April 21, 2021
by Mary Clifford Morrell
“It’s all sleight of hand, smoke, and mirrors,” my father revealed to his young audience, meaning me and my cousins, having finally given in to our pestering about his magic tricks— the brightly colored scarves pulled deftly from the palm of his hand, the three solid metals rings miraculously joined together with a wave of his hand, the nickel that transformed into a quarter before our eyes.
He advised us to pay attention to his hands and not be distracted by what he said and did during the trick. I have no doubt that he shared this closely guarded information with us not because it would allow us to also do magic tricks but to hone awareness of the human tendency, usually born of some insecurity, to rely on “smoke and mirrors” to reach a goal.
The lesson was soon reinforced for me when I found myself filling in for the piano player in a college production of Cabaret—24 hours before the curtain went up. I was only a mediocre pianist at best and had never played the score before. I must have agreed to play because of the director’s tearful begging, but I couldn’t imagine this would turn out well.
At our first rehearsal with me at the bench, my deficiencies became obvious. I apologized profusely. To my surprise, the director replied, “Don’t worry about it. Just play faster, like you really know the score. You’ll be amazed at how good it will sound. Most people don’t pay that much attention to what’s really being played anyway. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”
I knew what that meant. It’s not genuine but you will fool people. I had a queasy feeling in my stomach.
The show went on. The lead was fantastic, the costumes were flashy. I played fast and loud. We finished to a standing ovation. As I made my escape out the back door as quickly as possible, someone patted me on the back saying, “Great job!”
I smiled but somehow that accolade made me feel worse. It’s always a humbling experience to reflect on those times when we have resorted to smoke and mirrors; when we have failed to be genuinely who we are.
When we find the courage for introspection, the courage to be honest with ourselves about our strengths and weaknesses, our motives, and our beliefs, we may discover valuable insights for personal and spiritual growth as disciples of Christ.
Spanish Jesuit Baltasar Gracián shared this insight in the 1600s, writing, “Self-refection is the school of wisdom.”
It is also the school of spiritual growth, something we all commit to doing at our Baptism. As one Christian counselor describes it, “Intentional self-reflection is aimed at creating space for you to sit with God and ask meaningful questions about life and your relationship with him.”
I have found that when I ask God the hard questions, I often get back the hard answers. Transformation also takes courage.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.