Please find three tributes delivered in honor Fr. Kilty.
Funeral Mass
Tuesday, September 19
Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church
Port Richmond, Philadelphia, PA
Lamentations 3:17-26
Romans 8:14-23
Luke 24: 13-16, 28-35
Homily
A young man knocked on the monastery door several times before the door opened just a crack. A voice came from inside: Amice, Ad Quid Venisti? My friend, why have you come? The young man was perplexed. For in St. Matthew’s gospel, this is the question Jesus asked Judas in the garden as the soldiers approached. Here, the question is put to him as seeks to be allowed beyond the door. The young man responded that he wanted to join the company of the holy men of the monastery. The Porter told him to go away and pray, and if he is so inclined to come back.
The young man prayed for several months and once more knocked on the monastery door. Once more the door opened only a crack, and he heard Amice, Ad Quid Venisti? My friend, why have you come? He answered I have seen the good works of the monastery. How the fields are cultivated, how the people of the village are taught, how the sacraments are provided. I want to join your number. The response from inside was almost the same. My son, go away and pray some more, and if you are so inclined come back.
The young man prayed for a long time and once more knocked on the monastery door. Amice, Ad Quid Venisti? My friend, why have you come? The young man responded I have come searching for God. The door opened wide. The Porter said, come in. All of us here are seeking God, too.
So, the question is put to you tonight: Amice, Ad Quid Venisti? My friend, why have you come? If you have come to hear of the many assignments and accomplishments of Father Neil Kilty, well you will be disappointed. You can read his obituary for these details. If you have come seeking God, you have come to the right place. Father Neil helped each one of you in your search for God as he searched with you.
I do not know how many times Father Neil knocked on the door. We do know, however, that the growth of a vocation proceeds in steps, and the search takes many forms.
How so? The parable of today’s gospel tells us. It is the story of the Road to Emmaus. The two disciples had left Jerusalem a bit downcast. They had thought Jesus would be the long-expected Messiah, but Jesus disappointed them. Another traveler joined them and opened up the scriptures for them. As they walked, the stranger taught them that the Messiah had to suffer and die first. As they joined in the breaking of bread, a sign of the Eucharist, they recognized Jesus.
We do not know where Emmaus was. Archeologists have offered some possibilities of places a few hours distant from Jerusalem. These are only conjectures, however. It is better not knowing, for Emmaus can be anywhere a Christian travels. The Emmaus Road could be Allegheny Avenue, Erie and Torresdale Avenues, Center Valley, Overbrook or the ways to many convents and religious houses Father Neil traveled to join you in your search for God.
I know of three times Neil suffered on the road. The first was the closing of North Catholic. When you would meet him, the conversation would come to his most current reason why North was chosen and not a different school. He would second guess the Diocesan officials. It was his belief in the Resurrection that he found solace. He went on to teach in another Archdiocesan school.
The second was the closing of Hawthorne Dominicans’ Sacred Heart Cancer Home where he had served Mass for Father Herman Buckley as a high school student. As a priest, he and his friend, Father Bob Ashenbrenner, offered Mass and ministered to the sick and dying. In time, he understood that the decision was a business one as government regulations demanded more and more. The power of the resurrection gave him the power to accept and move on.
The third was the deterioration of his health. He was an active person, taking on physical labor and project after project. He worked hard and would wonder why others did not work as hard as he did. The aging of his body was a loss he found difficult to accept. His body no longer had the strength he desired. Acceptance of limitations came with the understanding of the promise of sharing in the resurrection.
All of us share suffering on the various roads we travel in our search for God. Neil experienced suffering, so he could better understand how you suffer disappointment or loss. Is this not the role of a priest?
Ten days ago, Father Neil came before the judgment seat of God. I do not know what was said, but I can guess. Amice, Ad Quid Venisti? My friend, why have you come? He did not have to search anymore. He found God, the one he had sought.
