Elvis has left the building — to go to church.
A New Jersey deacon who is also an Elvis Presley tribute band singer is known to get his parishioners “All Shook Up.”
Anthony Liguori Jr. is lovingly referred to as “Deacon Elvis” by the faithful at Corpus Christi Church in Hasbrouck Heights. But new churchgoers are often shocked by his resemblance to The King.
“During Christmas services, I could see these people come in, and then they’re tapping on the shoulder and pointing … It’s pretty funny to watch,” Liguori, 64, told The Post.
“Even as I’m up there proclaiming the Gospel, I’m watching the people looking at me, some of them with smirks on their face. And then their family who brought them in is saying, ‘No, this is what he does.’”
The Saddle Brook, NJ native doesn’t sing at the pulpit, but he does sport sideburns, high hair and a sterling silver cross that was handmade for Elvis by the superstar’s ranch hand in 1972.
A fan of Liguori’s, Don Dunn, purchased the cross in 1978 at a Memphis convention for around $1,500. When Liguori was ordained a deacon by the Catholic Church in 2011, Dunn gifted it to him.
“He said, ‘I have no children and I got to give it to somebody that really would deserve this.’ I was floored. And he gave me . . . a photograph of Priscilla wearing this.”
It’s not strange to equate Elvis with religion, Liguori explained.
“People would yell out at concerts, ‘Elvis, you’re The King!’ And he would say, ‘No, I’m not, Jesus is The King,’” he said.
“A lot of the churches where he lived in a very poor part of Mississippi were black Gospel churches, so he got a lot of that rhythm and soul from them.”
He also noted the late singer, who died at 42 in 1977 and would have turned 90 on Wednesday, was extremely generous.
“When he made it and the money just started rolling in, he saw it as a way to help people. He literally gave homes to not only people he knew, but strangers, and didn’t want any publicity.”
When he was 6, Liguori’s great-grandmother introduced him to Elvis’ movies.
“I thought he was cool, the girls, the guitars, the motorcycles, the hairstyle,” recalled Liguori, who began playing Elvis’ music in high school and performing professionally in college.
Although he attended mass every Sunday, it was a near-death experience at 20 — when his omentum, a flap of tissue that covers the abdominal organs, twisted from years of contact sports — that brought Liguori closer to God.
“My whole body was being poisoned … I remember being in the operating room and kind of rising … I saw the whole tunnel and light thing, as cliché as that sounds … I had my vision of paradise … Jesus embraced me and I felt his warmth and power heal me.”
After sharing his story with others, Liguori, who married his high school sweetheart and has two children, felt a calling to the deaconhood.
Deacons, who go through five years of seminary training, perform many of the functions that priests do.
“We can preach the Gospel, baptize, perform wedding ceremonies, preside at funerals. The only things we don’t do is hear confessions or do the consecration,” he explained.
His nickname came soon after he was ordained, when he was asked to sing at a retreat, advertised with a poster that proclaimed, “The music is going to be provided by Deacon Elvis.”
“At first, I was taken aback, but the poster was approved by the archbishop, who actually called me that in person.”
The singer-songwriter, who is in the Alabama Country Music Hall of Fame, performs nationwide with his band, which includes his son Christian — everywhere from cruise ships to casinos to, of course, his church.
“We did a fundraiser here a year ago and packed the house. We couldn’t sell another ticket.”
