America's Most Powerful Catholic Woman Announces Retirement from Congress

When America’s most powerful Catholic woman announced her retirement from Congress, she did so quoting her city’s patron St. Francis: “Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace."

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On Thursday, Speaker Emerita Nancy Pelosi announced her retirement from the United States Congress in a video where she quoted words attributed to the patron of her city St. Francis of Assisi: “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”

It was a grace note capping a four-decade career marked by groundbreaking public service, deep Catholic roots, and even battles with church hierarchy that she faced with devotion and defiance in equal measure.

Pelosi’s life in public office has always been intertwined with her Catholic identity.

A Baltimore native raised in a devout Italian-American family — her father and later her brother both served as mayor — she grew up steeped in Catholic social teaching and community service.

In 1954, as a teenager, she accompanied her father to the Vatican, a formative pilgrimage that foreshadowed a lifetime of engagement with the Church.

Nancy Pelosi, then 14, was in the white outfit.

As a college student in 1961, Nancy D’Alesandro stood face-to-face with President John F. Kennedy, the first Catholic U.S. president.

That encounter, along with Kennedy’s inaugural call to public service, helped inspire Pelosi’s own “why” — the moral purpose driving her career.

Years later she would tell students that her public service was rooted in Gospel values: the plight of the poor and vulnerable drew her “from the kitchen to the Congress” to fight for those in need.

Faith and public life in action

Pelosi often speaks of her faith as the wellspring of her political vision. She cites Scripture and Catholic social doctrine to frame policies on poverty, climate, and immigration.

Indeed, one renowned veteran faith leader observed that Pelosi frequently invokes the Gospel of Matthew “to make moral arguments,” noting, “You have been successful because you have been faithful.”

Pelosi’s career has spanned the reign of four popes, and she engaged each in turn.

She praised Pope St. John Paul II as “one of the greatest spiritual and humanitarian leaders of our time,” and she built a particularly warm rapport with Pope Francis on issues like climate change and economic justice, often quoting Francis’ encyclical Laudato Si’ on the House floor.

At the same time, she was unafraid to challenge church leaders when conscience demanded.

After a 2009 meeting with Pope Benedict XVI, the Vatican noted that Benedict urged Pelosi — an “ardent” Catholic who supports abortion rights — to enact laws protecting life “at all stages of its development.”

Pelosi respectfully acknowledged the Church’s teaching, even as she maintained her pro-choice stance, arguing that her broader record “fighting poverty, hunger, and global warming” was also part of a consistent ethic of life.

More recently, she openly criticized Pope Francis’s diplomatic deal with communist China, saying the Vatican “disregarded the Gospel” by allowing Beijing a say in bishop appointments.

Aligning herself with persecuted Chinese Catholics and the outspoken conservative Cardinal Joseph Zen, Pelosi declared her viewpoint “closer to the cardinal of Hong Kong” than to the pope on that issue.

Such rare public dissent underscored that Pelosi’s fidelity to human-rights principles could even put her at odds with the Vatican itself.

Clashes, communion, and a Vatican II legacy

Perhaps nowhere was Pelosi’s complex dance with the Catholic hierarchy more visible than in her home diocese.

In 2022, San Francisco’s Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone barred her from receiving Holy Communion over her support for abortion rights. Pelosi did not waver.

Within weeks, she traveled to Rome and, in a defiant show of unity with the wider Church, received the Eucharist at a papal Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica.

The image of Pelosi taking communion in the Vatican — even as she was banned in San Francisco — became an emblem of the rift between a progressive Catholic laity and certain conservative bishops.

It also highlighted her bond with Pope Francis, who has pointedly refused to weaponize the sacraments.

Francis, when asked about denying communion to pro-choice politicians, remarked that “Communion is not a prize for the perfect” but medicine for the soul — a view Pelosi certainly embraces.

Despite tensions, Pelosi frequently expressed admiration for Pope Francis’ pastoral approach and social justice focus. She met him several times, including a private audience in 2021, thanking him for his “immense moral clarity” on climate change and global solidarity.

And though clashes with clerics like Archbishop Cordileone grabbed headlines, Pelosi’s memoir and interviews reveal a leader who sees herself very much within the Church, battling for its soul.

She has said that the Church’s mission to “make room for the little ones” — the poor, the marginalized — must always remain central, and she took up the mantle of the Second Vatican Council by insisting that lay Catholics have a duty to engage in public life at the highest levels.

In announcing her retirement, Pelosi once again bridged her faith and public service. “I have always honored the soul of San Francisco — ‘Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace,’ the anthem of our city,” she said, quoting St. Francis in her farewell message.

It was a fitting benediction for a career that made history on Capitol Hill while hearkening to the humble saint from Assisi.

Nancy Pelosi’s story is far richer than the caricatures of cable news — it is the story of an ardent Catholic who often disagreed with Church leaders, yet never stopped loving the faith that shaped her.

From meeting a pope as a little girl to sparring with cardinals as Speaker, from marching with the Nuns on the Bus to praying quietly for guidance before contentious votes, Pelosi has lived out what she calls a “higher calling” in politics.

As she steps aside with a grateful heart, she leaves a legacy as a Catholic legend of the modern era — a living witness to the idea that one can “know your ‘why’” in public service and stay true to it, come what may.

In Nancy Pelosi’s case, that “why” was rooted in the Gospel and a love for those whom society overlooks.

Her retirement announcement today, marked by the Prayer of St. Francis, reminds us that even in the rough and tumble of politics, she strove to be an instrument of peace — and that, in her own words, is “the soul of Saint Francisco” she always tried to honor.

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