It's an inventory that seems like the answer to a prayer: a sliver of Christ's cross, a piece of the Blessed Mother's undergarment, a thorn from the Crown of Thorns, a fragment from the Last Supper table, the teeth and flesh and fingernails and dried blood and clothing of sundry saints and prophets and abbots and martyrs and ... you get the idea.

And most of the items come with certificates of authenticity.

Do I hear an amen?

Actually, I hear a lot more on the Saturday afternoon I visit St. Anthony's Chapel in Troy Hill, the largest reliquary outside the Vatican. Sister Margaret Liam Glenane, the unofficial keeper of the relics, gives me a private tour, explaining that the relics were collected by and/or given to the Rev. Suitbert Mollinger, the son of a wealthy Belgian family who personally financed the chapel for $300,000. The dedication took place on June 13, 1883, with thousands flocking to see what is still the No. 1 attraction: the tooth of St. Anthony.

I ask to see the tooth, but Sister Margaret, she with a dry sense of humor and a drier Irish accent, asks me to sit in one of the original pews. She wants to first tell me a story.

It seems a group of tourists went to the church in Padua, Italy, where the skull of St. Anthony is housed. The tour guide told the visitors that the skull is complete except for one tooth missing. "One woman raised her hand." Sister Margaret explains, "and says, 'I know where the tooth is. It's in St. Anthony's Chapel in Pittsburgh.' "

She softly chuckles as we make our way to the altar of St. Anthony. Sister Margaret moves a vase of flowers to the side, and there, barely visible through the hazy glass, is the tooth.

We make our way around the church, and it's a magical, mind-numbing experience. Although some people come to see the stunning stained glass windows and German-made, life-size Stations of the Cross (touch them and an alarm goes off), it's the relics that rate. There are 800 relic cases of various sizes. Some relics are wrapped in silk or netting or gauze, some are the size of a flea, some the size of a small human, such as the complete skeleton of St. Demetrius, each bone wrapped in silk and adorned with what appears to be faux emeralds and rubies.

The experience is also maddening -- the relic labels are (mostly) faded and in Latin and, unless you have extraordinary vision, they are almost impossible to read. Many relics are so far out of view that one has to believe they are there. I ask Sister Margaret where the sliver of the cross is, and she points to a reliquary shaped like a sanctuary high on the wall of the left transept; it sits there, lost among 699 other relics. Sister Margaret tells me the chapel owns 22 such cross slivers. I ask her if the church would ever consider selling one or two to raise much needed restoration funds. "The relics are not for sale," she says. "They are holy pieces."

Sister Margaret knows where everything is, sometimes getting help from a book listing every relic in alphabetical order that she and docent Betty Chernosky compiled. (Buy a copy in the souvenir shop across the street, where you can also visit a mini-museum dedicated to Father Mollinger.)

"Come," she says. "The public isn't allowed to do this but since you are with me ... "

I find myself at the altar. The skulls of St. Macharius and St. Stephana are staring me in the face. There are bones and pieces of skin and hair and fragments of former human life all around me.

Sister Margaret surprises me by showing me what I was so eager to see: the fragment of the Last Supper table. It's hidden in the old wooden altar table, out of view and covered by an altar cloth, not readily accessible to the public. I feel honored. And privileged. And a bit let down. It's simply a piece of what looks like wood, no bigger than a crumb, housed in a case whose glass is cracked. The inscription reads "Ex Sacra Tabula Ultimae Coenae, D.N.J. Christi" (From the sacred table of the Last Supper of Our Lord Jesus Christ).

Viewing that and many of the 4,999 other relics forces the obvious question: Are they real? Sister Margaret says yes, and has the paperwork to prove it, 525 certificates sealed by the bishop or a postulate attesting authenticity.

I look squarely into the empty eye sockets of St. Theodore and decide not to question any further. Whether or not the relics are real is not the issue. This is an issue of faith, high above a hill in the North Side.

St. Anthony's Chapel is at 1704 Harpster St., Troy Hill. Chapel is open 1 to 4 p.m. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays; 12:30 to 4 p.m. Sundays, with tours at 1, 2 and 3 p.m. Closed on holidays. Arrange group tours by calling Most Holy Name of Jesus Rectory at 412-231-2994 or the chapel office at 412-323-9504.