Many, many things have touched my heart during these days at World Meeting of Families. Did I mention that there were many things that have touched my hearts while I’ve been here?

Yeah. That many.

But of all the amazing impressions, I would have to say that what have moved me most are the Masses at the Philadelphia Convention Center, which have been taking place daily.

From the Opening Mass on through, they have all been reverent, uplifting, and Spirit-filled. And the music has been fantastic.

Coming from me, that is a high compliment, since I’m a Mass music snob. Back home, I belong to a parish with a musician and choir that are out of this world.

Well, at least they sound like it

So, when I’m attending Mass away from my home parish, I tend to be fairly critical of the music.

I’m not a musician; I’m just a musically spoiled brat.

The orchestra musicians and vocalists here at the WMOF Masses please me, and that says a lot.

But it’s not just the music that’s oh-so cool. It’s the bishops. For every Mass, there is a sea of bishops on stage, and next to the stage is an ocean of priests. It is an amazing sight to see.

As a journalist, I know I should snoop to find out exactly how many bishops and priests are here. But, I’ve refrained because somehow that would spoil the mystique for me. I prefer to ponder the awesomeness of all those mitres without quantifying it.

Here’s an example of how many there are.

Yesterday, I missed my usual train into the city, so I took the next one – 30 minutes later.

I hurried off the train and trekked through the Convention Center to the hall, thinking I’d just peek in and see if I’d catch at least a bit of Mass. Maybe I could still make it for the Offertory and Communion.

I got to the hall, a bit out of breath, and cracked open the door.

The homily had just begun.

That’s because there are so many clergy members here at WMOF that the entrance procession is rather lengthy.

And that’s what I love. In fact, it brings tears to my eyes.

There are a number of priests in my life who I love dearly and who have been extraordinary spiritual guides and friends. Our bishops are the descendants of the Apostles, they have been commissioned by Christ to go into the world and shepherd his flock. I think of that every time I see a priest or bishop.

And then, there are their hands.

I promise you, I am not a creeper. Let me explain myself.

A priest’s hands are anointed with oil during Ordination. It’s a custom that began in the Old Testament and indicates that someone has been set apart for a sacred task or duty. Anointing the priest’s hands prepares his for anointing the sick, blessing people, and the offering of the bread and wine which become the Body and Blood of Jesus.

When a bishop anoints a priest’s hands, he says, "The Father anointed our Lord Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit.  May Jesus preserve you to sanctify the Christian people and to offer sacrifice to God."

A priest’s hands are holy. They are the instruments of the Consecration at Mass.

So when I see that seemingly never-ending entrance procession (or recessional, for that matter), I think about all these men who have given their lives to Christ for the sake of the Church.

And I prefer to look at that sea of bishops in exactly that light.