Essay on CCC 422–429 – I Believe in Jesus Christ, the Only Son of God
Christianity does not arise from an idea, a myth, or a philosophy. It is born of an encounter. At the heart of faith stands a living Person: Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, sent by the Father to reveal His love and offer salvation. This is the Good News, the Gospel that the Church has proclaimed since apostolic times:
“God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life” (Jn 3:16).
Catechesis, in turn, only makes sense if it is a means of introducing one into this encounter with Christ. As the Catechism teaches (CCC 426):
“At the heart of catechesis we find, in essence, a Person, the Person of Jesus of Nazareth, the only Son from the Father … who suffered and died for us and who now, risen, lives with us forever.”
This is the core of all proclamation. To teach catechesis without Christ at the centre is like trying to light a lamp without power: one may speak of values, traditions and symbols, but everything remains empty if it does not lead to an encounter with Him.
Yet something decisive lies within this encounter: it does not admit neutrality. The decision to follow Jesus is a true dichotomy, in the deepest sense of the word. There is no middle ground between light and darkness, life and death, grace and sin. Either one welcomes the Good News or one rejects it. To follow Jesus with “half measures” is, in truth, not to follow Him at all. Therefore, catechesis must be a clear, joyful, and demanding proclamation, one that calls to decision.
God’s Revelation in Christ
The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that, however capable the human intellect may be in seeking truth about God, our reason is finite and limited. The human heart, enlightened by creation and conscience, can come to intuit the existence of a Creator, but it can never fully penetrate His mystery by its own power. If God were to remain silent, we would never reach Him.
It is out of love that God Himself takes the initiative to reveal Himself. He is not content to leave signs of His presence but enters history, speaks to man, guides His people, and finally communicates Himself in a perfect and definitive way in Jesus Christ, the eternal Word who “became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:14).
In Christ, the invisible becomes visible, the eternal enters time, the infinite takes on our fragility. He is the fullness of revelation, the Word that not only speaks but lives and acts. In Him, God not only manifests Himself but gives Himself entirely. Here lies the radical difference between Christianity and every other religious tradition or human philosophy: it is not the desperate search of man striving to ascend to God, but God Himself who descends to us to raise us up to Him.
Jesus is, as Saint John Paul II affirmed, “the human face of God and the divine face of man.” In Him we contemplate who God is—love, mercy, truth—and at the same time we discover who we are called to become in fullness: children in the Son.
For this reason, we believe that the Incarnation is the central point of the entire history of salvation. In it, what seemed irreconcilable becomes reality: the divine and the human are united in one Person, without confusion or separation. This is the paradox that scandalised Jews and Greeks alike and continues to be a stumbling block for many: God became man—not merely to dwell among us, but to take on our pain, redeem our sins, and open to us the gates of eternal life.
Therefore, all catechesis must continually recall this sublime mystery. We do not speak of an abstract idea or a distant God, but of a God who has a name, a face, a history—Jesus Christ, “the same yesterday, today and forever” (Heb 13:8). In Him the human being finds the answer to the deepest questions of the heart, and through Him we are drawn into the intimacy of the Trinity, the supreme mystery of love.
Jesus, the Heart of Catechesis (CCC 426–429)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church insists with clarity that Christ is the centre of catechesis. This statement reminds us that Jesus cannot be treated as one topic among many, as if He were merely another chapter in a manual of faith. He is the axis around which everything revolves. Sacred Scripture, the liturgy, Christian morality, the life of prayer, the very existence of the Church—all converge in Him, the key to understanding, the foundation, and the summit of all Christian teaching.
This centrality of Jesus means that catechesis cannot be reduced to a set of moral norms, an intellectual discipline, or a cultural tradition handed down. Of course, morality, doctrine and tradition have their rightful place; yet if they are not rooted in the encounter with Christ, they risk becoming sterile. To teach faith is not simply to transmit ideas but to generate new life from a living encounter.
To teach faith, then, is to lead the catechised into a personal relationship with Jesus. It is not a matter of speaking of a distant figure of the past, but of presenting One who is alive and active, not confined to a museum of history. He is contemporary with every man and every generation. That is why we must open the eyes of the heart to recognise His presence today: He continues to speak through the Word, to act in the sacraments, to heal the wounded, to transform lives.
This living and present character of Jesus appears vividly in the Gospel of John, which offers narratives that are true windows into the mystery of the encounter between Christ and humanity. Among many episodes, we highlight two for this catechetical essay: the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4) and the healing of the paralytic at Bethesda (Jn 5).
The Samaritan Woman at the Well
John recounts that Jesus, weary from the journey, sat down beside Jacob’s well at noon. This seemingly secondary detail is filled with meaning. The time of day—the hottest hour—reveals something significant: it was not customary for women to fetch water then. They usually went in groups, either in the morning or in the evening, when the heat was bearable. The fact that the Samaritan woman was there alone, under the blazing sun, indicates her condition of exclusion. Her life, marked by marital failures, had made her a source of personal shame and social isolation.
Jesus begins the dialogue with a simple request: “Give me a drink” (Jn 4:7). This gesture is surprising, since a Jew was not expected to speak to a Samaritan woman, much less ask her for something. Yet Jesus breaks cultural and religious barriers to reach that soul. He starts from the most human level, physical thirst, in order to lead her towards a deeper spiritual reality, using an intellectual trigger: curiosity.
