Deacon Neil Pirozzi Memorial

Bishop O'Connell, December 27, 2019
When I had the privilege of visiting Neil and Mrs. Pirozzi a week ago, he asked me two questions: the first, “Bishop, do you think I’ll go to heaven?”; the second, “Did I do good for the Diocese?”  Both questions were very easy for me to answer.  “Neil, if you don’t get to heaven, who of us will?”  And I can’t think of too many others who did more good for our Diocese.
 
This morning, we gather during Christmas week --- the beloved family and friends of Neil Pirozzi --- to offer his soul to the God he loved so much and served so well. In a sense, Neil is our Christmas gift back to the God who created and cared for him throughout his life, a good life, a long life --- but, from our perspective, what life is ever long enough?  Like the sisters Mary and Martha weeping at the tomb of their brother Lazarus in today’s Gospel, we feel an absence, especially in this holiday season, an absence that saddens us.  We wish that things could be different, that we could hold on to Neil a bit longer.  But the Lord had other plans.  And Neil was ready … and willing.
 
Our first reading from the writings of Jeremiah give us comfort, acknowledging that the Lord’s mercy and compassion are never exhausted.  The Lord is good to those who trust and seek him.  And so Neil Pirozzi lived his life, not for himself as the second reading from St. Paul to the Romans reminds us.  He trusted the Lord.  In life --- and because of a life lived for the Lord ---  in death as well, Neil was the Lord’s. 
 
At the same time, Neil was ours.  The sadness we feel in these days is offset by our faith and by our memories of (a brother,) a husband of 64 years, a Dad, a grandfather, a great grandfather, an uncle.  And who could begin to count his friends and co-workers?  The faith in which Neil and all of us were baptized sustains us in this moment.  It was this faith that motivated Neil to love his family and give himself in service as a deacon to his larger family, the Church, the Diocese, the parish here.  And the memories we bring with us today will continue to sustain us.
 
I have been inspired by those stories and memories I have been told about Neil in recent days.  The love letters to his beloved wife Tommi, the support for Stephanie, Jack, Scot and Tony as they were growing up and their spouses and kids, the many friends from so many places, especially the golf course; his brother deacons and the priests and bishops he worked with; the countless parishioners and people he served and counseled and consoled and to whom preached the Gospel; Neil had a great smile, infectious laugh and a little mischievous way.  He was affectionate and loving to everybody and grateful for any show of kindness; to know him was to love him and he never hesitated with a hug or a kiss … even for his bishop!  An enthusiastic fan of the NY Giants, Neil was also quick to forgive his Philadelphian bishop for rooting for the Eagles.  I only knew Neil for the last 10 years but in those years I witnessed his faith, his integrity, his devotion and great skills more times than I can count.  The chancery will not be the same without him.  He spoke so often of gratitude.  I hope that from his new home at God’s side, he knows how grateful we are to him.
 
In St. John’s Gospel today, the sacred author tells us that, when he learned of the death of his friend Lazarus, Jesus wept.  In the Christmas season, we celebrate the Lord Jesus’ taking on our human flesh, becoming one with us, sharing our human emotions to the point of weeping at the death of his friend.  Today Jesus feels our pain but, at the same time, he comforts us in our loss. Neil suffered with Christ in recent months.  When our Lord called him home, our loss became Neil’s gain.  We believe that in our faith.  The time has come for us to obey the Lord’s word’s at the end of today’s Gospel: “untie him --- untie him from every suffering and weakness with which the earth has bound him --- untie him and let him go free.”
 
Permit me to close by sharing the words of a poem I love:
What is the measure of a man?
Is it strength?
Intelligence?
Or fearlessness?
The ability to lead others down the right path?
The ability to inspire the seed of greatness in those who need encouragement?
If the aforementioned are measuring tools,
Then many live life as men.
Do you wear your love for God like shining armor?
Is the love of God resting upon and guiding you?
No one can question your strength, intelligence or leadership.
There are plaques, and championships to prove the ability to lead.
Measuring sticks the world uses to define a man.
What can’t be measured is the soul of a man.
A man’s soul is the inward interpretation of his outer shell.
May your soul catch fire.
The flames of decency, honor and integrity burning bright.
Bright enough to light the way
For hundreds of young men in the dark.
Bright enough to bring honor
To a world forever changed by your presence.
Bright enough to heat the souls of younger men you leave behind.
The true measure of a man is the legacy he leaves.
Be you husband, father, brother or friend,
Leave your torch burning brightly,
And we will never allow the flame to die.
As we are all warmed by the fire of a true Man.
Traquita Thomas