Ordinary Time

Cyril and Islam

Written by: Sister Pamela Smith, SS.C.M.
February 29, 2008

Mohammed had been dead a mere 220 years, and Islam was still a relatively new religion, when St. Cyril (still known as Constantine) was sent on a mission to the Saracens and, shortly thereafter, to the Khazars. In both cases, his mission was evangelization, but he was also on missions of diplomacy.
     The first mission found him defending the Christian understanding of the Trinity and confronting accusations that Christians were devil worshippers. While Constantine did not, as far as we know, win converts, he did succeed in impressing the Saracens with his learning, his ease at clarifying Christian beliefs, and his ready response to challenges. In the case of his mission to the Khazars, he did succeed in convincing a people who were torn among commitments to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam that Christians should be permitted the free practice of their faith. He had convinced the Khan of the region that beliefs in the Trinity and the Incarnation of Christ ought not to be thought of as blasphemy against the One God and also that Christian moral principles were honorable and good.
     There are several parts of these stories of the man who was to be our St. Cyril which remain timely. One is that he used patient discussion and dialogue to help others to understand not only some basic teachings of the faith but also the thinking which underlies those teachings. A second point is that he was not afraid to use worldly knowledge—from the arts and philosophy and politics—to engage spiritual topics. A third point is that St. Cyril was willing to go more than halfway. He traveled to where people were, met them on their own “turf,” and arrived with a willingness to understand and to learn in situations that were initially “foreign” to him.
     His example is key for our personal relationships, our social contacts, and also any ecumenical and interreligious connections we might make. St. Cyril teaches us: 1) to listen and to respond with depth; 2) to tap our knowledge and experience; and 3) to extend ourselves way beyond where we might prefer to go. His style of interacting with others can help us simply to get along in our increasingly diverse neighborhoods and also to come at today’s complicated religious and political questions (especially related to the Mideast and to Muslims in America) with confidence and openness.

Questions for Personal Reflection:
How have I extended myself to understand the thought patterns and beliefs of others? Am I stuck in a mindset (and the same old comfortable place), or am I open to new experiences, new places, and new insights? Am I willing to be sent outside my comfort zone, as St. Cyril was?

Cyril's Dream

Written by: Sister Pamela Smith, SS.C.M.
February 1, 2008

Image of SS Cyril and Methodius Saint Francis of Assisi, as many throughout the world know, had a dream-vision calling him to “rebuild God’s church.” He also had a well-known commitment to Lady Poverty, a commitment he lived out in simplicity and his concern for the most forsaken. Fewer know about the dream and commitment of the young Constantine of Thessalonica, who was to become Saint Cyril. In his early years, he was drawn to the life and adventures of the apostle Paul. He also had a dream which beckoned him. In the dream he was present in a court, surrounded by the most eligible and most beautiful women of his city. It was clear that he had to make a choice, and he chose the one who drew him most, a glorious one named Sophia. In his earlier years, his “engagement” to Sophia meant a scholarly life for Constantine. He became especially proficient in the study of philosophy and theology. With a world of learning behind him, he became not only a philosopher but also a teacher in the imperial court. His commitment to Sophia, Lady Wisdom, seemed to mean that he would spend his life in something of an academic ivory tower, with the splendors of wealth and learning at hand. It also seemed that he would spend much of his life in the solitude of the scholar. The man who was to become Saint Cyril learned, in time, that following one’s dreams can take curious and unexpected turns. From the relative comfort of courtly life, he was drawn into the world of mission—and, with it, the challenge of new customs and cultures, life on foot and on horseback, and the almost inevitable clash between what has been and what’s new. Lady Sophia, holy Wisdom, became for him a life of prayer and evangelization. The face of his dream changed, too. The jeweled, well-dressed Sophia of his youth turned, as he edged through his thirties and into his forties, into first one and then another face: the face of a young Slavic girl, a peasant mother, an old baba. Lady Wisdom became not the spirit of study and hours over texts but instead the spirit of hunger for holiness in people who lacked an alphabet. The wisdom of philosophers and Fathers and desert abbas and ammas turned out to be, for Cyril, also the wisdom one might find in the hearts and souls of women who had spent their lives over stitchery and cooking pots. Dreams, when they are from God, may unfold for decades. And, as they did for Francis and Cyril, the faces in dreams may come closer and closer to the faces one might meet in any town, in any small neighborhood, on any street.

Reflection: Do I have a life-dream that inspires and fires me? How has it unfolded and changed with time?