Why Join If You Will Not Change?

Joining Means Belonging

When a man or woman raises their right hand and takes the oath to defend the Constitution as a member of the United States Armed Forces, they enter something greater than themselves. From that moment, their life is ordered under the Uniform Code of Military Justice—the UCMJ—a thick, precise book outlining how every service member is to act, serve, and be held accountable. It doesn’t matter whether you wear Army green, Navy blue, Air Force silver, Marine Corps dress blues, or the Space Force delta—every single member of the Department of Defense is governed by the same code.

Most learn quickly that the UCMJ is not a suggestion; it’s the law. If something isn’t covered specifically by a numbered article, there’s always Article 134—“General Article.” That’s the military’s catch-all, the reminder that even when you think you’ve found a loophole, integrity still applies. Show disrespect to an NCO, ignore an order, or display behavior that dishonors your uniform, and you can find yourself at Non-Judicial Punishment—what the Marines call Office Hours, the Navy calls Captain’s Mast, and the Army calls Article 15. Usually, that means a reduction in rank, forfeiture of one months pay, and restriction to quarters.

Some don’t like those rules. They finish their enlistment honorably, leave the service, and live happy civilian lives. That’s fair—they realized that to remain in the military means to live by its code, and they chose otherwise. But the principle is simple: when you join something, you accept its structure, discipline, and expectations. Fundamentally speaking, all servicemembers “change” their lifestyles, their identity must adhere to the service branch they choose to serve in. You can’t wear the uniform and live contrary to the military lifestyle.

The Church Has a Code Too

The Catholic Church, founded by Christ Himself, also has a code—Canon Law—a living reflection of God’s divine law applied within His Body, the Church. These canons are not arbitrary restrictions; they exist to preserve the dignity of the sacraments and the integrity of the faith. When we become Catholic, we do more than fill out a registration card—we enter a covenant. We profess belief that this Church is the one founded by Christ and that her teachings are true, timeless, and binding.

So it raises a sobering question: Why would anyone join the Catholic Church if they have no intention of being changed by her truth? If one’s lifestyle directly contradicts the moral law of God—if it stands opposed to Scripture and the Church’s constant teaching—then “joining” becomes little more than a public gesture, an act of vanity rather than conversion.

Is it about a photo opportunity? The appearance of faith? The allure of being “the first” something? Perhaps. But the Catholic Church is not a backdrop for political theater or social validation—it is the mystical Body of Christ, where sinners come to die to self and rise to new life. To approach her sacraments while refusing conversion is not an act of faith; it is a form of sacrilege.

Backseat Bishops and the Limits of Judgment

Now, before anyone becomes a “backseat bishop,” let’s acknowledge a truth: most of us have no idea what a day in the life of a bishop is like. Their calendars are unrelenting—liturgies, confirmations, diocesan administration, personnel issues, crises, letters, appointments, national meetings, and the pastoral care of souls. They do not have the time or energy to chase every online critic or correct every misinformed Catholic voice.

But bishops are not free agents; they are successors to the apostles. They have the sacred duty to “teach, sanctify, and govern” in fidelity to Christ. This includes ensuring that their priests and deacons do not knowingly administer the sacraments to those who publicly persist in grave sin. If that occurs—and it is widely known—then those sacraments become invalid or illicit according to canon law, for grace cannot dwell where repentance is rejected.

As the Catechism reminds us, “The sacraments are for those who believe.” They presuppose faith and a willingness to conform one’s life to Christ. When someone receives a sacrament while obstinately persisting in grave sin, it is not an act of holiness but a contradiction of it. The outward ceremony may be impressive, but inwardly the grace is resisted. In simple terms—it “does not take.”

Correction Within Charity and Canon Law

It is true that every Catholic—clergy and laity alike—has an obligation to defend the faith and “instruct the ignorant” (one of the spiritual works of mercy). Canon Law itself, in Canon 212 §3, affirms that “the Christian faithful have the right and sometimes the duty to manifest to their pastors their opinion on matters which pertain to the good of the Church.” But this same canon adds that such expression must always be made “with reverence toward their pastors, and attentive to the common good and the dignity of persons.”

In other words, how we speak is just as important as what we say. To use social media as a weapon—to insult, ridicule, or defame bishops, priests, or the Holy Father—is not correction; it is contempt. Such behavior violates the virtue of charity and the discipline of the Church. It becomes the spiritual equivalent of Article 134: conduct unbecoming a Catholic.

The faithful who engage in uncharitable attacks online may claim zeal for truth, but zeal without charity becomes a flame that burns the wrong target. St. Paul warns, “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (1 Corinthians 13:1). And again, “Let all that you do be done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:14).

Christ Himself taught that correction begins privately and proceeds only when necessary: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens, you have gained your brother” (Matthew 18:15). The goal of correction is not humiliation but healing. Even when we must speak publicly to defend the truth, we are bound to do so with reverence and restraint, never hatred or arrogance.

St. Peter wrote to the early Christians: “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that… they may see your good deeds and glorify God” (1 Peter 2:12). We are to be examples, not provocateurs. The way we speak about our shepherds should reflect the obedience of Christ to His Father, not the rebellion of the world.

Our digital presence, therefore, is part of our witness. If our words online sow division, suspicion, or contempt for legitimate authority, then we fail to live as children of the Church. Truth without love destroys; love without truth deceives. The faithful Catholic must hold both in balance—charity in tone, clarity in truth, and humility in heart.

Conversion, Not Convenience

To be Catholic means to be conformed—not to our own desires, but to the Cross of Christ. The sacraments are not medals we earn; they are means of transformation. Baptism cleanses, Confirmation strengthens, the Eucharist nourishes—but all depend on a heart open to grace.

Christ did not say, “Follow Me, unless it’s uncomfortable.” He said, “Take up your cross daily” (Luke 9:23). The Church does not ask perfection before conversion, but she does ask intention—an honest desire to change, to grow, to surrender. Without that, we reduce faith to formality.

If one enters the Church with no willingness to change, it is like enlisting in the military while refusing to wear the uniform or follow the chain of command. You might say you belong, but your actions betray otherwise.

The Call of the Shepherds

Bishops and priests, like commanding officers, have a grave duty to guard what is sacred. If a cleric knowingly administers a sacrament to someone persisting in public sin, he bears the weight of scandal before God. The Lord’s warning to His shepherds is clear: “If the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet… his blood I will require at the watchman’s hand” (Ezekiel 33:6).

This is not a matter of punishment, but of salvation. The shepherd must love his flock enough to speak the truth, even when it wounds pride. For silence in the face of sin is not mercy—it is malpractice of the soul.

So Why Join?

Why would anyone wish to become Catholic if they do not wish to change? Perhaps they misunderstand what the Church is. She is not a museum of saints or a stage for social credibility. She is the ark of salvation—the place where sinners are forgiven, the broken are healed, and hearts are remade.

To join the Church is to enter the narrow gate (Matthew 7:14), to commit to the lifelong work of conversion, to seek holiness, not applause. If you do not believe what the Church teaches, if you will not allow her sacraments to change you, then you have not joined her—you have merely stood in her doorway.

But for those who enter with faith, humility, and a contrite heart, the Church is everything Christ promised: a refuge, a mother, a teacher, and a foretaste of heaven itself.

God Bless