As a teenager, I looked forward to the American Dream: coming home to a tidy house behind a white picket fence, to a lovely wife and well-ordered children. But I became a priest instead of a family man. I live in untidy parishes rather than well-ordered homes, and “here comes everyone” are my children. But I still dream of white picket fences. What measure of “success”, actually, can a priest in a post-Christian society expect? Fifteen years ago I was assigned to a large subu