James E. Dalton, OSFS
Former Principal of North Catholic and close friend of Fr. Kilty
Memorial Mass for Fr. Neil Kilty, OSFS, Childs, MD
Wednesday, September 20, 2023
My brothers, the events of the last week and a half weigh heavy upon us gathered here in this Sacred Space this morning. It’s an intimate little chapel and, as in every family, we all know pretty much where everyone sits here around the Lord’s table. We all have a place. Like the Disciples in the Gospel, we too feel the loss of not just one, but two beloved members of this Community: Fr. McGinley and Fr. Kilty. As we celebrate this Memorial Mass for Neil today, we are keenly aware of his empty chair (and the absence of his trusty oxygen machine) along the back wall of this room.
I spoke with Bro. Bob Drelich last evening who reported that Fr. Jim Dalton’s Funeral Mass homily for Neil was filled with eloquent and inspired sentiments which greatly consoled the assembly gathered at Nativity BVM Church in Philadelphia. Since we have all seen Neil’s beautifully written obituary and are familiar with the history of his Oblate Assignments outside these walls, permit me this morning to focus on Neil’s presence among us here at Annecy Hall.
Departing the Sacred Heart Home run by his beloved Hawthorn Dominican Sisters in Philadelphia, Fr. Kilty arrived here at De Sales Center on August 23, 2018…ON HOSPICE! Accompanying Neil on his return trip to Soyhieres Hill were several suitcases filled with clothes, a box or two of pictures and plaques and some personal items. Thinking this was rather spartan even for Neil, I turned to one of the movers and said: “So, that’s it?”
“No, Father,” came the reply “there are a few boxes of books….”
I later discovered that “a few” would translate 65 boxes of books! Despite his ailing health, he arrived here as a man on mission…and that is truly what he was in life. A man on mission, a man on fire with the Love of God.
Neil’s time among us for his first four years here in Annecy Hall was something to behold. He truly benefitted from our Nursing’s Staff’s loving care. He had returned to Oblate Community and was once again seated with loving confreres. He was surrounded by familiar reminders of his former home at North Catholic’s faculty house – this altar, these stations, the crucifix behind me – as well as a complete set of Northeast Catholic High School yearbooks. Weakened, but not quite ready to give up the mission, he plunged into a regular routine, the old typewriter came out of the closet, and he continued his ministry to the Alumni of his beloved Alma Mater. He had taken hold once again and would not let go.
Michael Vogt, OSFS
Former student of Fr. Kilty and Assistant Superior of Oblate Community at Childs, MD
A Tribute to Fr. Kilty from a Friend and Student
Fr. Kilty, to some he was “The Man” and to others, he was “The Myth or the Legend.” To those of us who were taught by him or knew him from school, he was all of the above. But most of us knew him as a friend. He himself would have said, “I’m just a man.” When you talked to him you could tell he was from Northeast Catholic with his Port Richmond accent and the ‘choice’ words he would use when necessary. The things he said, without hesitation, were always amusing, brilliant, spontaneous, and to the point. Just recently, Father Kilty told us that he wasn’t finished with his time on earth. He told us he didn’t want to pass on to his eternal reward just yet. But, as I heard from a number of his friends since he passed away, we can only imagine the words between Neil and St. Peter at the “Pearly Gates.” Perhaps he will meet Moses and tell him that ‘I have 5 or 10 more Commandments that are much better than the original 10.’ Maybe he would ask the Lawgiver: “How’d you really do that Parting of the Red Sea?” Matthew/Mark/Luke and John better be on their toes for some praise and critiques, too.
I’m sure Fr. Kilty thought about meeting St. Francis de Sales over the years, and while I am sad that it is finally happening, I am overjoyed that he will finally get his wish. I bet they will have a good time discussing the claim of the West Catholic Burrs that they graduated more religious brothers and priests than every school in Philly (including North). When Neil heard this statement, he took it as a challenge. For the last few years, Fr. Kilty spent time researching this claim just to prove them wrong. Fr. Kilty was born in a time of depression, death, and war. Fascism had overrun the world and brought battles to Europe and the Pacific. As he grew up, Neil saw the Korean War and then he had to watch some of his students go to war in Vietnam. Sadly, some did not return home. He lived to see seven Popes, seven Archbishops in Philadelphia, the closing of many schools. He go to see the Phillies and Eagles win a couple of world championships These events, some wonderful and some sad, affected him. However, Fr. Kilty saw in St. Francis de Sales a gentleness, a brilliance and a love of God and his fellow man.
