The unexpected passing of Fr Norman Fischer on July 14, 2024, came as a shock to all who knew him. It seemed so unlikely—and so unfair—that one who was so full of life could be gone so soon. He was fast friends with everyone he met and had the gift of making each person feel like they were the most special person in the world. How he did this with every person, and without being disingenuous, only the Lord knows.
The “Fr Norman Effect,” if you will, was tangibly witnessed as people flooded into Lexington for his funeral services this past weekend. The visitation was held at his longtime pastorate, St. Peter Claver Catholic Church. The funeral Mass was celebrated by Bishop John Stowe, OFM Conv. on Monday at the Cathedral of Christ the King.
The family of Fr Norman, as well as parishioners, students, brother priests, friends, coworkers, and more, showed up to share in the grief of loss and the gratitude of having known him. Those who were not able to be physically present were able to join in spirit via livestream.
A sentiment shared among all attendees of the homegoing celebration was how beautiful the entire liturgy was. Beginning with the African drumming during the procession, the reading and songs in Spanish, Swahili singing and dancing for the presentation of the gifts, songs sung in Tagalog, and Black spirituals throughout the Mass, the liturgy demonstrated the transcendent power of multiculturalism that Fr Norman embodied in his life and ministry. One might even call it a rarely-experienced truly “catholic” Mass. The seemingly seamless incorporation of multiple cultures into the liturgy, also known as inculturation, was reminiscent of what we are to look forward to in heaven:
“I had a vision of a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue. They stood before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands.”
(Revelation 7:9)
It was fitting that even in his death, Fr Norman pointed us to the kingdom that is to come.
“And before I’d be a slave, I’d be buried in my grave, and go home to my Lord and be free,” sang the homilist Fr Tony Ricard, as he sat on the steps of the altar near Fischer’s casket. In what must have seemed like an almost impossible task of summing up Fischer's life and impact, Ricard managed to strike the perfect balance of comedy, comfort, and charism—as he is known to do.
He shared how Fischer was proud to be Black and Filipino, about how his biracial identity upset some, and how Fischer could have walked away from his calling because of the treatment he received. Yet nothing could prevent Fischer from giving himself completely, because he loved God and knew God loved him.
“All that Fr Norman did was bring his loaves and fish to the table, and he let Jesus do the rest,” Ricard explained.
He spoke of his infectious and ever-present joy, which found its source in Christ Jesus. Ricard went on to share more about this “just,” “wise,” and “faithful” servant of God. It’s worth a listen, whether you knew Fischer or not, simply because of the witness that his life and death was and is.
Ricard wrapped up his homily in characteristically Fischer-esque fashion—with a selfie. In his words and preaching, Ricard seemed to capture the joy, truth, and love that Fischer exuded.
The burial rite featured more African-American spirituals and songs sung by two young men, one of whom flew in all the way from Kenya to be present for the homegoing.
During the service, as Bishop Stowe made remarks, there was a moment when the skies opened up and rain began to pour. The weather had the mystical ability to both manifest the sorrow of the moment, but also initiate an opportunity of communion—inviting strangers to come near to each other as neighbors huddled under shared umbrellas.
As I looked around and saw Black and White, Filipino and Latino individuals and families drawing close to one another under the shelter of umbrellas, and as I offered my own umbrella to a White teenage boy and older White woman whom I did not know, I could not help but be struck once again by the sacredness of unity in diversity. And I wondered if Fr Norman himself was the one who had turned the water on upstairs.
The services concluded with a reception featuring a feast that Fr Norman would also be very proud of—including pancit (a Filipino dish), tamales, mac and cheese, shrimp and grits, and all sorts of desserts. Loved ones got to exchange stories about how they knew Fr Norman, how he made them feel special, and how special he was.
As was only fitting, the celebration of life concluded with dancing, and specifically, the electric slide! In the words of one attendee, “We started at a funeral and ended at a wedding,” which indeed felt fitting. There was a marrying of sorrow and joy, of things temporal and spiritual, of cultures and community. It was everything I imagine Fr Norman would have wanted it to be.
I leave us with this reminder: As Christians, we have a faith that precludes us from mourning as those who are without hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18). This was not a “Goodbye” to Fr Norman, but a “See you later.” He has joined the cloud of witnesses, the Ancestors whom he spoke about with such admiration when we were together with him at the Institute for Black Catholic Studies in New Orleans just a few short weeks ago.
Now we take up his mantle—of joy, love, multiculturalism, wisdom, catholicity, faithfulness, embodiment, light, and laughter. Take your pick. And trust that the same Spirit that animated Fr Norman is the same Spirit that we each have access to today.
If you want to know
where I'm going,
where I'm going soon...
If anybody asked you
where I'm going,
where I'm going soon...
I'm goin' up yonder.
I'm goin' up yonder.
I'm goin' up yonder
to be with my Lord.
Ali Mumbach is a Houston, Texas, native in graduate school at Howard University, studying to get her master’s degree in sociology, as well as using summers to earn her master’s in theology from the Institute for Black Catholic Studies at Xavier University of Louisiana. She is the graduate assistant for the HU Bison Catholic campus ministry.
