If you were among the thousands gathered at St. Peter’s Basilica for Pope Francis’s funeral, you might have witnessed a quietly extraordinary moment: an elderly nun, green backpack slung over her shoulder, standing in silent prayer beside Pope Francis’s coffin, tears streaming down her face. That nun was Sister Geneviève Jeanningros—a trailblazer for LGBTQ+ inclusion in the Catholic Church, a bridge-builder for marginalized communities, and, by all accounts, one of Pope Francis’s closest friends. Her life’s work has been bringing the Church’s most marginalized—circus workers, Roma, the homeless, transgender women, and LGBTQIAP+ people—into the heart of the Vatican.
A life lived among the margins
Born in France and a member of the Little Sisters of Jesus, Geneviève Jeanningros has spent over 56 years living in a caravan among circus and carnival workers, primarily in Ostia, a seaside suburb of Rome. Her vocation is rooted in the charism of Charles de Foucauld: to live simply, humbly, and in solidarity with the “little ones” of society. She shares her caravan with another sister, Anna Amelia Giacchetto, and together they have made a home among those most often overlooked by both Church and society.
The woman who bypassed Vatican protocol to see the body of Pope Francis in St Peter’s Basilica is Sister Geneviève Jeanningros, niece of Léonie Duquet, one of the French nuns kidnapped during the last Argentine dictatorship. pic.twitter.com/QClQPSSVQw
— Corta 🏆 (@somoscorta) April 23, 2025
Jeanningros’s commitment is not merely theoretical. She is a fixture in the lives of those she serves—helping with food, bills, medical care, and, crucially, companionship. Her ministry extends to circus performers, fairground workers, Roma families, and especially transgender women, many of whom are also engaged in sex work and face layers of exclusion. For decades, she has been a lifeline for these communities, offering not just material aid but dignity and spiritual belonging.
A personal history marked by tragedy and resistance
Geneviève’s activism is also shaped by her family history. She is the niece of Léonie Duquet, a French nun who was kidnapped and murdered during Argentina’s military dictatorship in the 1970s—a regime Pope Francis (then Jorge Mario Bergoglio) also witnessed closely. This shared legacy of resistance to oppression and advocacy for human rights forged a bond between Jeanningros and Francis that would only deepen with time.
How Sister Geneviève Jeanningros and Pope Francis became friends
Their friendship predates Francis’s papacy, tracing back to his days as Archbishop of Buenos Aires. Both were marked by the wounds of Argentina’s dictatorship and a shared commitment to the most vulnerable. Francis, who affectionately called her his enfant terrible for her rebellious spirit, found in Geneviève Jeanningros a kindred soul—someone unafraid to challenge convention for the sake of compassion.
When Francis was elected pope, their connection only intensified. Every Wednesday, Jeanningros would bring groups of “the last ones”—circus workers, the homeless, transgender women—to the Vatican’s general audiences. Not only did Francis welcome them, he invited them to lunch, offered financial support, and, on at least one historic occasion, visited the amusement park in Ostia to bless a statue and meet the community in person.
A bridge to the LGBTQ+ community
Jeanningros’s most remarkable legacy may be her role as a bridge between the Church and the LGBTQ+ community. She has regularly accompanied groups of transgender women and gay men to meet Pope Francis, especially during and after the COVID-19 lockdown, when many lost work and faced destitution. Through her advocacy, the Vatican provided food, medical care, and even early access to vaccines for these communities.
But it wasn’t just about material aid. For many, these audiences represented the first time they felt truly seen and welcomed by the Church. “They love him so much because this is the first time trans and gay people have been welcomed by a pope,” Jeanningros told Vatican News. “They thanked him because they finally found a church that went out to meet them”.
Francis himself acknowledged the importance of this ministry, stating, “They come from the hand of Sister Geneviève Jeanningros… But they are daughters of God! [God] still loves you just like that, just the way you are. Jesus teaches us not to set limits”.
Pope Francis and the LGBTQ+ community: A complex embrace
Pope Francis’s relationship with the LGBTQ+ community has been, in a word, transformative—though not without controversy. His now-famous “Who am I to judge?” remark in 2013 marked a seismic shift in the Church’s tone, if not its doctrine. Under his leadership, the Vatican has taken steps toward greater inclusion: encouraging parents to embrace their gay children, supporting blessings for same-sex couples, and apologising for derogatory language used in private.
Yet, Francis also maintained the Church’s traditional teachings that homosexual acts are sinful, and he occasionally used language or made statements that drew criticism from LGBTQ+ advocates. Still, for many, his willingness to meet, listen, and bless LGBTQ+ individuals—often at the instigation of Sister Geneviève Jeanningros—was a radical act of pastoral charity.
The power of presence: Breaking protocol at the pope’s funeral
When Pope Francis died at the age of 88, the world watched as dignitaries, cardinals, and bishops filed past his coffin in St. Peter’s Basilica. But it was Sister Geneviève’s quiet defiance of protocol—stepping out of line, standing for minutes in prayer and tears by her friend’s side—that captured the essence of their relationship. No Swiss Guard, no Vatican official dared interrupt her. Her presence was a tacit acknowledgment of a friendship that transcended rules—a final act of love and solidarity.
Her gesture was more than personal. It symbolised the heart of Francis’s pontificate: closeness, inclusion, and a Church willing to break its own barriers for the sake of compassion.
A lasting legacy: What Sister Geneviève teaches us
Sister Geneviève Jeanningros’s life is a living rebuke to a Church and a world too often content with exclusion. She reminds us that the margins are not just places of suffering but of profound grace and renewal. Her friendship with Pope Francis, her advocacy for the LGBTQ+ community, and her willingness to break protocol in the name of love are testaments to a faith that is, at its best, radically inclusive.
As the world remembers Pope Francis, it is impossible to separate his legacy from the courage and tenderness of the nun with the green backpack. In a Church obsessed with rules, she embodied the Gospel’s invitation to draw near to the “least of these.” And in doing so, she changed not just the lives of those she served—but perhaps the very heart of the Church itself.
So, next time you see a nun in a crowd, backpack slung over her shoulder, remember: she just might be the one who brings the world’s forgotten into the very centre of power—and leaves it changed forever.
