Following is a Pilot transcription of the homily delivered by Bishop Mark O'Connell during his Mass of installation as the 11th Bishop of Albany on Dec. 5, 2025. It contains minor edits for clarity.



Dear people of the Diocese of Albany, I wanted to be your bishop more than I can say; I just didn't know your name. With all my heart, I believe the Holy Spirit has led me to this moment and to you. When I look back over my life, I can see how everything has prepared me to serve you, to walk with you, and to love you. You may have noticed I cannot stop smiling today. It was the same at each of my three ordinations. I smile when I'm happy, and I am happy when I know I am exactly where God wants me to be.

Last Sunday, Nov. 30, was the first Sunday of Advent, a new beginning, a fresh invitation to seek and find Jesus so we are ready for him to come more powerfully into our lives. Nov. 30 is also the feast of my favorite saint, St. Andrew. My episcopal motto comes from him in John's Gospel: "We have found the Messiah." You will see it on my coat of arms beneath the Albany Beaver, "Invenimus Messiam." Andrew says those words to his brother Simon after meeting Jesus. And then he brings Simon to the Lord, who names him Peter. Later, Andrew brings the boy with five loaves and two fish to Jesus. And still later, he and Philip bring the Greek seekers to him. Family, a child, foreigners -- Andrew is always bringing people to Jesus.

Just last week, the world witnessed the historic meeting in Nicaea between Pope Leo XIV and Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew. They deliberately invoked the brother apostles Andrew and Peter and prayed together at the very place where tradition says Andrew preached. The logo for the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea shows Peter's keys and Andrew's X-shaped cross. That same cross now appears on my coat of arms behind the O'Connell stag. Andrew was crucified on the X-shaped cross in Patras, Greece. Legend tells us he preached so powerfully that the Roman proconsul's wife, Maximilla, became Christian. Feeling unworthy to die as Jesus did, Andrew asked to be tied, not nailed, to a cross of a different shape. For three days, he hung there preaching until he could speak no more. The first called disciple was faithful to his last breath.

My sisters and brothers, here in Albany, we have found the Messiah. He is Jesus Christ, the Lord. In a very real way, we are all invited to be his disciples and to bring others to him. Though I am unworthy, I have been called to be a successor of the apostles. Yet before anything else, I share with every one of you the fundamental calling to be a disciple. The apostles had different gifts. Peter received the keys; John, long life and profound theology; James the Greater, the grace of being the first apostolic martyr. Thomas carried the Gospel to India and beyond. Jude Thaddeus traveled to Armenia and Persia. It was Jude who, at the Last Supper, dared to ask the question everyone else was thinking: "Lord, why will you reveal yourself to us and not to the world?" That bold questioner became the patron of impossible causes, together with St. Anthony, a formidable team when everything seems lost. Though I confess they have never once helped me find a golf ball.

Each apostle had a unique mission. Each disciple does, too. You who are here in this church, watching online or on Catholic TV, or listening in your parishes, you are uniquely called to tell your family, the next generation, and those who do not know him yet, "We have found the Messiah."

Here in the Diocese of Albany, I come not to be served, but to serve, to listen to you with an open heart, to encourage you in your daily witness, to walk beside you, as together we carry the Gospel of Jesus Christ into every corner of our 14 counties. From the quiet valleys of the Southern Tier to the heights of the Adirondacks and Catskills, along the Hudson and Mohawk rivers, up the hills and down the historic Erie Canal, from the Taconic ridges in the east to the western gates of our diocese. This is the very ground made holy by the blood of St. Isaac Jogues and the prayers of St. Kateri Tekakwitha; by the faithful laborers of Bishop McCloskey and Bishop Scharfenberger; by the courage of Henry Johnson; by the devoted service of so many like our own COO and Chancellor Bonni Shippee, who carries the mission forward today. Let me encourage you, pray with you, rejoice with you, and weep with you. Let me stand with you in the joys and sorrows of the journey, for I am your brother and your shepherd, sent to walk this sacred ground together with you, until we all reach our true home in Christ.

For too long, we've divided the people of God into those who teach and those who learn. Vatican II and the recent call to synodality have reminded us that every one of us is both learner and teacher. So I call every person in these pews and connected by every means of communication: Discover your own unique calling in God's kingdom. Like St. Andrew, have the courage to proclaim the Messiah to all.

You who are priests, preach for me. Proclaim this message of discipleship from the overflow of your prayer. Do not be afraid to speak the truth of Jesus Christ. But always love your people first, gently, before you challenge them. I know you are weary. I know the bankruptcy weighs on you. I know what it is to wake up at 3:00 a.m. with a racing heart and go to bed spiritually exhausted. Do not be afraid to ask me the hard, unspoken questions, like Jude Thaddeus. Do not be afraid to show emotion or to step deeper into intimacy with God. Keep preaching Jesus Christ until your last breath, as did Andrew. Be strong in the Lord, and he will be strong in you.

You who are deacons, together with your wives, if you have one, be empowered by the grace of ordination to serve at the Lord's table wherever you are sent. Never take sides, but stand as a bridge representing me to the people and the people to me. I need you, and our parishes need your stability as priests come and go.

You who are consecrated religious -- sisters, brothers, priests, and deacons -- I beg for your prayers. I have been blessed by religious women all of my life, beginning with my own aunt, Sister Jean Delaney, OP. Pray for me, yes, but above all, pray for God's people. As St. Francis indicated to his brothers, "Preach always; use words when necessary." Let your lives be prayer and charity, radiating Christ's love. The church needs that witness, now more than ever.

You who are lay leaders, parish council members, finance experts, principals, teachers, musicians, youth ministers, pastoral associates, pastoral center staff, benefactors, and countless other titles: Your fidelity is indispensable. Do not see your responsibilities as a burden, but as a calling. Refuse to join the chorus of negativity. Renew yourselves in prayer and stewardship. Together we will face an uncertain financial future, rebuild what has been damaged, take the punches, get back up, and hand on a living faith to a new generation. You are the arms and legs of Christ's body. Be strong. Be kind.

You who serve in parishes as volunteers, love your neighbor first and then serve at the altar. Those who serve as Eucharistic ministers and lectors should be called to these ministries because you have already volunteered and shown your fidelity in service to others for Christ. Let your ministry at the altar naturally flow from this service.

You who may be called to the priesthood or consecrated life: Is God speaking to you right now through my poor words? That restless sense that something is missing? That mysterious yet persistent call you keep pushing away? Open your heart. Open your heart and explore it. It may indeed be a vocation to priesthood or religious life, but at the very least, it is God inviting you to a deeper place in his plan. Be not afraid. Be not afraid.

To those of you deeply wounded by the church and by the sins of her members: I know you. I have walked with many of you as priest, as canon lawyer, and as bishop. I do not pretend to know the details of your individual pain, but I carry your collective sorrow in my heart. And I apologize to you here in words as I pledge my concern, my tears, my prayers, and my willingness to accompany you as far as you are able to go. Let me gently show you Jesus, who loves you with an everlasting love. His light is never overcome by darkness. And he is your Messiah as truly as he is mine.

Good people of Albany: My first day in seminary in 1986, I wept when I heard the hymn, "Here I Am, Lord": "Here I Am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go, Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart." You are the people God has entrusted me to love and to serve, come what may. There is no hierarchy when we dip our fingers in the same baptismal water. The people of God includes those who have left us and those that peek in the door. We are one body gathered around one Eucharistic table, each of us called to a uniquely personal relationship with Christ. I am so lucky, so lucky to be your bishop. I will go where my Messiah leads me, and I will hold you forever in my heart.