By: Isuru Parakrama
July 28, Colombo (LNW): In a recent speech at St. Anne’s Church in Beruwala, the Archbishop of Colombo, Cardinal Malcolm Ranjith, made a series of remarks that were not only deeply troubling but also fundamentally flawed in their moral, theological, and logical underpinnings.
Speaking against same-sex marriage, the Cardinal described it as a “corrupt ideology” and claimed it undermines traditional family values. Such statements, though perhaps cloaked in concern for moral order, betray a regressive worldview that fails to grasp both the dignity of queer lives and the evolving understanding of human rights.
To begin with, the Cardinal’s assertion that same-sex marriage is “not a human right” is patently false. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) does not list every specific right by name, but it does affirm the right to marry and to found a family. International human rights law, over the past few decades, has grown to recognise that these rights must be afforded equally to all people, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity.
Numerous courts and human rights bodies across the globe have affirmed that denying same-sex couples the right to marry is a form of unjust discrimination. If marriage is a human right for heterosexuals, it must also be so for everyone else.
Cardinal Ranjith cannot have it both ways. In previous statements, he rightly affirmed that people of diverse SOGIESC (sexual orientation, gender identity and expression, and sex characteristics) should not be discriminated against. But by opposing marriage equality and framing same-sex love as a threat to society, he is doing exactly that—perpetuating a form of systemic exclusion.
Article 12 (1) and (2) of the Constitution of Sri Lanka, as reiterated multiple times by the Attorney General’s Department throughout the past decade, guarantees safe passageway to the rights of SOGIESC people, and any law criminalising their behaviour, therefore, would be unconstitutional. Moreover, the Supreme Court of Sri Lanka has produced a very clear determination that consensual same-sex sexual relations between adults neither violate the Constitution, nor would have an adverse impact on national security by destroying individuals, families, communities, economic and socio-political institutions, and any law decrminalising them, therefore, can be passed into law via a simple majority in Parliament.
The suggestion that queer people be afforded dignity, so long as they do not seek public recognition of their love or families, is not acceptance. It is conditional tolerance, the kind that keeps queer people in the shadows, in fear, and in shame. In essence, it is a call to live in secrecy, to love behind closed doors, and to be silent in the face of moral judgement from a pulpit of supposed compassion.
Moreover, his rhetorical question—“How can two men build a family?”—reveals a wilful ignorance of the many ways in which love, care, and commitment are expressed in modern families. Same-sex couples around the world are raising children with love, patience, and resilience—often in the face of hostility from those very institutions that claim to uphold family values. If a family is defined by nurture, mutual respect, and stability, then surely it is those principles that matter, not the gender configuration of the parents.
The claim that traditional marriages were inherently more stable because they were arranged and guided by elders also falls apart under scrutiny. Marital stability cannot and should not be conflated with marital success or happiness.
Many traditional marriages, especially those brokered without the full consent or understanding of the individuals involved, were (and still are) fraught with power imbalances, abuse, and lifelong dissatisfaction. That they “lasted” says little about their moral superiority and much about the social and economic pressures that made leaving them impossible.
The Cardinal’s comments also perpetuates a false narrative about the struggles faced by SOGIESC communities in Sri Lanka. None of the movements advocating for queer rights demand the right-to-marry. This is mainly because being queer in Sri Lanka is deemed a criminal offence in itself, and the slogan is very clear that decriminalisation of consensual same-sex relations between adults would be necessary for the safeguarding of rights.
The real issue here is that Cardinal Ranjith is clinging to a narrow, static vision of human society in a world that is increasingly diverse, open, and complex. He invokes “moral and spiritual understanding” without acknowledging that morality must be rooted in compassion, justice, and respect for the dignity of all people. Spirituality cannot be authentic if it demands the erasure of people’s identities or forces them into lives of secrecy and pain.
There is nothing morally righteous about denying love. There is nothing holy about excluding people from one of the most fundamental human experiences—building a life with another person. And there is nothing “corrupt” about two people of the same gender choosing to stand up and declare their commitment to one another in the face of so much adversity.
The Cardinal’s comments are not just misguided—they are dangerous. They give moral cover to discrimination, embolden bigotry, and alienate vulnerable people from the very institutions that claim to be sources of comfort and guidance. At a time when queer people in Sri Lanka and across the world are still fighting for legal protection, social acceptance, and safety, such rhetoric pushes them further into the margins.
If the Church is to have any relevance in the modern world, it must open its heart, not tighten its grip on outdated dogma. Love—real, mutual, committed love—is not the enemy of tradition. It is its evolution. And the sooner religious leaders recognise that, the closer they will be to the true message of the faith they profess to uphold.
