Not all that long ago our parish held its annual picnic, which is always a wonderful event, but certainly involves a great deal of preparation. It takes several weeks to set up the grounds, coordinate the liturgy, arrange for volunteers and, of course, provide food for more than 700 people. In fact, the preparations dwarf the actual event. The buffet is decimated by ravenous vultures in a matter of minutes; the games that we carefully planned and constructed are quickly strewn across the lawn; even the beautiful checkered tablecloths are soon mired in ketchup, mustard and relish. It can seem as though it is not worth it to undertake such an endeavor. It reminds me of my grandfather’s complaint about Thanksgiving when I was growing up: “It takes a whole day to cook this meal, and it is gone by the time we say grace. We should just get pizza.”

I am not sure about Thanksgiving pizza, but I do understand the sentiment with regard to preparation. We can be tempted to wonder if hard work matters when the bare minimum seems to get the job done. My youngest godchild gave a wonderful example of this when she was instructed to clean her room by her mother. There were clothes, toys, games and stuffed animals everywhere, but within a matter of two hours, everything was tidy. “How did you do that?” I asked her. “Well,” she replied, “let’s just thank God my mother did not lift the bed skirt!” That was pretty ingenious if you ask me (I think she has a bright career in politics ahead), but ultimately it does not work well. She was later punished and forced to clean several other rooms, too.

Jesus certainly tried to prepare his disciples for a life of ministry and warned that preparation — or the lack of it — has eternal consequences: “You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come” (Lk 12:40). That does not mean that we should prepare out of fear, nor should we simply look busy because Jesus is coming. Instead, it means that the right preparation sets us up to know God’s love in a profound way.

Pope Leo XIV has often commented on the need for preparation. In a Wednesday audience in August, he instructed about the need for preparation in a life of faith. “To prepare to celebrate this thanksgiving does not mean doing more, but leaving room,” he said. “It means removing what encumbers us, reducing our demands and ceasing to hold unrealistic expectations. Indeed, too often we confuse preparations with illusions. Illusions distract us; preparations guide us. Illusions seek a result; preparations make an encounter possible. True love, the Gospel reminds us, is given before it is reciprocated” (Aug. 6, 2025). We are only able to receive love if we are open to it, and we can only be open to it if we prepare for it by the way we live our lives.

It is easy for all of us to be distracted by illusions and results. At times, I think many pastors are forced to operate more like CEOs than shepherds. We may get so distracted by the day-to-day operations of the parish and its functioning that we forget about saving souls. “I cannot save souls right now,” an older pastor once told me, tongue in cheek. “I have to make my parish assessment!” However, if we prepare ourselves spiritually and with a lens toward doing God’s will, other things will fall into place.

It is said that Pope Francis, in the conclave that elected him, offered a cogent, moving reflection upon what the Church needed in a leader. When he was asked for a copy of his text, he had none. Instead, he spoke from the heart, from a place of deep communion with the Lord. He prepared for that moment with years of prayer, reflection, study and contemplation. We, too, have to offer a similar preparation, for we can only build a future of hope if we know Christ intimately.

Preparation demands that we all take a hard look at ourselves. It involves sacrifice, offering, hard work and discipline. But it is worth it, even if it gets gobbled up in a matter of minutes. 

FATHER MICHAEL ACKERMAN is the pastor at Resurrection Parish, Bethel Park, Pennsylvania, and chaplain at Seton LaSalle Catholic High School in Pittsburgh.