It's good to see my daughter's teacher in action -- oh, I'm sorry --" the tweed-suited man interrupted himself. "I didn't introduce myself...

I'm Ron. Ron Moller. Allison's dad."

Allison's dad? As in, parent of one of my students? I thought. 

I wanted to slap him. Of course he couldn't introduce himself as Allison's dad at the beginning. Of course he had to wait until the end of my spectacular lesson to finally tell me who he really is. My reading lesson was so good, it would be the top video trending that administrators would find on YouTube if they typed "Incredible Teachers" in the search bar and hit enter. 

But who was it for? Who was I trying to impress?

Allison's dad.

Forget he students, I did all of this performing and doing what great teachers did for Allison's dad.

All this man wanted to do was watch me teach his daughter how to infer using quotes from a passage. He wasn't even visiting to help me grade assignments, hang art on the wall, teach a mini-lesson on story structure, or show my students how to juggle. He was there, on the same day principals and administrators were also visiting classrooms mind you, to be convinced his daughter was in good hands being educated by me. 

I don't blame him. He loves his daughter, wants what's best for her, and desires for her to get the best education a 5th grade teacher could offer her. And it's highly unlikely for him to know other schools were coming by to check us out too.

I blame myself. 

After all, I was not hired to inspire parents of fifth grade students. I was not entrusted 25+ students so that their parents could be in awe of my detailed weekly newsletter, amazed by my communication via e-mail and telephone, and be taken aback by my ability to thoroughly conduct parent-teacher conferences with the confidence of a 20-year veteran educator. So, why was I trying so hard to impress Mr. Tweed Suit Man? I knew in my heart I was teaching because I wanted to make the student's lives better, not a late-30s man in a suit watching me teach for the first time. It was meant to be, "Hello Students, Mr. Fitz, at your service," not "Hello Mr. Tweed-Suit Man, Mr. Fitz, at your service." A subtle distinction, but important.

Unfortunately, Mr. Tweed Suit Man is a representation of how easy it is to lose sight of the real mission. Allison's dad symbolizes every time I get swept up in how I am perceived by others in order to gain their approval. Forget how God sees me and the important role he has me playing when I am trying so hard to impress the Tweed Suit men of my life.

Sometimes he is disguised as my wife. Sometimes my boss, or the parents of students I teach. Even myself, perhaps. I often try so hard to prove my worth - to prove I am enough, that I deserve to be a teacher of children. Worse, I continually reflect on my work and tell myself it wasn't good enough even if I have plenty to smile about. 

No matter who dons that suit and sits in the classroom of my mind and heart, I spend so much of my energy devoted to pleasing that person or people, that I forget who I should actually be doing the best work for. Under the topic of teaching, the obvious answer is that my best work should be done for the students. After all, they learn best when I put my best foot forward. 

However, even the kids should not be primary reason why I do the work to the best of my ability: "So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31). It may sound cliché, but when we allow our daily mission statement to be to reflect the glory of God in everything we say and do, it changes our inward mindset and outward posture. Our view of the day is seen through the same lens of God. Our problems, obstacles, and issues seem miniscule in the grand scheme of God's design. Even our victories are only a small fraction of the bigger picture God has in mind.

What does this mantra of doing everything for the glory of God look like on a day-to-day basis? Answer: The theme song of my childhood, sung by none other than my dad. 

This is the day
This is the day

This is the day that the Lord has made

That the Lord has made

I will rejoice

I will rejoice

I will rejoice and be glad in it

And be glad in it.

I couldn't tell you who sung the song, and I am almost certain it didn't win a Grammy, but it doesn't make the message behind it any less powerful and true.

What resonates with me about this song is what it emphasizes. We can all rejoice in anything to the point of idolizing it. According to Merriam-Webster, rejoice means "to feel joy or great delight," so if we want to rejoice in a great Netflix documentary or having a three-day weekend to celebrate an obscure holiday, we could. But this song is emphasizing who made the day and taking delight in it. Dallas Baptist University** defines glorifying God as "to mirror His image, which is to love, and to love generously, as he does." I believe God takes great delight in what he made, and if we are to take delight in each day he made, we are mirroring his image by loving what he loves in the way he loves it. This song takes my heart and mind back to why I even try to be my best in all I do. 

