Catholics everywhere squirm at the ostentatious piety of Pelosi

When Miranda Devine wrote, “Catholics everywhere squirm at the ostentatious piety of Pelosi and her fellow apostate Joe Biden. If they must sin, can they at least keep religion out of it?” she was not merely making a political jest — she was striking at the ancient tension between faith and hypocrisy, between the appearance of holiness and the substance of it. Her words are sharp, yes, but beneath their sting lies a question that echoes through the ages: What does it mean to profess faith while acting in contradiction to it? It is a question as old as religion itself — the struggle between the outer show of virtue and the inner truth of conscience.

In this statement, Devine calls out what she perceives as performative piety — the public display of devotion by those whose actions, in her view, betray the very moral teachings of the faith they claim. To her, such behavior is not mere inconsistency; it is a distortion of what is sacred. When she says that “Catholics everywhere squirm,” she evokes the discomfort of believers who see their creed — humble, penitential, ancient — wielded as a banner by those who bend its principles to their will. Her use of the word “apostate” is deliberate and heavy with judgment. It recalls the language of old — when to forsake one’s faith in word or deed was to sever oneself from divine truth.

Throughout history, this struggle between the appearance of holiness and the reality of faith has recurred like a haunting refrain. In the time of Christ himself, it was the Pharisees — learned, righteous, outwardly perfect — who were rebuked most fiercely, not for lack of belief, but for the theater of belief. “Woe unto you,” the Scriptures say, “for you cleanse the outside of the cup, but within you are full of greed and self-indulgence.” Devine’s words strike from this same well of ancient indignation. Her criticism is not of sin itself — for all are fallible — but of using the cloak of religion to sanctify contradiction.

Yet, her tone also reflects a modern anguish: the politicization of faith. In the halls of power, where words carry the weight of nations, religion often becomes a tool, a token, or a stage prop. Leaders invoke the sacred not as a compass, but as a crown — seeking moral authority without moral surrender. In Devine’s rebuke, one hears the lament of the faithful who fear that religion, when mixed with ambition, loses its purity. The sacred becomes spectacle. Faith, when wielded for image rather than humility, becomes not a bridge to heaven but a mirror for vanity.

But let us look deeper, beyond judgment, to the timeless truth hidden within her provocation. The problem she names is not new — it is human. Every faith, every age, has seen its believers stumble between devotion and deceit, confession and pride. The danger lies not in imperfection, but in the refusal to acknowledge it. Hypocrisy is not merely sin; it is the denial of sin, wrapped in the language of sanctity. To sin and repent is human; to sin and sanctify the sin with false holiness is a corruption of the divine.

The lesson, therefore, is not to cast stones, but to seek integrity — that sacred alignment between belief and behavior, word and deed. If one must speak of faith, let it be lived before it is declared. If one must invoke the divine, let it be from humility, not from pride. The ancients taught that the holiest prayer is not shouted in the temple, but whispered in secret — where no applause can follow, and no eye but God’s can see. True faith is quiet strength, not public spectacle.

So, to those who live in the glare of the world — in politics, in power, in influence — let this be counsel: do not parade the sacred. For faith is not a jewel to be flaunted, but a flame to be guarded. Live it in honesty; defend it in truth; and let your actions speak what your lips need not proclaim. For, as history teaches, the mightiest empires and the proudest priests have fallen not for their unbelief, but for their pretense.

And thus, the wisdom of Miranda Devine’s words — harsh though they may sound — serves as a mirror to all who claim to walk in the light: let the light shine from within, or not at all. For faith without humility is theater, and virtue without sincerity is vanity. And when religion becomes a costume instead of a covenant, the sacred becomes profane — and the soul, no matter how adorned, stands bare before eternity.