The Cost of Conversion, the Fall of a Pontiff, and the Choice Before America
By Tania Curado-Koenig
I was the first in my entire family—on both my mother’s and father’s side—to be born again. Raised in a deeply traditional Roman Catholic household in Brazil, with roots that included nuns and priests, my encounter with Jesus came not through religious ritual, but through the preaching of the Word—thanks to American missionaries who brought the Gospel with clarity and power. When I gave my life to Christ, everything changed. And the cost was immediate.
My grandfather called me anátema—cursed—and barred me from his home. I was forbidden from attending family birthdays, reunions, or holidays. I had not just changed religions. In their eyes, I had betrayed a legacy. But I had encountered the living Christ, and I could not turn back. He is the Author and Finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2), and He gave me the courage to stand. Over time, the very same Gospel that cost me so much brought salvation to many in my family. Several were born again and baptized. The seed had been planted, and it bore fruit.
But let me be clear: what I left behind was not just tradition—it was a system that encouraged idolatry and resisted the true Word of God. The spirit behind that resistance is not neutral. It is religious, yes—but not holy. And today, as news breaks that Pope Francis has died, I say this not with hate nor joy, but with solemnity: only God knows where his soul went.
The Bible is explicit. There is Heaven or Hell—no middle ground, no purgatory, and no salvation by works.
“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.” (Ephesians 2:8–9)
For years, I watched as Pope Francis turned his back on biblical truth. He openly supported Brazil’s radical leftist leader Lula da Silva, embraced Maduro’s brutal regime in Venezuela, and elevated socialist ideologies over the cries of the persecuted. He went even further—aligning the Vatican with global forces that undermined Israel’s legitimacy and promoted Palestinian statehood. He stood not with the covenant of God, but with those who seek to divide the land of promise.
Under his leadership, many in Brazil abandoned the Catholic Church—not because of revival, but because of disillusionment. Even among the faithful, there was an unease. They could no longer reconcile the Pope’s Marxist alliances with their lived realities under dictatorship and economic collapse.
I was raised under Brazil’s military regime. I understand what it means to watch your country bend toward tyranny. What I find deeply troubling today is not just the silence of the Church—but the complicity of Western leaders. Just yesterday, the Vice President of the United States, Vance, visited Pope Francis and said nothing. He also met with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi and failed to mention the ongoing persecution of Christians under the Hindu nationalist regime.
There is a dangerous spirit of ecumenism rising—a false unity that embraces every faith except the one that dares to say Jesus is the only way. America must not bow to it. The Church must not bow to it.
This is a moment of reckoning. Will we stand for truth, or will we allow the lines between light and darkness to blur beyond recognition?
As for Pope Francis, his earthly legacy may be praised by the media, but eternity is not decided by applause. It is decided by the Cross. And no one—not even a pontiff—enters Heaven apart from Jesus.
Let this moment awaken the Church. Let it remind us that truth matters, that grace is everything, and that our loyalty must be to the Lamb, not to man.
“Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under Heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12)