Secondly, Matthew 22:37 says, "Love the Lord your God with all of your heart, and with all of your soul, and with all of your mind." Loving the Lord looks like being your best with the right motives, motives that glorify God. Solomon once prayed to God, "Give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong" (1 Kings 3:9) - as the story goes, God granted wise Solomon this wish, and gave him a lot more than just what he asked for, making him the richest king in human history. Solomon doesn't ask God to give him the power to please the man in the tweed suit with a mind-blowing lesson plan, or to move up the corporate ladder. No, he asks that God will give him a discerning heart. Why? It glorifies God.  

For me, glorifying God is taking delight in each day as an opportunity to serve the students with incredible opportunities to learn and grow; glorifying God is using wisdom to distinguish between right and wrong so I can help the students know the difference too. It's not about the man in the tweed suit, gaining national notoriety, or making more money than needed to survive. When it becomes about my own advancement, it changes who I serve and glorify. My god becomes about me, my agenda, and making my needs the highest priority when I take my focus off of God and how to glorify him. This is what caused the downfall of Solomon. He took his eyes off of honoring God and instead focused on how his wealth, prosperity, and position could make him his own god. At some point, the tweed-suited man distracted Solomon from what initially crowned him king.

If you struggle with fixing your eyes on God and using your life to glorify him, it helps to identify the tweed-suit man in your life. Maybe you've got great intentions, but your motivation is wrong. For example, me putting together the right lesson plan that was flawless is a noble endeavor, but doing it to impress who I thought was the principal of another school was wrong. Or maybe, you're in the muddy part of life, deep in sin and rebellion and you desire to put to death those ugly habits that overshadow a life protected by the love of the Father. In the end, you're not glorifying God, but the flesh.

In either case, a good starting point is to recognize where you stepped away from God and what caused it, then allow God to train your heart and mind to turn to him rather than the motives of the flesh. As you dig deep into this heart change, don't forget to put on an attitude of gratitude, rejoicing in each day that the Lord has made. 

I try my best to make each day at school about the kids and glorifying God by how I teach them, but I'll admit, the tweed-suit man often comes through my heart and mind and likes to toy with it. Sometimes, he comes in the room in the form of my boss, and I begin to craft my lesson around pleasing her. Though I do tend to lose focus on the mission at hand: honoring God through the way I teach and love my students, I am grateful for the infinite opportunities to come back the following day stronger than the days leading up to it. 

Through God's grace, I can refocus my attention back on who I am here to serve:

My Lord Jesus Christ. 

At your service.

**"Christ: Our Model for Glorifying God" - https://www.dbu.edu/

Spiritual ADHD: Asking Dumb Questions, Forgetting God, and How to Stop Doing Both

Having worked over a decade at the same charter school, in the same grade (5th), with the same academic standards, and virtually the same 8-10 minute drive five days a week and 180 days a year, I have had my fair share of experiences with students I have taught in year's past come back to visit me in my classroom: three feet taller and hopefully a profusion of knowledge in that ever-growing brain of theirs. I have also experienced kids much younger than 5th grade, approach me at school practically yelling, "Mr. Fitz! My sister was in your class!" And while the confidence they have to approach me in such a manner is inspiring and their excitement to chat with me is flattering, I am not as hard on myself for forgetting who it is I am talking to compared to when it comes from a former student five years older and three feet taller.

After all, there was once a time when I taught them 30+ hours a week, 180 days out of the year. All that time, and the best I can do is think, Who are you and why do you look so familiar? My logic is, if I truly formed a solid bond with that student, I should know them by name no matter how many years passed. I should recall vivid memories, because my entire year was formed around molding that child academically, socially, and emotionally.

I'm not one to forgive myself quickly and easily, especially in the aspect of teacher-student relationships. I pride myself in my ability to connect with the students in a friendly, silly, encouraging way that reminds them they matter and are seen, heard, and most importantly, considered a valuable part of the classroom and the world. So when I forget, it feels like I never connected with them when they were in my classroom full time. Then I feel worse. I should know this student because I put my time and energy into loving them, I think to myself. 

Then I consider the disciples, who are just like me, and it becomes so much easier to forgive myself for these blunders.

Throughout the New Testament, there are numerous "I forgot" moments the disciples have in Jesus' presence: ones where Jesus must have been thinking, Have you gone mad? Are you deranged? Like a coach should have unswerving confidence in his players representing the team, I'm certain Jesus had a similar attitude towards his disciples. But sometimes you have to wonder why Jesus chose them in the first place.

