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Travel Diaries: Exploring Some of Negombo’s Churches

If you were to close your eyes and picture a sanctuary, what would come to mind? Would it be the comfort of your home, hidden from the stares of passersby? The nearest park, where you’re free to watch the squirrels scamper away while the cool breeze caresses your cheeks? A cemetery, where the sounds of silence are accompanied by the rustling leaves? Or perhaps your sanctuary lies in the loving embrace of someone who accepts you with open arms.

And if you’re a practicing Catholic, that sanctuary might be the nearest church.

In a practice that I jokingly refer to as “church-hopping,” my parents and I stop by several churches on our way to and back from Negombo, aptly named Little Rome for the vast number of Catholic churches in the area. Statues of the saints adorn most streets, and during feasts, Catholics participate in processions while churches erect quasi-maypoles with flags for the faithful to write their intentions.

Much like Buddhism and Hinduism, Catholicism, too, is an important part of Sri Lanka’s heritage. Bearing this in mind, I decided to cover three Catholic churches in and around Negombo that are certainly worth a visit during your travels.

Kurusa Palliya / Holy Cross National Shrine – Marawila

A photo taken at the entrance of the Marawila Church. Crowds of people are queuing on opposite sides of this small church, and devotees are kneeling on a path of cement for penance. The church is painted in a faint, almost pastel orange, and the words In Hoc Signo Vinces are presented on the exterior in silver lettering (which translates as In this sign thou shalt conquer). A steel cross adorns the top of the church spire. The skies are a clear shade of blue with minimal clouds, and the trees grown around the church provide shade to the faithful.
The entrance of the Kurusa Palliya

Only a stone’s throw from the sea lies the Kurusa Palliya—a humble shrine built atop sand, devoid of grandeur yet imbued with the hope of the faithful.

One of the most distinct features of the Kurusu Palliya is its cement path, upon which many practice “kneel-walking” to the communion rail while reciting the rosary or praying to themselves. It’s no easy feat—the start of the path burns under the blazing glare of the sun, and grit is sometimes strewn over the path when people walk on the surrounding sand, sometimes sharp enough to bruise and tear skin. But the dull ache in your knees is hardly on your mind as you press the rosary beads close to your heart and recall the Passion of Christ.

As these devotees seek penance, others form queues that lead to the shrine’s central statue of the crucified Christ. By the time you reach the statue, the beads of your sweat on your forehead become nothing more than a distant memory, for the Son of Man gazes down at His followers in indescribable pain, yet the look in His eyes is ever so kind.

Statue of the crucified Christ, described as above. Blood gushes from the wounds on His hands, knees, and side, and a photo of the clouds forms the backdrop for the wooden cross. On either side of the statue are plastic roses of white and red.
The statue of Christ benevolently gazing down at worshipers.

Originally, this statue was ordered from Bangalore, but it arrived in pieces. After claiming the insurance money, the parish priest at the time, Fr. Ferdinand Thiri, glued the statue with a special plaster imported from Germany in the early 1900s.

Of course, the Kurusa Palliya is no vision of grandeur—the church itself is so small, devoid of expensive decor; and the thought of queuing with others may not appeal to those who prefer easy convenience, but this humility always leaves a lasting impression on me, because it’s a testament to the faith of those who endure the pain of “kneel-walking” as though it’s nothing. And their steadfast belief is rewarded, because even the most earnest yet impossible desire can become a reality in the form of a miracle.

The miracles of the Kurusa Palliya are not the garish, pompous displays of money and jewels falling from the ceiling of an air-conditioned church frequented by the affluent. These aren’t sensationalized “miracles” of phones charging on command, money being deposited into bank accounts, and tame demons being cast out and televised for all to behold the might of the prophets.

Photograph from a corner of the church, where a statue of the seated Christ and a Samaritan woman lie beside a small well. This is where the devotees draw out holy water to take with them.
Statues depicting the scene where Jesus Christ asks the Samaritan woman for water from the well. Interestingly enough, this is where the faithful can gather holy water to take back home.

At a time when the children of the region were afflicted with a skin disease, a mother had prayed fervently and washed the feet of Jesus with water, and she’d carried some of this water back home for her child. It was through her faith that her child was healed when the water came into contact with the rash, and this drew the afflicted to the church.

It has since become a practice for Catholics and even others from all walks of life to visit the church and pray for miracles. No matter how small or insignificant you think your deepest desire may be, you can purchase a few votive candles from the bookshop, light them in the designated corner of the surrounding graveyard and pray for a miracle. After all, there is no discrimination here, and all that is good for you can happen—as long as you believe.

St Jude’s Church – Kurulukele

Photograph of the statue of St. Jude at the entrance of the Kurulukele Church. The statue is garbed in green and white robes that are accented with gold. The statue itself is rather worn at the bottom, perhaps from the flooding of the nearby lagoon. St. Jude bears a stern look on his face, and a club in one of his hands with a book in the other. The statue is surrounded by wild trees and greenery.
The statue of St. Jude, greeting all visitors as soon as you step inside the Kurulukele complex

The road less travelled leads to Seeduwa, where the Kurulekele Church promises salvation to the worn and weary by the Negombo Lagoon. In this tranquil spot, time stands still, and only birdsong accompanies the hush of the wind and the steady plop, plop, plop of the waters lapping at the shore.

Statues adorn every nook and cranny of these church grounds; as you walk past the entrance, you’ll find several statues of Christ and St. Jude, as well as my favorite—a replica of The Pietà, in which the Virgin Mary cradles the body of her son and mourns His mortal death.

