With grace there is no need for magic tricks
“Everything you have is a gift of God, and a talent committed to your charge. Even your good works are not own, because without God’s grace you can do nothing. Only our sins are quite your own and your own work. Do not therefore boast of your understanding, memory, etc., but be humble and remember that you will one day have to give an account of them . . . Make a resolution not to say one word today in your own praise.” — Bishop Frederick Justus Knecht, 1923
My father was fond of magic tricks. The bottom drawer of his dresser held a small stash of magic paraphernalia collected over the years. He delighted in bewildering my cousins and me with his well-practiced maneuvers: 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. We would “ooh” and “ahh” and be amazed at his giftedness. He would shine with a self-satisfied smile.
But as we got older and pestered him for the truth, he revealed the tricks to us one by one.
“It’s all sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors,” he said. “Watch closely. Pay attention and don’t allow yourself to get distracted by what I say or do.”
In retrospect, the lesson revealed more than the secret to a few magic tricks. It honed an awareness of the human tendency, usually born of some insecurity, to rely on “smoke and mirrors.”
The lesson was re-enforced early on when, in college, I was asked to fill in for the piano player during the production of Cabaret — 24 hours before opening night! I don’t know what possessed me to agree. Maybe it was the director’s tearful begging.
But my skill level certainly wasn’t up to the challenge, especially without having seen the music before that day. My deficiencies became obvious when I actually started to play.
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.”
The image of my father performing one of his magic tricks came to mind.
The director smiled, obviously happy just to have someone sitting on the stool, but my father’s words came back to me: “It’s sleight of hand. It’s not genuine.” 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 and lots of applause. As I made my escape out the back door as quickly as possible, someone patted me on the back saying, “Great job!”
I thought either they were being kind or had left their ears at home.
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.
But when we find the courage for self-reflection, the courage to be honest with ourselves and with each other about our true selves, we may discover valuable insights for personal and spiritual growth as disciples of Christ.
Mary has been that fount of courage for me.
Imagine being greeted by an angel of the Lord, announcing that you have been chosen — by God — to bear the redeemer of the world! Certainly, this could have been reason for Mary to boast, a reason far surpassing any reason we may find to glory in our own work. But Mary remained genuinely humble, always the servant of God and humanity.
In the words of Bishop Knecht, who aptly referred to the annunciation as “something stupendous,” Mary “was troubled by the angel’s respectful manner of salutation, and, in spite of all he had said, she still called herself the handmaid of the Lord. ‘God resisteth the proud and giveth grace to the humble.’ (Jas 4, 6)”
What better model than Mary, full of grace?