Consider one example. Jesus revealed to the disciples the suffering, unforgivable torture, and eventual death he would endure after being arrested and placed in the hands of the chief priests. Peter staunchly replies that it will never happen to Jesus, no way no how. Anyone who had ever read this part of Matthew knows what happens next. Without hesitation, Jesus calls Peter, "Satan" and a "Stumbling Block" (Matthew 16:21-23). Can you imagine being the other 11 disciples in that moment? You could probably hear a rabbit munching on a carrot in the nearby garden of Gethsemane. Matthew probably whispered "No he didn't" to Phillip to cut through the awkward silence like a sharp knife.

"Glad I didn't share what I was thinking," one disciple. "Did he call him Satan?"

"Do you actually think Peter is Satan?" Another disciple.

"Suspend him without pay," a third disciples whispers.

"Bro. We're not getting paid," pause. "Wait, are you getting paid?"

"Someone give Petey a hug. He needs it." 

"He needs more than a hug...if you know what I mean."

"Andrew! You naughty dog!"

Regardless, Peter's famously bold statement that caused Jesus to call him Satan is not the only incident that would cause most to wonder what was going through the minds of the disciples, who gave up their old lives to spend every waking moment walking with Jesus and getting to know him. After all, if you were to invest all of that time, effort, and energy following Jesus' every footstep, listening to every word, and copying every behavior, you should be able to discern what to say and not to say during his most tense moments.

But this moment is not just a stand-alone. Peter acting a fool is not an abnormal incident where a disciple misspoke and expressed a thought that was misaligned with Jesus' mission - and it's not just Peter.

Enter Phillip, another one of Jesus' disciples, who had a whoopsie moment in front of Jesus. A "You've been with me all this time, and that's the best question you've got?" kind of moment. In fact, I'm pretty confident my translation isn't too far off from what was actually said.

In John 14, we see Jesus sitting with his disciples, talking to them and preparing them for the future - a future, mind you, without Jesus' physical presence. Fortunately, the disciples had already spent a lot of time with Jesus up until this point, so there would be no reason to believe what teachers in the school setting would try to avoid calling a "dumb question." But, as most, if not all teachers know, dumb questions do exist, and Phillip proves just that. 

He asks a dumb question.

I'll also happily admit that I tell kids the only dumb questions are ones that have already been answered less than 5 minutes prior. What's wild is that Jesus insinuates Phillip's question is profoundly dumb because Jesus spent his entire journey with the disciples answering the question Phil asks. Take a look:

"Phillip said, 'Lord, show us the father and that will be enough for us.'

Jesus answered, 'Don't you know me, Phillip (you know it's real when he calls him Phillip, not Phil), even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'?" (John 14:8-9).

There is so much unpacking we can do here, but to stay on point, this is exactly what Spiritual ADHD looks like, because Jesus essentially tells Phillip, "Where have you been?" Maybe Phil didn't forget - maybe he was just afraid of what a post-Jesus world would look like. Or maybe through fear, Phil forgot who Jesus is and what his mission was when he was on earth. Either way, Phil's woopsie moment goes down as one of the Hall of Fame "I Forgot" moments.

***

While it would be easy to lambaste Phil for asking such a disrespectful question, it would be even easier for Phil to criticize us for our lack of faith and understanding. After all, we're the ones living in an age where streets are abundant with churches we can freely worship in without condemnation and a prison sentence awaiting us. We're the generation that has WiFi access, Bible apps and Christian e-books just one click away. Don't care for digital books? Go to Amazon and have a physical book delivered to your door in less than one week. You are not frowned upon for loving God; in fact, enter any church and you likely find someone else who wants to walk the spiritual journey with you - and speaking of walking, you don't have to. You can drive, and if you can't, you can find someone who does. The point is, most people don't have restrictions to their faith the way the disciples did back then.

And we have "I forgot" moments like Phil did all the time. Even in a society where the Bible and Christ-inspired believers, pastors, and authors are right around the corner, on the internet, and within our friend groups just a text away, we still forget how mighty, loving, gracious, powerful, and wise God is. We forget that He is on our side, and He does not just have the answer...

He is the answer.

So, how do we avoid falling into these "I forgot" moments that so many of the disciples got swept up in?

1. Seek Christ with your entire being: "Those who seek Christ, shall find him," according to Matthew Henry Commentary on Luke 24, "he will manifest himself to those that inquire after him..." 

