Called from afar to ministry

After letting go of her Catholic upbringing, the Rev. Nora Fitzpatrick has settled in as pastor of the 250-member First Parish Church of Berlin. (Mark Wilson/Globe Staff)

Nora Fitzpatrick seems an unlikely candidate for the ministry.

"Raised Catholic in a family that is still quite active in its practice and coming out as lesbian might have sent her running away from anything church-like," said Justine Sullivan, a friend of Fitzpatrick.

But Fitzpatrick found her way to the United Church of Christ, said Sullivan, and, despite struggling with dyslexia, earned a master's of divinity.

For nearly a year she has been the minister at the First Parish Church of Berlin, which is affiliated with both the United Church of Christ and the Unitarian Universalist Association. The 250-member congregation has welcomed gay and lesbian members but she is its first openly gay minister.

"Perhaps as an indicator of how far we have come as a community that is welcoming of all who come to us, the issue of Nora's sexual orientation has never been an issue of concern, or even much interest," said Sullivan, who is president of the First Parish Church Unitarian Universalist congregation in Northborough and has attended services at the Berlin church.

Fitzpatrick's journey to the ministry is an open book. It is one that she's willing to read out loud in hope that it will bring confidence to those who question themselves, or encouragement for others to follow their dreams no matter how long that may take. For Fitzpatrick, 45, more than a decade passed before she returned to finish college.

"I talk about my dyslexia and the fact that I returned to school a number of times," said the Berlin resident. "I'm open to different understandings of faith, and I question everything."

Fitzpatrick said between the ages of 17 and 30 she let go much of what the Catholic Church had taught her, but as the years went by she reexamined the Christian dogma, studied, and learned.

"I'm open to different theories, and have been called to two rather progressive churches," said Fitzpatrick, who started her ministry at a United Church of Christ congregation in Ypsilanti, Mich. "It doesn't mean that everyone believes what I do, but I respect that."

Fitzpatrick's entry to the ministry took a circuitous route. It began at the Villa Victoria Academy, a Catholic school for girls in Trenton, N.J., that Fitzpatrick said was wonderful, but 35 years ago wasn't equipped to decipher and work with students who had learning disabilities.

"I didn't know that I was dyslexic until I was an adult, and wasn't tested until I was attending the seminary," she said.

Because of her dyslexia, Fitzpatrick said, she was a very slow reader and had a horrific time with memorization: "In high school I'd take a biology test and know all of the answers, but wouldn't spell them correctly so they'd be marked wrong." She also struggled with foreign languages, failing French one year and Italian the next. Although a foreign language was required for graduation, the principal told her that she was exempt.

"At some point they either thought that I wasn't smart enough, which is what I heard, or that there was a problem that they weren't able to address," said Fitzpatrick. One summer she worked at a McDonald's restaurant and struggled making change for customers.

"I would give back $4.39 instead of $3.94," recalled Fitzpatrick. "Again, that made me feel stupid as a young girl." All of these negative messages, she said, continued for years.

After a less-than-stellar high school experience she went to East Stroudsburg University in Pennsylvania, but dropped out after three years and took a job in a day-care center's baby room. Her job for the next two years was rocking infants, which she found to be incredibly healing. From there she helped teach the preschool/kindergarten class, and after seven years she left to work with emotionally disturbed teens in a Trenton charter school.

"They were rough kids who scared me," Fitzpatrick admitted. "One boy had beaten his pregnant girlfriend with a bat, and on another occasion killed ducks in a park."

She also worked in the Princeton school system as special education aide.

After a 12-year absence from organized religion, Fitzpatrick said, she felt a need to reconnect and began attending a Methodist church outside of Princeton.

"I thought I'd try to for one month and see how it felt," said Fitzpatrick. Then one Sunday morning after taking Communion, Fitzpatrick said, she became so overwhelmed with emotion that she began to cry. "It was this feeling of finding God," Fitzpatrick said. A few days later a friend suggested this might be a good time to evaluate her life.

"When I told her that I was considering becoming a therapist . . . she asked if I'd ever thought about becoming a minister," said Fitzpatrick. "I literally laughed out loud and said, 'You have to be kidding.' "

For the next year, the question appeared in her head daily, she said. And at the age of 32 she began her track into the ministry. The first step was to complete her undergraduate degree; in 1993 she enrolled in community college and then transferred to Ryder University.

"I enjoyed learning for the first time in my life," said Fitzpatrick. In 1999 she was accepted to Union Theological Seminary in New York City.

"I was told that there were 'out' lesbians who had graduated three and four years earlier who still hadn't found a job, and that this could prove to be a very difficult endeavor," said Fitzpatrick. But within six months of graduation she was called to the First Congregational UCC in Ypsilanti.

Margaret Harner, program director of the Student Advocacy Center of Michigan, remembers Fitzpatrick as a powerful preacher with a commitment to justice and peace, and to challenging the status quo when it's misusing power or creating misery for those less fortunate. She recalls Fitzpatrick's commitment to a family from Guinea, West Africa.

The mother had come to the United States for an arranged marriage at the age of 17, and was illiterate despite being able to speak both English and French. Both parents worked, but food and other basic necessities were often scarce for the couple and their four children.

"Pastor Nora saw this as one of her callings," said Harner. "She provided child care as her time permitted, taught the mother to read, connected them with community resources, but most significantly became their friend." While this was not an outreach ministry of the church, nor a requirement of Fitzpatrick's work, it was a role that she joyfully assumed, Harner said.

Barry Eager, a lifelong resident of Berlin and a First Parish Church member for the past 49 years, said Fitzpatrick speaks with few notes and steps down from the pulpit to be among the congregation, which makes for a very intimate presentation.

"She also has a good way in pastoral care with people who need visitation, like the elderly and infirm," Eager said.

And Harner recalled: "She never hesitated to help people shoulder their individual burdens, whatever their circumstances and whatever the need. Her ministry is truly a blessing."

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