The White Pebbles

NEARLY every adult worldwide has voted on some issues or in electing individuals to office. Whether the vote was cast during the meeting of a club or a council, in a voting booth or by written ballot, the vote can be critical, determining the course of history for that club, council, tribe, religion, state, or nation. Most questions are decided by a simple majority vote or a certain percentage of votes. In 2015 in the state of Ohio, USA, fourteen races for office resulted in either a tie or a single-vote margin, according to the Record-Courier newspaper. Unanimous votes are almost unheard of, yet, in 1789, and again in 1792, General George Washington was unanimously voted in as President of the United States. These two elections were the only unanimous votes for President in United States history.

When Father Fernando de Bulhoes (the future St. Anthony of Padua) wanted to leave the Augustinian Order to join the Poor Brothers who followed Francis of Assisi, he was facing an impossible situation. In order to transfer, he needed to obtain the unanimous vote of all his Augustinian brothers at Santa Cruz Monastery in Coimbra, Portugal. Let’s imagine the consternation which must have followed his request.

A chubby monk

In the courtyard of the monastery of Santa Cruz, Father Mateus sat in his favorite spot, off to the side under one of the tall pines around the courtyard’s perimeter. From here, he could watch the other monks as they chatted, strolled, and prayed. Ever conscious of his gangly gait and oversized feet, Mateus preferred solitude to mingling. Then God alone was his companion, and he never had to worry about impressing Him. God had made Mateus, and, in God’s eyes, even if not in men’s, Mateus’ body glorified God’s perfection. Mateus knew this, even though his poor, distant village thought otherwise.

Generally, the other monks left Mateus to his solitude. So why was Father Fernando strolling in his direction? Mateus had watched Fernando meandering from monk to monk, speaking briefly with them individually or in clusters and moving on. Was he sharing a humorous anecdote? A spiritual insight? Or simply being friendly?

Wise or foolish?

“Father Mateus,” Fernando called as he approached. “May I ask you something?”

Father Fernando had been one of Mateus’ classmates and always at the head of the class. Mateus asked him questions. What could Fernando possibly want to ask Mateus?

“Do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course not,” Mateus said.

“Mateus, you think and pray a good deal. Did you ever feel that God was asking you to do something others would think foolish?”

That was an easy question. “Oh, for sure. When I wanted to enter the monastery.”

Fernando laughed. “You, too? Like a lot of us, I suspect.”

Mateus smiled. No wonder everyone loved Fernando. He was so easy going.

“Well, Mateus, I’d like to ask you to vote for something that may seem foolish.”

Mateus stiffened.

“I’ve asked the Poor Brothers to accept me into their Order. Everyone here has to agree that I can go.”

“Don’t you like us anymore?”

Fernando grinned. “I love you all. You’re my brothers! But in my prayers, I seem to hear God calling me to go to Morocco to preach. We don’t do that here. But the Poor Brothers will send me.”

Fernando paused while Mateus absorbed his request. “Will you pray about your vote on that? And will you follow whatever the Lord tells you to do? Because I better not go if it’s only my idea.”

Mateus nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll pray about it.”

Fernando stood and bowed to Mateus. “Thank you, Father Mateus. Now I must ask some others. Please excuse me.”

Mateus nodded his assent.

Gone crazy?

Fernando strode away to where Brother Pedro and Father Lucas were chatting near the fountain.

How was Mateus supposed to keep sitting here, contemplating the sky through the pine branches, when this question was rumbling through his brain? Compelled to move, he began to pace the courtyard, catching snippets of conversation from his fellows.

“Morocco? Sure, he’s a good preacher…”

“Does he think he’s good enough to convert the Muslims?”

“… probably knows they kill Christians…”

“Don’t martyrs go straight to heaven?”

“Fernando has a big head. Thinks he wants to become a saint.”

“If he wants to leave, why should we keep him here?”

“All those years of education and money put into him…”

“Those Poor Brothers have nothing…”

“Do you think he’s gone crazy…”

A large room

Mateus paced and paced. Then rang the bell for prayer, the evening meal, silence, compline, sleep. Sleep was fitful. He dreamed of Fernando preaching in the elaborate monastery pulpit in the middle of a desert surrounded by leopards who leaped as one on him. Mateus shrieked and awoke.

At daybreak after Matins, the Prior announced a house chapter to be held that afternoon before Vespers: “The meeting is to vote on Father Fernando’s request to join the Poor Brothers at Olivares.”

The chapter took place in the large meeting room with chairs lining the walls hung with tapestries of Old Testament tales. From his chair under the tapestry of Moses amid the bulrushes, Mateus scanned the room. He saw every monk present. Except Fernando.

Master João walked to each monk, handing him something. Into Mateus’ palm, João dropped two pebbles, one black and one white. When his task was completed, he returned to the Prior, who solemnly declared, “Father Fernando has requested leave to join the Poor Brothers. If you agree, place a white stone in the clay jug. If you disagree, select a black stone.”

Master João intoned a prayer: “Come, Holy Spirit, and make Your Will known…”

What to vote? Mateus wondered. He had prayed and prayed. But he was not sure. He heard pebbles dropping into the mouth of the red clay jug. What color were they? If God wants this of him, who am I to say no? When the jug came to him, Mateus dropped in the white pebble.

Quickly the jug made its way back to the Prior, who nodded to Master João. João left the room and momentarily returned with Fernando. The Prior motioned to Fernando to stand with him and Master João behind a table at the head of the meeting room. In silence, the Prior nodded again to João, who emptied the pebbles onto the table. With plinks and plunks, they spilled out.

Every single pebble was white.

The monks looked at one another and at Fernando. João’s cheeks glistened with tears. So did Fernando’s. Mateus saw the same sheen on several faces.

João put his two hands on Fernando’s shoulders. Both the older man’s arms and voice trembled. “Go, then, and become a saint.”

Fernando’s voice was just as tremulous. “Oh, Master, when you hear of that, then you will praise God.”

Meditation

The unanimous vote of the Augustinian monks forever changed the life of Fernando de Bulhoes. It also transformed the history of the Catholic Church. Have you ever voted? Do you give much thought or prayer to your vote? Do you feel that your vote is important? Have you ever experienced a situation where a few votes mattered a great deal? Can you think of an election that changed the course of history? How can you encourage others to vote?