Since I have worked at EDUPRIZE for a while I have seen many faces - most of them I know because they spent approximately 180 days in my classroom. The students I see outside of the classroom are on the way to dropping my students off at specials (PE, Computers, Science, Music, etc.) or at lunch, when other younger grades are outside as well. Because I am not engaged with these younger grades on a daily basis, they know my name but I often don't know theirs when they shout mine. 

God's Word promises we will find Him when we look, and unlike my EDUPRIZE interactions with kids I do not know, he knows your name! When we abide in him and store our treasures up in Heaven, not on our earthly problems, he will manifest himself to us - what an incredible gift! 

2. Limit time spent "admiring the problem": Do not confuse this with 'considering' the problem. Yes, we do need to consider the problem, but as a means to an end. Problems should only garner attention in order to come up with adequate and appropriate solutions. When we're confronted with spiritual ADHD - lack of focus on our solution - we should spend more time developing solutions through God's wisdom rather than focusing only on the problem and its deadly ripple effects. As Kaye Otten and Jodie Tuttle says in their book How to Reach and Teach Children with Challenging Behaviors, "...we need to use [time] wisely, focusing more time on problem solving than problem admiring." Though Otten and Tuttle's book applies more to children and their misbehaviors in the classroom, we can easily apply this rule of thumb to how we approach our spiritual journey with God. 

From my own experience, sometimes I get so wrapped up in my problems, I fuse God to them and make myself believe that He takes delight in engineering my problems just to make me miserable. Out of uncontrollable anger and unrelenting negative emotion, I demand God do something in my favor, rather than trust Him that He is already doing something far greater in me than I can ever ask or imagine. In the end, I expend far more energy fighting against God rather than allowing his wisdom, guidance, providence, and everlasting love do the fighting for me. 

 If we are patient, slow down, and admire Him, we might find the solution faster than we can fully reflect on the problem.

3. Believe God is Smart Enough - "...What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived --- the things God has prepared for those who love him. These are things God has revealed to us by the Holy Spirit." Sounds too good to be true, right? It is, but it is also true - it's found in the Bible: 1 Corinthians 2:9-10. For context, Paul says even the rulers of the earth couldn't understand it. 

One evening, I met two friends of mine for coffee. The goal in meeting was to uplift one another through prayer, Biblical wisdom, and general anecdotes that relate to our prayer requests. 

One of these friends is the type of guy who has the gift of words. You know the type; their prayers are Hall of Fame conversations with God - fueled by intense emotion, commanding enunciation, and an exceptional string of vocabulary words that I would never think once to use in my prayers. You would think he rehearsed these prayers before showing up to our bi-monthly meetings. As we were nearing the end of our meeting, he shared that we need to "believe God is smart enough." On my 16-minute drive home, my friend's exhortative words rang loudest of all of the wisdom he shared.

Believe God is smart enough.

Even if you did use over 35% of our brain, any version of intelligence you can think of does not come close to what God has planned. But how often, when confronted by a problem, especially those enormous ones that don't seem to go away, do we only use ourselves and everyone else except God. Mostly, we get down on our knees by our bedside when we're at our wits end, down to our final straw, and spending our last $6. We don't use God and his infinite wisdom first. He is usually our last resort.

I am not comparing myself to God here, but it reminds me of when a child misbehaves because another student "made him do it." My typical response is, "Why didn't you come to me before it got worse? I could have helped you navigate through the problem without you getting into trouble!" Like any student who misbehaves in response to another student's behavior, we are always responsible for how we respond. If you agree that God is smarter than you and I, raise your hand. I'm sure you raised your hand as your staring at these words, because of course he is. But we don't. So often we don't.

We can approach the throne room of grace...and find grace to help us in times of need (Hebrews 4:16), or not go to God in the middle of trial. God lovingly gifts us with free will, so the bottom line is: Did you go to God? Or did we forget how intelligent and wise he is? 

***

Maybe you don't give God enough credit in your day because you only seek God when it's convenient, you admire the problem too much, you don't believe God is smart enough to solve your problems, or a combination of the three. Or maybe, "none of the above" is the reason you're forgetting that God made you, he loves you, and he knows you by name. 

Is Jesus asking you the same question? "Don't you know me...even after I have been among you such a long time?"

Your desire to pursue him does not weaken or strengthen his desire to pursue you. Unlike me not knowing the little ones' names when they say hello to me at school, God knows you and wants you to know your problems can be solved because He is smart enough. 

"If you seek Him, you will find Him." 

You will also find the answers you're looking for.