One of the best pieces of advice that I’ve come across is in Sarah Miles’ memoir, Take This Bread. Like many young adults who went to New York City in search of adventure, Miles wound up working in the restaurant business. The New York restaurant she landed in was ruled by a gritty short-order cook named Robert, whose mantle of knowledge and experience guided her every step.

 

On one of the busiest, hottest days of the summer, when they needed to prepare and serve over two hundred lunches in a forty-seat restaurant, she found Robert sitting on a milk crate drinking iced-tea. As she frantically raced back and forth past him, he gestured for her to sit down. He’s lost his mind, she thought, but she sat down anyway. “You got to slow down to speed up, doll,” he said. “Remember that: when it’s busy, slow down.”

 

As the pace of my life as your bishop accelerates, I think of Robert’s rule: when it’s busy, slow down. I know that I want to do more than is humanly possible in these first days and weeks. I’m tempted to drive too fast, schedule too many appointments, and make decisions right away. But if I do, the chances of them being wise decisions are diminished.

 

Why don’t we slow down together? We can take some time in these early days to listen for the voice of Christ in and through and among us. The Rt. Rev. Jay Magness, bishop suffragan for federal ministries, suggests that I begin by listening, and there is nothing I’d rather do than pray with you, share meals and conversations, and hear your stories and insights. I intend to work collaboratively, building on the good work of listening begun in the search and transition process that brought us to this day.

 

In Paul's letter to the Philippians, he prays that the one who has begun a good work in us will see it through to completion. I believe that with all my heart, and I know you that do, too. So the plan for now is to slow down long enough to listen to one another and to God.