Julian Coman’s recent piece on Andy Burnham resonated with me due to its emphasis on compassion and social responsibility for those in need. I share Burnham’s values, having also grown up as an altar boy. However, I diverge from the perspective that these principles are predominantly rooted in Catholicism.

My upbringing took place in the inner-city of Manchester during the era of Thatcher, within a working-class community grappling with unemployment, poverty, and substance abuse. My parents were not religious, yet they instilled in me a humanist perspective centered on empathy, justice, and our collective responsibilities to one another.

These ideals were further reinforced at my primary school, where children from various backgrounds learned together in a diverse setting. Upon reflection, religion played a minimal role in our everyday school life, as faith was generally viewed as a private matter. Our common understanding revolved around the belief that every individual deserves respect, fairness, and kindness. We learned to perceive each other not as representatives of differing faiths, but as fellow humans sharing a stake in our community and society.

This inclusive atmosphere fostered a sense of comfort and confidence in me regarding Britain as a multicultural society. Through our families, educators, and local community, we developed an appreciation for the secular institutions that united us, such as the NHS, social housing, and the welfare system. Children from long-established families studied alongside those whose families had recently settled here, yet there was a mutual recognition of the value embedded in these institutions—something to be honored, strengthened, and enhanced. The teachings of civic duty, inclusivity, and social justice were not drawn from religious doctrine; they were universal human lessons.

These values undoubtedly influenced my character, but they stemmed from a secular humanist background, my community, and the civic framework of Britain. While Coman notes the compassion in Burnham’s leadership may be influenced by his Catholic upbringing, it is essential to recognize that compassion, solidarity, and social responsibility transcend any single faith or belief system. The moral tradition worthy of celebration is the broader human one: the understanding that we thrive not in isolation but through our obligations to one another, irrespective of our beliefs.

Julia Coman’s article was uplifting. The faith communities I am familiar with actively engage in political matters, social justice, and homelessness initiatives. At a recent local Labour party meeting, I observed the presence of two Methodists (myself included), several Catholics, and a couple of Quakers.

Coman references the Methodist perspective that Margaret Thatcher inherited from her father. However, it is evident that Mrs. Thatcher did not fully embrace her Methodist heritage. Our founder, John Wesley, proclaimed, “The gospel of Christ knows of no religion but social; no holiness but social holiness.” Thus, when she asserted, “there is no such thing as society,” she was neglecting her Methodist roots. More critically, she was mistaken and contributed to the rise of individualism.

Julian Coman’s insights align closely with my views. As my mother, Peggy Brown, wisely expressed, “The problem with Christianity is that no one has ever really tried it.” While I continue to struggle with this notion, perhaps Andy Burnham will succeed in embodying integrity and hope amidst the challenges of political division and self-interest.

Andy Burnham stands as Britain’s first lifelong Roman Catholic prime minister. While Tony Blair converted to Catholicism during his tenure, and Boris Johnson was baptized a Catholic before later converting to Anglicanism, Burnham’s faith is intrinsic to his identity.

For centuries, following the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century until the repeal of the Penal Laws in the early 19th century, Roman Catholics in Britain faced significant restrictions on their economic, political, and religious rights. They were barred from holding civil or military positions, receiving education, voting, or pursuing professions. Until 2013, a British royal could not marry a Catholic, and the current monarch remains prohibited from being a Catholic.

Now, in 2026, we have a Catholic prime minister who acknowledges the importance of his faith in shaping his governance. If this background influences his leadership, we may witness a commitment to the common good and the application of the Catholic Church’s social teachings, including prioritizing the needs of the poor and vulnerable, honoring human dignity, recognizing the value of work and workers’ rights, fostering family and community, promoting peace and solidarity, and caring for the environment.

Let us extend our best wishes to Andy Burnham as he endeavors to cultivate a just and equitable society.

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