I was lucky enough to have Fr. Kilty teach me Religion. Some of my friends had him for one of the half-dozen or more languages he spoke and understood. One of his former French students said Fr. Kilty would proclaim to them “How can I teach you boys a foreign language when you don’t even speak English?” One of Neil’s classmates from high school, John O’ Rourke, said about him: “I was honored to be a friend. When we met, Neil asked me my name. When I told him it was John, he immediately called me Jack. I told him that no one ever called me that. Neil’s response was - good that’s what I’ll call you. He was the only one to call me that.”
When Neil died, I received messages on social media sharing similar stories:
Barbara Murray Rilling wrote: “I’ve known Neil for 67 years he was a ‘blind date’ in 1956. He was a good friend, and we will miss him.
Stephanie & Mike Morris: “One of my favorite people.”
Deacon Steve Guckin: “One of the GREATEST.”
John Shimp: “One of the greatest priests I’ve ever had the chance to know. I had him all four years at North’ and quote him often. I was also fortunate enough that he married me and my wife. He was a true Salesian gentleman and made the priesthood relatable. May he Rest in Peace.”
Mike Fenerty (class of ’81) wrote: “Fr. Kilty has been a friend since I was in grade school. He celebrated my Father’s (class of 1942) funeral. He offered great advice and humorous insults to me countless times, all while being a true priest. May God Bless Him!
Fr. Kilty, like all of us, was disappointed when the decision was made to close our beloved school. He immediately coined the phrase “Well, we are Norphans now.” Fr. Neil continued to be the chaplain for the Alumni Association for many years. We always look forward to his Chaplain’s Corner article in the Falconer newsletter (usually typed on his typewriter or handwritten and mailed to our offices). He usually started off with his list of who ‘went home to God.’ He always finished with some great words by St. Francis, Fr. Brisson, or even Irish composer James Coulter. One of his more memorable columns was the 2021 issue where he mentions his longtime friendship with Len Knobbs and his wife Barbara and their bi-monthly phone calls and visits. He wrote, “Len’s gift to North Catholic and the Alumni Association was his faithfulness.” Father quoted a line from one of Mr. Coulter’s songs to describe Len’s friendship: “…and tho’ he may be gone, memories will linger on. And I’ll miss him-the old man.”
Fr. Kilty had many friends from NC, the Oblate community and this parish (Nativity). Joe Glackin, in particular, has been a grand friend to Neil for a long time and was a great help to him over the years, including his final years at Childs. Another longtime friend of Fr. Kilty’s was Steve Cardullo ’72. Steve and I went to visit Neil in the hospital in Wilmington the day before he died. Neil was having a difficult time speaking without coughing and he was weak, but he was still sharp. When he rang the buzzer, looking for the nurse, he was able to ask “where is that nurse? They take forever to get here in this place!” We didn’t have a long visit, but those minutes (with his familiar complaints) were and will always remain in our hearts.
At his funeral mass, the Responsorial Psalm was Psalm 95: “If today you hear his voice, harden not your heart.” We would all love to hear Neil’s voice again – especially at the next Communion Breakfast. At the Mass and Breakfast last March, Neil’s voice was very low and limited. Those of us at the head table were laughing because we heard the punch lines to his jokes, but the rest of the crowd could only hear the set-up to the joke. Somehow, Neil made it work. On the day Neil passed away, the Phillies had a tribute game for children with serious illnesses. I made myself a promise to ask Fr. Kilty to intercede for any child I hear of who is sick. I know he will continue to help young people, as that was his life’s work. In The Introduction to the Devout Life (part 1,17), St. Francis de Sales reminds us that “From the heights of Heaven, Jesus mercifully looks down upon you and graciously invites you there. He says: come, dear soul, find everlasting rest in my bountiful arms where I have prepared undying happiness for you in the abundance of my love.” We will miss you, Fr. Kilty.
Rest in Peace – our friend!
Bob Kensil
President, North Catholic Alumni Association
