NORMA LOUISE BROWN

Saints Matthew and Mark, Barrington, R.I.

Monday, October 6, 2025

 

 

Saturday was Saint Francis’ Day. At 11 am, we held a Blessing of the Animals outside in the parking lot. Although only a few people attended with their pets, it felt good to gather there in honor of the Poor One of Assisi. That’s his statue back there in the corner. 

 

Two of the hymns we chose for today’s Requiem for Norma Brown are attributed to Saint Francis: “All creatures of our God and King,” an English paraphrase of Francis’ Canticle of the Sun; and after Communion, the so-called Prayer of Saint Francis, “Make me a Channel of your Peace.” Norma requested this one at her funeral. Francis did not actually write the text, which dates back only to 1912, but it was written with the intention of expressing the Franciscan ethos, which I think it does very well indeed.

 

Why am I talking about Saint Francis? Because, in many ways, Norma Brown’s life embodied the spirit of Saint Francis. Like Francis, she loved animals. She loved the outdoors: hiking in the mountains or walking on the beach. Norma was one of those people who encounter God in the beauty of creation.

 

And like Francis, Norma cared deeply about other people. She had a difficult childhood with a rough home life. But she did not grow up to be bitter or angry. Instead, she was deeply compassionate, sociable, and a friend to everybody. She was not a counselor, therapist, or social worker, but she had an intuitive ability to discern and diagnose other people’s problems, and say a kind word to help lighten their load.

 

My own first encounter with Norma took place a few weeks after I arrived here at Saints Matthew and Mark. About five minutes before the Sunday service began, she came into my office and informed me that another parishioner, a friend of hers, was in Miriam Hospital. That’s the kind of person Norma was: always reaching out in concern for others. And because she spoke to me, I was able to make the first of several visits to her friend that very afternoon.

 

One way in which Norma perhaps did not resemble Saint Francis was in her love for books. (Francis thought books were a temptation to pride and tried unsuccessfully to prevent his friars from keeping or owning books.) But Norma had hundreds of books and loved to read them. She was well-educated, having attended Michigan State University and having earned two master’s degrees, one in Education and one in Music. She regularly attended book signings at some of our local bookstores to hear the authors speak and get their autographs on her copies of their books. 

 

The more I think about my recollections of Norma, the more the word that springs into my mind is “Joy.” She radiated joy. I could always sense it as she approached the lectern to read one of the lessons in the Sunday morning Eucharist.

 

Saint Francis taught that perfect joy comes from embracing God’s will for one’s life in fellowship with the sufferings of Christ. And perhaps that was the key to the joy that Norma shone forth in her life. 

 

Joy in this life is a foretaste of heaven. Now Norma continues her journey into the fullness of God’s glory. So, we give thanks for the many gifts she shared with us during her life in this world. And we pray for her immortal soul, that God, having forgiven her and purged away her sins, will bring her to perfection in the company of the saints in light. 

 

We also call to mind the shortness and uncertainty of our own lives, praying that God will bring us to our final destination, where we will be reunited with Norma, and all those whom we love but see no longer.