A photograph of the exterior of the Kurulukele Church. The church is painted in a yellowish cream with a green roof, and statues of golden angels perch on either side of the cross that is placed at the highest point of the roof. In this particular photo, the pathways in which flowers and plants grow is the focus, and the church blends seamlessly with the greenery against the cloudy skies.
Perhaps not the best photo, but the church truly does blend seamlessly with the trees

The grounds split into several sections, but the main path leads to the Church, painted in cream and green, blending seamlessly with the backdrop of trees. Walk inside and you’ll find a sanctuary built of wood and a nave of wooden and plastic chairs. Though the church lacks kneelers, the faithful readily kneel on the floor without uttering a word of complaint.

Beside the church, you will see a little stone chapel containing statues of Jesus Christ, Mother Mary, and St. Jude, and if you so desire, you may spend a few minutes in adoration or silent prayer and leave a donation in the mite box.

A photograph of the interior of the chapel, wherein statues of Jesus Christ, Mother Mary and St. Jude beckon to the faithful. Apart from the stone walls, the floor, mite box, and other furniture within are made of wood.
The interior of the stone chapel

Should you exit and turn to the far left, you will find yourself on a cobblestone path that leads to tents, where statues of the saints are sheltered from the rain, along with gazebo-like complexes amid blossoming flowers, where the devout sit and quietly ask the saints to intercede for them—all while listening to the plop, plop, plop of the lagoon nearby.

It’s worth noting that this beautiful church began as a humble hut, and the main building you see today was completed in 2025. But although the Kurulukele Church boasts no grand history, it provides shelter and respite before one returns to the trials and tribulations of their daily life.

Photograph of one of the gazebo-like complexes in the Kurulukele complex. A statue of the Holy Family lies here beside pillars. St Joseph, garbed in brown and gold, has his hand on the young Jesus' shoulder, bearing a thoughtful look on his face, whereas the Virgin Mary, garbed in blue and white, has her palm outstretched, directing devotees' attention to the young Jesus, who dons pink robes.
One of the many statues adorning the Kurulukele Church complex. This one depicts the Holy Family.

Tip: The church grounds are crowded on Sundays and whenever services are underway, so consider visiting after 12.00PM for an opportunity to sit and pray without interruptions. Since the heat is quite high by then, it’s best to bring an umbrella or a hat.

 St Sebastian’s Church – Katuwapitiya

A photo of the Katuwapitiya Church. The building is painted in cream and a bluish grey, with a large cross adorning the roof of the church. Numerous trees are scattered around the church, providing shade from the sunlight.
The exterior of the Katuwapitiya Church

An uncharacteristic stillness lingers in the air around St. Sebastian’s Church in Katuwapitiya, where the silence is deafening when Mass is not underway, for although many years have passed them by, the tight-knit community of Catholics have vowed to never forget the lives that were lost in the Easter Sunday terror attacks.

On the 21st of April, 2019, the faithful gathered at the Katuwapitiya Shrine to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but men, women, and children alike lost their lives when a bomb was detonated on the church grounds. 117 souls suffered an untimely demise, and proof of their sacrifice is etched on the massive monument located to the left of the complex, where a statue of the resurrected Christ is displayed.

A stone memorial located outside the church, where the resurrected Christ has his arms outstretched toward Heaven, standing beside a circular monument containing all the names of the deceased. Flowers have been left here, and an inscription below reads as follows,

Safely Home
I am home in Heaven, dear ones;
Oh, so happy and so bright.
There is perfect joy and beauty
in this everlasting light.
All the pain and grief is over,
Every restless tossing passed,
I am now at peace forever,
Safely Home in Heaven at last.
The memorial bearing the names of the deceased

It would be crass to say that the church has been restored to its former glory—buildings can be rebuilt, but lives once lost cannot be regained. Though normalcy has returned to the Katuwapitiya Shrine, those left behind can never forget the loss of their loved ones—which is why I ask that you light a candle or offer a prayer for the departed and the living, too, as they await answers for the truth behind that tragedy.

When one heads inside, they may find stained glass windows, murals depicting the life of Christ, and an ornate altar that is visible from all sides where the devout congregate during each service.

The interior of the renovated church. The faithful sit on wooden pews, some of whom are kneeling. A dog rests sleepily in the aisle. Stone statues and stained glass windows adorn every corner of the church, and a mural depicting the Last Supper is painted at the top of the roof. A statue of St Sebastian is atop the altar with a backdrop of painted angels in Heaven.
The renovated interior of the church with the faithful and a stray dog who is at home inside.

Although the church is beautifully renovated, certain parts are preserved as a reminder to visitors—a part of a wall and a tiled floor are damaged with shrapnel from the blast, and a bloodied statue of Christ is carefully maintained in a glass cabinet.

But various other structures adorn the grounds, like a Lourdes grotto dedicated to the Virgin Mary, shrines for the saints, and a particularly prominent shrine for St. Sebastian, where many have tied coins with strips of white cloth. This is known as a baare—a pledge to the saints to pray on your behalf, indicating your resolve to fulfill a promise once your request has been answered by God.

A photo of a shrine on the church grounds, dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Enclosed in a stone fence and surrounded with plants, the shrine is painted blue with a small covering to protect the statue from the rain. The Virgin Mary stands, encased in glass, bearing the infant Jesus in her arms.
A shrine dedicated to the Virgin Mary outside the church building.

Final Thoughts

Given Little Rome‘s reputation, these aren’t the only churches in the vicinity that are worth visiting, and there are plenty of others that have yet to be explored. In fact, if I were to list all of the Catholic Churches in Negombo and their respective histories, we’d be here for quite a long time—and I wouldn’t even know how or where to start.

But if there’s one piece of advice I have to offer, it’s this: take the road less travelled, and stop by the churches that catch your eye during your travels. They might not be as grand as the ones you are used to, but even the most humble shrines are imbued with serenity. And well, who knows? One of them may become your sanctuary.

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