I was sitting at home one afternoon in late October when my telephone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but I decided to answer it anyway. The voice on the other end said, "May I speak with Deacon Selvester?" I replied, "Well, this is Father Selvester if that's who you're looking for?" There followed an apology because my caller had been misinformed about my identity. Then he introduced himself as Bishop Mark O'Connell from Boston. I knew the name, of course, because only recently he'd been appointed by the pope to be the next Bishop of Albany, NY.

I wondered why he might be calling me. Now, it's not all that unusual for me to get a phone call from some bishop I've never met. Since I've been designing and/or advising bishops on the designs of their coats of arms for around the last 40 years, this experience is not a new one. But I was curious about this call from Bishop O'Connell because I was aware that he already had a coat of arms, which he assumed when he became Auxiliary of Boston in 2016. So, I thought to myself, "Oh, well, since I did the coat of arms for Archbishop Henning, perhaps Bishop O'Connell simply wants my help with the new artwork combining his existing arms to those of the Diocese of Albany?" I've gotten such requests before, and it didn't strike me as so odd because he would have been familiar with my artwork from the Archbishop's coat of arms. But, actually, his request was more involved than that.

Bishop O'Connell explained to me that since he would be making this move and a new rendition of his coat of arms would be needed, he would like to take the opportunity to make some modifications to his existing coat of arms. Now that's a whole new thing! It wasn't that he wished to jettison his coat of arms entirely. Rather, he had had a few years to live with it and wanted to take the opportunity to "tweak" it a bit, especially because he was aware of the custom in North America of combining the personal arms with the arms of the See on the same shield. He expressed to me the desire to simplify the design so it would be easier to make out when it occupied only half the space occupied by his personal arms as an auxiliary bishop.

Now, I've been quoted often on public record as being against the practice of bishops redesigning their arms years after they have assumed them. After all, a coat of arms is, primarily, a means of personal identification. One doesn't change his identity just because he moves to a new assignment or a new ministry. I have long felt that there is a tendency among the bishops of the United States to change their coats of arms too easily. So, not wanting to seem like a hypocrite I discussed that matter with the bishop to try and understand his request better. It's not entirely as though I can't understand the idea that, upon further reflection, what seemed like good choices at the time the coat of arms was first assumed may no longer reflect what a person would like their personal symbol of identity to look like. One must keep in mind that for most bishops there is a very limited amount of time in between when their appointment is announced and their ordination is to take place. In that limited time -- maybe two to three months -- there are a lot of details that must be taken care of. So, it's not unusual for the process of devising a coat of arms to be a bit rushed. Sometimes, decisions must be made "on the fly" as it were and I certainly understand that a design adopted under such conditions might bear a re-examination after some time has passed. When I am designing a coat of arms for someone who is assuming armorial bearings for the first time and there is no time element involved, I always tell them to employ what I call "the refrigerator test." That is, take the sketch of the proposed coat of arms and hang it on the refrigerator (or the bathroom mirror, or above the bedroom dresser) so that you have the chance to glance at it every day. Then take some time to just look at it. I suggest anywhere from six to 10 weeks of just glancing at it. This enables you to see whether the choices you initially made stand up to scrutiny over some time. It's amazing how often someone changes their mind after only a few weeks.

Most new bishops don't have that luxury. Here in the United States, the expectation is that coats of arms will be designed, emblazoned, and reproduced in print in time to be used at the liturgy of ordination and/or installation. That really is rushing and it's a little unfair. In other parts of the world, especially in places that have state sponsored heraldic authority which regulates the creation of coats of arms, a person petitioning for a new grant of arms might wait as long as a year before the final rendition of their armorial bearings is prepared.

So, I did have some sympathy for Bishop O'Connell's desire to slightly modify his coat of arms while retaining much of what was already there and his desire to simplify the design to make it combine well with the arms of the See of Albany. Once we agreed that this was a case where a modification of the arms was both justified as well as desired, I laid aside my misgivings and set to work with enthusiasm.

Now, contrary to a common misconception, coats of arms do not belong to families but to individuals. In time, an armiger's coat of arms may be inherited by his descendants over the course of many generations creating the concept of the "family coat of arms." Nevertheless, coats of arms don't exist to be used by anyone and everyone who happens to have the same surname. If your surname is "Smith," you can't simply look up the coat of arms of someone named Smith and adopt their coat of arms as your own. Yet, this false idea persists. There are some mitigating factors among Irish, Scottish, and Polish heraldry because of the existence of clans in those cultures but, for the most part, you cannot simply steal someone else's coat of arms because you happen to share the same last name.

There is a coat of arms traditionally associated with those whose name is O'Connell. In fact, the late Cardinal O'Connell of Boston bore that coat of arms. But it's an important element of heraldry, as a means of identification, not to have a coat of arms that is identical to someone else's. So, Bishop O'Connell explained to me the symbolism of all the elements in his existing coat of arms and expressed his desire that his coat of arms be based on the O'Connell arms while not being an assumption of those arms altogether. This is a common thing in heraldry; to take an existing coat of arms and to "difference" it to make it unique to another individual.

The armorial bearings of Bishop Mark O'Connell impale the coat of arms of his episcopal See with his personal coat of arms. These evoke his family and heritage as well as his ministry. The coat of arms is composed of a shield with its charges (symbols), a motto, and the external ornamentation.

