In the regular Roman Catholic universe, all the territory of earth (and even the moon) is assigned to a particular diocese. In order for a priest to become a Bishop, he has to be given a jurisdiction, thus if all the jurisdictions are covered (meaning no vacancies), the Church must carve out some territory from an existing diocese and rename it and then ordain and/or appoint it a Bishop. If new territory is discovered, the Bishop from the point where the expedition was launched that discovers the new territory becomes the new territory’s de facto Bishop, thus the Bishop of Orlando, Florida became the Bishop of the Moon.While we were leaving mass last Sunday, i heard a voice behind us say, "I'm not really used to a traditional mass." This puzzled me, because I don't think our parish sets itself up as "traditional", it just has a serious music program and a reverent OF mass with vested cantor and servers. It certainly isn't ostentatious about chapel veils, for instance, and it doesn't host a Latin mass. The pastor wears a cassock only on the most important occasions; often it's jeans and tennies with his clerical collar, and I think that's largely because he seems to work from sunup to late at night.The Ordinariate was not formed this way. It was made up by the Vatican. Most dioceses that I am aware of are self-sustaining entities. They raise their own funds for survival and growth, they manage their own accounting systems and are self-lending and self-insured, and thus have a certain amount of “critical mass”, if you will. The Ordinariates do not seem to follow this pattern. I can’t imagine the North American Ordinariate (or the other Ordinariates for that matter) have the wherewithal to be self-insured or self-lending. If they can’t implement a common accounting system, how could they possibly follow a unified building code.
I would assume that if the Chancery of the Ordinariate can’t collateralize itself for insurance and property, its member parishes would have to secure insurance and loans on their own. So there is your contrast, a vibrant churning, growing, constantly dying and renewing itself galaxy of the Roman Catholic Church and a sputtering system trying desperately to get enough material and momentum (critical mass) to ignite a fiery core and begin its own process of renewal before it is either ripped apart by the monstrous gravity of a nearby galaxy or collapses back in upon itself as a cold, dark lifeless chunk of rock.
Either way, there will still be a Catholic jurisdiction for all the folks who would be left without a Bishop if the Ordinariate goes dark. It’s like what Dorothy Gale realized after she defeats the witch and gains the ruby slippers, ". . .if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!” See, there really is no place like Rome, oh- I mean, Home.
I think it's just a well-run diocesan parish, and I can't imagine that they're that unusual. Yes, if a visitor is used to flip-flops and halter-tops, it may come as a shock. So one thing that puzzles me is how some people are attracted to a faux, Medieval Times "traditional" mass in the North American ordiariate, although this is by no means consistent, and you find guitar masses there, too. I just don't think you need to go outside a diocese to find a worthwhile parish, but there's a real danger if you go looking for these things at the fringes.
