The blasphemy of political collusion is evident, and it is a call for Cardinal Ranjith to reclaim his sacred duty by renouncing his ties to temporal power and returning to the true mission of the Church.
Editorial
The drama is unfolding yet again on the stage, with no end in sight. This morning, at Katuwapitiya Church, where the sacred echoes of worship were once drowned out by the cacophony of violence on that fateful Easter Sunday in 2019, a darker spectre still haunts the hallowed ground. The victims of this unspeakable atrocity continue to suffer, not only from the loss of loved ones but also from the moral and spiritual betrayal festering in political manipulation. His Eminence, Malcolm Cardinal Ranjith, who should be a beacon of solace and justice for these grieving souls, now stands accused of political manoeuvring that stains the very cloth of his sacred office.
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| Fake it until you make it [donec id factus sis, id esse videre] |
This morning’s gathering at the same Katuwapitiya Church, attended by President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, reeks of opportunism. The symbolism of this meeting is not lost on those who remember the blood-soaked pews and the cries of the innocent. How could a place of such profound loss become the stage for yet another political spectacle? It is not merely a matter of insensitivity; it is a grotesque misalignment of priorities. Cardinal Ranjith, now extending his service under the Vatican’s grace, has allowed the pulpit to become a platform for power, rather than a refuge for truth. The Gospel sternly reminds us in Matthew 6:24, “No one can serve two masters.” Yet, here we find the Church, or at least its current leadership, courting temporal power while abandoning the eternal cause of justice.
What is even more disturbing is the Cardinal’s apparent alignment with the very forces that have commodified the Easter Sunday tragedy for political gain. The voice of a survivor—who refused to participate in the Mass upon seeing political figures such as President Dissanayake—rings out as a prophetic cry in the wilderness. This protest, though it may seem insignificant in local media or political circles, speaks volumes about the deep betrayal felt by those who demand accountability, not political grandstanding.
The Church, by its very nature, must be the voice of the oppressed and the marginalised. Christ Himself, in Luke 4:18, declared that He was sent “to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed.” And yet, where is the liberation for those who still seek justice for the bombings? Where is the transparency in the financial contributions that poured into the Church after the carnage? The accusations of financial opacity are not just bureaucratic quibbles—they cut to the heart of the Church’s credibility. The very institution that should embody Christ’s call for truth and righteousness has become, in this instance, a pawn in the chess game of political manoeuvring.
It is here that we must confront an uncomfortable truth: the Easter Sunday attacks, a moment of national and spiritual crisis, have been reduced to political currency. Successive governments have failed to provide clarity or accountability, and the Church’s leadership, rather than acting as a moral compass, has allowed itself to be complicit in this obfuscation. Two critical reports, submitted to the Attorney General’s Department by respected committees, remain shrouded in mystery. These reports, we are told, contain vital information about the negligence that allowed the attacks to happen, as well as the facts behind the deeper conspiracies that swirl around the event. Yet, rather than advocating for their release with the fierce determination of a shepherd defending his flock, Cardinal Ranjith remains entangled in a web of political alliances.
This collusion between the sacred and the secular is not only dangerous—it is heretical. The Book of Proverbs warns us in 17:15, “He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous are both alike an abomination to the Lord.” If the Church continues to play this “pathetic political game,” as some have called it, it risks becoming an abomination in the eyes of God and man. The Church, in its silence, is implicitly condemning the righteous pursuit of truth while justifying the wickedness of political expediency.
Cardinal Ranjith has no shame, for his record of political manipulation and bootlicking is well-documented, favouring whichever politician best serves his personal interests, often at the cost of the Catholic community in Sri Lanka.
The conspiracy theories surrounding the Easter Sunday attacks are not mere flights of fancy—they are fuelled by the very absence of facts. When those in power, whether political or religious, refuse to confront the truth, they leave a vacuum that is quickly filled by suspicion, fear, and extremism. The Church, once a bastion of stability, risks becoming complicit in the very violence it seeks to condemn by allowing these falsehoods to proliferate. For as long as the truth remains hidden, the cycle of violence will continue, not just in the form of bombs, but in the erosion of trust, faith, and justice.
Cardinal Ranjith has no shame, for his record of political manipulation and bootlicking is well-documented, favouring whichever politician best serves his personal interests, often at the cost of the Catholic community in Sri Lanka. His actions betray the very people he claims to shepherd, turning sacred spaces into platforms for power-hungry agendas. This shameful behaviour must be brought to an end. The Catholic Church is not a Hyde Park corner, where every Tom, Dick, and Harry can parade their political battles. It is a sacred place, where the faithful seek justice, freedom, and liberty, and where they must find refuge and confidence, even in their most intimate confessions. To degrade the Church into a political battleground is to desecrate the trust that binds it to the hearts of its people, and this desecration cannot be allowed to continue.
Cardinal Ranjith must, for the sake of his flock and his faith, renounce this unholy alliance with political power. He must demand the full release of the investigative reports and lead a movement of accountability, not just within the political realm, but within his own institution. The Church must return to its true calling—not as a political actor, but as the body of Christ on earth. The words of the prophet Amos ring out with undeniable clarity: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24). This is the task before the Church—to ensure that justice is not a dry trickle, controlled by the whims of political expediency, but an unstoppable flood that washes away corruption, deceit, and betrayal.
In this moment of profound crisis, the Church has a choice: continue down the path of complicity, or stand boldly for truth, even at the cost of political influence. The Easter Sunday victims deserve more than silence; they deserve the full force of the Church’s moral authority and financial transparency. Cardinal Ranjith, and indeed the entire Catholic hierarchy, must choose whom they serve—God or Caesar. The time for playing games is over. It is time for the Church to rise again as the voice of the voiceless, the defender of the oppressed, and the seeker of truth. Let it be so. Amen!
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