For Bishop O'Connell, the background divided in half with the upper portion silver (white) and the lower portion green is taken directly from the O'Connell arms. To this is added a saltire (a cross in the shape of an "X") as a symbol of St. Andrew, to whom the bishop has a great devotion, and who was crucified on an X-shaped cross. This saltire is "counterchanged," meaning its colors are reversed with the background colors. Above and below the saltire are two trefoils (which also resemble shamrocks). These are also counterchanged to maintain the green and white color scheme. They are depicted facing each other, as it were, with their stems in an attitude towards the center of the shield. In this way, they appear to be mirror images of each other. They, too, are taken from the original O'Connell arms. While there are three in the original, only two are depicted here for a sense of symmetry. They allude to both the Holy Trinity and the bishop's Irish heritage. In addition, green is an allusion to the bishop being a canon lawyer because green is the academic color usually associated with Canon Law.

Placed in the center overall, there is a stag's head. This is retained from the arms the bishop assumed in 2016 where it served there, as it does again here, as a reference to the full stag usually depicted in the arms of O'Connell. For purposes of creating another difference from the original, while at the same time hearkening back to the coat of arms the bishop first assumed, the head of the stag cut off at the neck is used rather than the whole animal. Instead of being depicted facing the viewer and colored red, it is shown in profile and is colored Tenné. This tone (called a stain) is used in heraldry as a representation of the color brown, which does not exist in heraldic art. The closest approximation of brown that can be used while maintaining heraldic tradition is this "stain" called Tenné.

On the upper third of the shield, called a "chief," we see a background composed of blue and silver (white) wavy bars. This is borrowed from the coat of arms of the Archdiocese of Boston, where Bishop O'Connell served as a priest and an auxiliary bishop. The two white lines also represent the two rivers of Albany. Over the wavy lines, there is a gold (yellow) fish. This symbol is borrowed from the arms associated with the name Delaney, which was the bishop's mother's maiden name. In the Delaney arms, it represents the "Salmon of Wisdom," associated with the legend of the mythical warrior, Fionn. In addition, it is worth noting that the fish was the earliest symbol used by the infant Church as a symbol of faith. The word for fish is ICHTHUS in Greek. Using the letters of the Greek alphabet to spell the word fish, early Christians secretly bore this symbol as it created an acronym with the hidden meaning "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior." The fish was a pictorial representation of this phrase and thereby formed a secret symbol for the first Christians.

The fish upon the waves, therefore, alludes to the bishop's maternal family, the Archdiocese of Boston, the Diocese of Albany, as well as the concept of the Apostles -- and their successors, the bishops -- being called to be "Fishers of Men." In a further allusion to St. Andrew, we know that St. Andrew was present during the miracle of the loaves and fishes, where he identified a boy with five loaves and two fish, which Jesus then multiplied to feed a crowd of five thousand people. This event highlights Andrew's role in bringing others to Jesus and his participation in the early ministry of Christ.

The arms of the Diocese of Albany are composed of a blue field on which are placed a beaver standing on one foot and holding a bishop's crozier below a silver (white) crescent in the upper right corner. The beaver holding a crozier in the arms of the See comes from the fact that the original name of Albany was "Beaverwyck," as it was a major outpost on the route for traders. In addition, the beaver is an animal closely associated with Canada, where the bishop was born. It holds a crozier as an indication of Albany as the seat of a bishop. The crescent alludes to the Immaculate Conception, the titular of the cathedral church.

The external ornaments include a gold episcopal cross placed vertically behind the shield. This is often mistaken for a processional cross like the one used in liturgical processions. However, like other heraldic ornaments the episcopal cross has its origins in something which is no longer actually used. At one time all bishops had, in addition to the processional cross at the head of the procession, another cross carried directly in front of them by a cleric. This other cross was a sign of the office of bishop. While no longer actually used it has remained a symbol of the episcopal office in heraldry.

Similarly, the broad-brimmed green galero was, at one time, worn by bishops in outdoor processions and cavalcades. No longer used, it remains a heraldic symbol of the office of bishop and takes the place of the helmet, mantling and crest that would appear in the coat of arms of a layman. In Catholic heraldry, the color and number of tassels on the galero indicates the rank of the bearer. The single barred episcopal cross and the green galero with 12 tassels signifies the coat of arms of a bishop according to the Instruction of the Holy See, "Ut Sive," issued in 1969.

The motto chosen by Bishop O'Connell appears on a scroll below the shield. "Invenimus Messiam," which translates to "We Have Found the Messiah," is taken from John 1:41. The words are attributed to St. Andrew, who purportedly used them when greeting people for the first time as a way of announcing the coming of the Lord, His great work of Redemption, and his Resurrection. Bishop O'Connell's spirituality is deeply rooted in this spiritual dictum.

In the end, I think we accomplished what we set out to do. The very large part of the original symbolism in Bishop O'Connell's personal arms was retained but simply re-imagined and arranged in a simpler fashion. They now combine very well on the same shield with the arms of the See of Albany. This project was both rewarding and a lot of fun.



FATHER GUY SELVESTER IS THE DIOCESE OF METUCHEN, N.J., DIRECTOR OF ECUMENICAL AND INTERFAITH AFFAIRS, AS WELL AS THE PASTOR OF ST. MARY STAR OF THE SEA IN SOUTH AMBOY, N.J. HE IS A FELLOW OF SEVERAL HERALDIC ORGANIZATIONS AND, FOR THE PAST 40 YEARS, HAS DESIGNED COATS OF ARMS FOR NUMEROUS PRELATES AND ORGANIZATIONS, INCLUDING THAT OF ARCHBISHOP RICHARD G. HENNING.