Conscience Protection Central to Peace and Security
by Andrea Picciotti-Bayer, guest contributor
This article is adapted from a talk Attorney Picciotti-Bayer gave at ACWPS in September 2025.
Unedited Photo of Erika Kirk by Gage Skidmore
When religious freedom is undermined, peace itself is destabilized. Protecting it secures peace at every level. On Sunday, when the grieving Erika Kirk spoke about the assassin of her husband Charlie Kirk, she shocked many when she said, “I forgive him.” This was an enormous act of forgiveness where there was justifiable reason for anger and retribution. It was also an act of peace at a time this nation needed it most. A government that protects people of faith like Erika to live freely benefits the entire nation. By contrast, when religious freedom is undermined, peace itself is destabilized. Protecting it secures peace at every level.
The Framers of the U.S. Constitution understood this. They did not see religion as a private eccentricity to be tolerated only in hushed corners. They saw it as a source of civic strength.
The First Congress opened with prayer and provided for chaplains without hesitation. George Washington, in his Farewell Address, cautioned against dismissing religion as irrelevant to morality and public happiness. James Madison, often called the father of the Constitution, argued that freedom of conscience was not only a personal right but also the safeguard of all other rights. He warned that governments which interfered with conscience would erode the very foundations of liberty. Even Thomas Jefferson, who famously coined the phrase “wall of separation between church and state,” also insisted that religion nurtured civic virtue. In his letter to the Danbury Baptists, Jefferson wrote that “freedom of religion is a precious right, and its protection is necessary to the health of a free society.”
Alexis de Tocqueville, the French observer who studied American democracy in the 1830s, saw this truth with piercing clarity. He wrote that religion was the “first of America’s political institutions,” not because it dictated policy, but because it shaped citizens—instilling habits of honesty, self-restraint, and neighborly concern. Religion directed the heart toward higher things, and by doing so, preserved liberty from collapsing into license. Religious freedom is not merely a safeguard of private devotion; it is the bedrock of civic stability.
When individuals and families are free to live according to conscience, they are free to act with integrity in public life. Peace is built on virtue, and virtue is nurtured in faith. When conscience is suppressed, trust erodes, societies fragment, and violence often ensues. We are seeing the consequences of the suppression of conscience here at home.
Here is where women come in. Women of faith—whether in the home, in the classroom, in the courtroom, or in public life—are often the first to witness to truth and the first to build peace. When women can live their beliefs freely, families are strengthened, communities stabilized, and nations flourish. When they are silenced, coerced, or excluded, society frays.
This is not only a political or legal issue. It is profoundly personal. Women of faith are witnesses, builders, and defenders of peace. They are often the ones who notice injustice first, who speak up when others remain silent, and who carry the quiet burden of nurturing society from the home outward.
Consider the Little Sisters of the Poor. Their mission is simple: to care for the elderly poor, to give dignity to those at the end of life who might otherwise be abandoned. Yet for more than a decade, they have had to defend in court their right to serve without violating their conscience. They never sought that fight. They did not set out to make headlines. They only wanted to live their vocation faithfully. But because the government insisted on coercing their ministry, they became a symbol of resistance. Their perseverance shows us something profound: women of faith are not obstacles to peace—they are its artisans. The peace they build does not come from avoiding conflict, but from living in truth even when it costs something. And the world notices. Their witness gives courage to countless others who face pressure to compromise their conscience.
Or consider Lori Smith, the Colorado designer behind 303 Creative. Lori is not a politician or a legal activist. She is a creative professional who wanted to design websites that reflect her faith. The state told her she must speak messages that violated her beliefs. She stood before the Supreme Court and said no—that her creative work should not be coerced by the state. Her courage reminds us that peace is not built on forced speech or compliance, but on the freedom to live truthfully. What is striking is not just her legal victory but her personal witness: she remained respectful, calm, and steadfast in the face of misunderstanding and hostility. That is the posture of peace.
