By Tony Newman
The past week has seen two political leaders, both Catholic, face scrutiny over their public expressions of faith.
In Australia, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s decision to affirm, rather than swear on a Bible, during his swearing-in ceremony has unleashed vocal criticism of him leading some to question whether his faith is genuine.
Simultaneously, in Rome, US Vice President JD Vance’s decision not to kneel and kiss the papal ring when he met Pope Leo XIV in St Peter’s Basilica at the end of the pope’s inauguration Mass has sparked similar debate. Both instances, while seemingly disparate, highlight the delicate balance between personal faith and public office.
Albanese, has in recent times reembraced the faith of his childhood. He regularly attends Mass and often speaks about the role that the church has played in his life. After years of politicians playing down, or worse, avoiding the church, it is encouraging to hear and see them embracing their faith again. This should be supported.
Despite the revival of his life of faith, when the moment arrived to publicly affirm his commitment to the nation, he opted for a secular affirmation.
While understandable, his reasoning that he is Prime Minister for all Australians, regardless of faith is mistaken because inclusivity does not require the abandonment of one’s own beliefs. Authentic inclusivity not only permits, but embraces and even encourages, the expression of a person’s beliefs.
The act of swearing on a Bible is not a symbol of religious exclusivity, nor is it a declaration of religious supremacy. At a personal level, it is an indication a leader views their leadership as a stewardship of the gifts of a higher power.
At a public level, it acknowledges the historical and cultural significance of Christianity and is a recognition of the Christian heritage that has shaped our civilisation, including Australia’s legal and political frameworks. For example, despite numerous attempts to have it abolished, the Lord’s Prayer is still recited at the beginning of each parliamentary day.
To suggest that a public display of one’s faith is inherently disrespectful to those of other faiths or no faith is a false dichotomy.
Respecting diversity does not mean erasing one’s own identity. In fact, true respect often stems from an honest and unashamed embrace of one’s own background. Albanese could have affirmed his own faith, and thus the faith of many Australians, whilst still vowing to serve all.
In so doing, he could have indicated the government’s commitment to a religious freedom that does not require a person to put their faith aside in order to hold public office.
Similarly, JD Vance’s encounter with Pope Leo has raised eyebrows. As a Catholic, he is part of a tradition that values reverence and respect for the Holy Father. His explanation – that he was present as a political leader, not a spiritual son – attempts to compartmentalise his identity.
The notion that one must shed one’s religious identity upon entering public office is a dangerous fallacy. Catholics, like members of any faith, carry their values and beliefs with them.
These values inform their understanding of justice, compassion, and human dignity. To suggest that a simple act of reverence, like kneeling to kiss the papal ring, compromises one’s position as a political leader over their membership of the church misses the point of the separation of church and state. It protects the state from religious interference, not the individual from expressing their faith.
The argument that such gestures are mere “tradition” also misses the point. Traditions are not empty rituals; they are tangible expressions of deeply held beliefs and communal identity.
For Catholics, the papal ring is a symbol of Peter’s successor, a figure of unity and spiritual authority. To refuse this gesture, especially in a personal encounter, is to reject a fundamental aspect of Catholic identity.
While many have been quick to point fingers, none have stopped to consider why both men might have arrived at their reasons for acting this way. It’s important to note that Albanese was raised in a period of significant societal and religious flux, and where the public expression of faith was often viewed with skepticism.
It’s plausible that he was never thoroughly presented with the arguments advocating the importance of publicly living one’s faith as an elected official. Similarly, JD Vance, is an adult convert to Catholicism. He may not have had the same foundational understanding of the nuanced traditions and public expressions of Catholic identity as someone raised within the church.
This is not to excuse their actions, but rather to contextualise them. Instead of resorting to immediate criticism, this presents an opportunity for Catholics to engage in constructive dialogue, explaining the significance of external expressions of faith.
Both Albanese and Vance, in their attempts to navigate the complexities of faith and public office, have opted for a secularised approach, one that sacrifices personal conviction for political safety, separating their public personas from their personal beliefs, and in the process opened themselves up to charges of insincerity and political calculus.
The true challenge for individuals in public office is not to suppress their faith but to integrate it into their service for the common good, to allow their values to inform their decisions while respecting the diversity of the society they serve. Denying one’s faith in the public square is not a sign of inclusivity, but a symptom of a culture that increasingly marginalises religious expression.
It is possible, indeed desirable, for a leader to be both devout and inclusive. To affirm one’s faith, whether through swearing on a Bible or kissing the papal ring, is not an act of exclusion, but a testament to the integrity of one’s identity.
It is a reminder that faith, far from being a private matter, can be a powerful force for good in the public sphere. Both men missed the opportunity to show the world that faith and service can go hand in hand.