‘We have seen a great light’ because Father Norman lived and ministered among us. | Opinion

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light and upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.” (Isaiah 9: 1-2)

One of the LGBTQ+ students at Lexington Catholic High School wrote, “I spent every morning of my freshman and sophomore years as a lonely high schooler at LIFT with Father Norman. I [felt] I always had a friend in [him] and got a fist bump from this guy. God bless him; he blessed us, and I will miss him.”

I met Norman Fischer when he was a seminarian and I was working in the Diocese of Palm Beach raising funds in that affluent diocese, and supplies, too, for the Diocese of Lexington Mission Office and mission parishes. The bishop at that time told me he wanted me to meet a seminarian and that seminarian was Norman. I recall what the bishop said, “You will love him; he is bright and artsy, musically inclined, he has a contagious love for Jesus.”

I assume he wanted me to meet Norman because I needed to see what a contagious love of Jesus looked like. And I did. I met him on a mission trip to Stanton, KY. The bishop was spot-on, I met a young man aflame with the Spirit, possibly the most dynamic Catholic young man I ever met at that time. I wanted what Norman had. How did he get that effervescent joy in the Gospel, in the Lord? I knew he would be a great presbyter and witness to the Gospel, but I never dreamed that the impact he made upon me would be a drop in the bucket considering the impact he had on too many souls to count.

Decades later when I was experiencing particularly difficult years establishing LGBTQ+ Ministry in the Catholic Diocese of Lexington, I sought out Fr. Norman’s counsel. I met with him at St. Peter Claver and he gave me some advice, convincing me that God was calling me to this ministry, dispelling my doubts and darkness. He prayed with me and blessed me in many ways during that meeting.

A few years ago, when I was asking priests to sign a statement in support of LGBTQ+ Youth, I knew I’d encounter some pushback. Fr. Norman supported my effort and asked me to believe in his brother priests’ goodness even if they didn’t want to sign the document. Many signed the document, over fifty percent of the Lexington Presbyterate. Fr. Norman sent me an email, “I believe in you and thank you for believing in us!”

We had our share of differences of opinions. Despite them, I know Fr. Norman loved me and his brand of love was beyond human, it was divine love. Differences be damned.

A trans student who found days very difficult, sometimes nearly unbearable, took my advice and asked to speak with Fr. Norman. That student told me, “I finally felt like my personal darkness faded with the light that Fr. Norm brought me.”

And didn’t we all?

Sure, his smile was the best, his song was always uplifting, his application of the Gospel was always on-target, laser-like in every situation, and his tireless self-emptying in service to anyone and everyone was exhausting to watch while being an unmatched example for us to follow.

And so, students, civic leaders, Catholic leaders, parishioners, citizens, and all kinds of diverse populations mourn today because of Fr. Norman’s untimely passing. Rightly so. We mourn for ourselves. It is an epic loss.

Fr. Norman blurred the lines between heaven and earth in his ministry and life. He walked this earth canonizing us – calling out our sanctity and holiness when we doubted it or couldn’t see it. He did it daily, everywhere. I’m not one of those people who think we should canonize Fr. Norman just because he has passed from this life. But one of the definitions of canonize is “to treat as sacred.” I think we all recognized The Sacred in Norman Fisher’s life and ministry and so we treat his memory as sacred. If that is canonization, I am all for it.

Blurring those lines between heaven and earth which he did so masterfully, Fr. Norman made me squint a little harder to see holiness all around me, and when I squinted, I saw God’s face in Norman’s. For Fr. Norman, the incarnation was not an abstraction, it was a lived reality: heaven was here, and God was us. I’m not sure if he ever realized how clearly we saw God in him. I suspect he does now.

We each have seen a great light because Norman Fischer lived and ministered among us. When darkness and gloom threaten us and we are tempted to ask where God is, let’s squint a little harder and remember Fr. Norman’s words, “God is good, all the time. And all the time, God is good.” And so are we. He taught us that.

Stan “JR” Zerkowski is director of the Catholic LGBTQ+ Ministry for Diocese of Lexington and executive director of Fortunate Families.