And then there’s Jessica Bates, a widowed mother in Oregon raising five children. After losing her husband, she sought to foster children—an act of generosity born of faith and love. Yet she was told that her Christian beliefs disqualified her. Imagine the cruelty of that: children languishing in foster care, desperate for stability, while a willing mother is excluded because of her conscience. That case shows us something important: when religious freedom is denied, it is not abstract. It directly harms children who long for stability and love. The denial of conscience is not merely an injustice to adults; it creates suffering for the most vulnerable.
Behind these women are others—lawyers like Kristen Waggoner and Erin Hawley of Alliance Defending Freedom and Lori Windham at the Becket Fund—standing before the Supreme Court, defending their clients’ right to live by their conscience. They carry the legal burden so that others may live freely. Their work reminds us that peace is secured not through coercion, but through law ordered toward justice. The courtroom is not the only battlefield for freedom, but it is one of the most important. And it is women—brilliant, disciplined, courageous women—who are leading that fight.
Women legal scholars also help us see why this matters. Harvard’s Mary Ann Glendon long emphasized that religious freedom is not a “second-class right,” but the foundation of human dignity. Notre Dame’s Nicole Garnett has shown how faith-based schools, hospitals, and ministries serve communities, especially the poor, in ways government never could. George Mason’s Helen Alvaré writes persuasively about how faith, family, and freedom are inseparable—and how strong families are the foundation of a strong society. These women do more than publish books. They shape the intellectual soil in which courts, legislatures, and citizens alike come to understand why religious freedom matters. They give society the language to value conscience, family, and virtue.
Justice Amy Coney Barrett belongs in this company. In her new book Listening to the Law, she reflects on her faith, her family, and her deep respect for the rule of law. She writes candidly of how faith gives her strength, while reaffirming that for a judge, “the guiding principle in every case is what the law requires.” That resolve, she explains, is possible because of the humility faith imparts. And behind her public service is a large and loving family, sustaining her daily. For ordinary women of faith, there is much in her witness to admire—and to emulate.
We can also look to younger voices like Erika Kirk, whose life shows how women of faith build peace. Despite unimaginable grief, she continues to call women to be “life-givers”—to nurture, build, and heal in a divided world. Her witness reminds us that women of faith do not retreat from hardship; they engage it with truth and love. Erika shows that peace is not abstract. It is lived, moment by moment, in the small acts of courage, patience, and generosity that ripple outward into families, schools, and communities.
Together, these women remind us that when women of faith live freely, they nurture families, anchor communities, and strengthen the common good.
Many of the examples I’ve given—and the ones I am about to share—come from my own faith tradition as a Roman Catholic. It is the tradition that has formed me, and it offers countless models of women whose faith has shaped peace. But let me be clear: the vital contributions of other women of faith—Jewish, Protestant, Muslim, and more—are no less essential. Religious freedom belongs to all, and the peace it secures depends on the faithfulness of women across traditions.
In my own tradition, we look to the saints as models. Think of young martyrs like St. Agnes and St. Cecilia, or St. Joan of Arc, whose courage changed history. And yet, these saints are not distant figures. Their witness continues through ordinary women who emulate their courage, patience, and fidelity. Women who bring food to the hungry, counsel the discouraged, protect the vulnerable, and speak truth in times of moral confusion—they are living saints in their own right.
These stories—both contemporary and ancient—tell us something important: religious freedom is not an abstract principle. It is the space in which women of faith can flourish. And when they flourish, families are nurtured, children are secure, and communities are healed. Nations themselves are strengthened.
Religious freedom is not just a clause in the Bill of Rights. It is the foundation for peace and stability in every society. Where religious freedom flourishes, peace is possible; where it is restricted, conflict brews. History bears this out again and again As we reflect on women, peace, and security, we must not overlook the central role of religious freedom. Women of faith are the quiet architects of peace, the guardians of human dignity, the defenders of freedom.
Andrea Picciotti-Bayer is Director of the Conscience Project. A Stanford-educated lawyer, she has dedicated her legal career to civil rights and appellate advocacy. The Religious Freedom Institute named Andrea the recipient of its 2025 Religious Freedom Impact Award, a recognition given to “a leader whose life and work have demonstrated consistent, effective, and innovative leadership in advancing religious freedom in law, policy, or culture.”