The dialogue reveals a patient pedagogy. Jesus lays bare the truth of her life, not to condemn but to set free. He shows that only those who recognise their vices can change the direction of their lives. He makes clear that the woman had been seeking, in successive relationships, to fill a void that could never be satisfied by human experiences. Only God could offer the “living water” that quenches the thirst of the heart.
Jesus’ answer goes beyond that dialogue and reaches us today as an invitation: “Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give will never thirst; the water that I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life”(Jn 4:14).
And most importantly, good stories are about the transformation of characters in the face of their personal conflicts. The change here is radical. That woman, once hidden and ashamed, leaves behind her water jar—the symbol of her old life—and runs into the town to announce, becoming a herald of the coming of the Messiah: “Come and see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” (Jn 4:29).
The encounter with Jesus generates mission. Catechesis, in the same way, must be a space where the person experiences this transforming shock: discovering their deepest thirst, finding in Christ the answer, and finally feeling compelled to bear witness.
The Paralytic at Bethesda (Jn 5)
Immediately afterwards, John presents us with another decisive encounter. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool called Bethesda, surrounded by the sick who waited for the water to be stirred so that they might be healed. Among them lay a paralytic who had been there for thirty-eight years. This number symbolises almost an entire lifetime marked by waiting. He had neither strength nor hope left. His words reveal a resigned heart: “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am going, another steps down before me” (Jn 5:7).
This lament shows that he had grown accustomed to his paralysis. He lived on excuses, bound by self-pity, expecting something external to change his condition. How many today live in the same way: believing that their happiness depends on external circumstances, lying down in resignation, waiting for someone else to carry them out of their self-pity?
It is in this context that Jesus approaches. He asks what seems an obvious question: “Do you want to be healed?” (Jn 5:6). Why ask this of someone who has been sick for so long? Because faith is not automatic. Jesus respects freedom. He does not impose; He invites. The paralytic had to choose: remain lying down, or trust in the Word that calls him to new life.
When Jesus commands, “Rise, take up your mat and walk” (Jn 5:8), He restores not only physical health but also dignity, hope, and initiative. The man must now carry his mat, take ownership of his story, and walk before everyone. This gesture is profoundly catechetical: Christ liberates us, but also entrusts us with responsibility. Faith is not passivity; it is movement. It is not endless waiting for a miracle, but active response to God’s Word calling us forth.
The Pedagogy of Jesus: He Passes through Our Lives and Transforms Us
Both episodes reveal the same dynamic: Jesus seeks out man in his fragility. With the Samaritan woman, He encounters hidden thirst. With the paralytic, He confronts paralysing resignation. In both cases, He breaks barriers, reveals the innermost truth, offers new life, and sends forth to mission.
In these encounters we see the same pattern: Christ goes to those who suffer, breaks through social and religious barriers, uncovers hidden truth, offers new life, awaits acceptance, and finally sends them out. Both the woman at the well and the man at the pool, after experiencing the action of Jesus, become proclaimers: one runs to the town, the other walks carrying his mat in full view of all.
Here lies the essence of catechesis: a personal encounter with Jesus that transforms and sends forth. Whoever truly meets Christ does not remain the same, but becomes a living witness, able to proclaim: “I have seen, I have heard, I have encountered the Lord.”
The Dichotomy of Discipleship
Before applying the term to following Christ, it is important to understand what dichotomy means. It is not a word used often in daily speech, but its concept sheds light on Christian discipleship. Simeon, when he received the Child Jesus in his arms in the temple, prophesied that He would bring about “division among men” (Lk 2:34).
This is the sense of dichotomy: a division into two parts that are not complementary but opposed and mutually exclusive. When one is affirmed, the other is necessarily negated.
To understand better, let us think of an orange cut in half. In this case, we do not have a dichotomy. The two halves are different, yet complementary, and together they form the whole orange once again. There is no opposition between them, but unity.
Dichotomy, on the other hand, is a division that admits no reconciliation. It is always two poles that exclude each other: either one or the other. A simple example is that of light and darkness: where there is light, darkness disappears; where darkness reigns, light is absent. They cannot coexist fully.
This is precisely the sense of Christian discipleship. Following Jesus is not a neutral invitation but a radical choice. The Lord Himself was categorical: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters”(Mt 12:30). These words reveal the dichotomy of discipleship: there is no “middle ground” between being with Christ or against Him.
This reality means that the Christian life is always lived in tension between two paths: light or darkness, life or death, grace or sin. It is not a secondary matter but the very heart of faith. Whoever chooses to follow Christ must decide wholly for Him. Every attempt to reconcile Christ with idols, or faith with the logic of the world, produces spiritual lukewarmness and missionary sterility.
The Rich Young Man: When the Dichotomy Demands a Decision
The episode of the rich young man (Mk 10:17–22) is emblematic in understanding the dichotomy of discipleship. This man approaches Jesus with enthusiasm, runs to Him, kneels, calls Him “Good Teacher”, and asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. Up to this point, he seems full of faith and zeal.
But Jesus, looking at him with love, makes a radical invitation: “Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (Mk 10:21). Here the dichotomy manifests itself in all its force. The young man is called to choose between Christ and his wealth, between placing his total trust in Jesus or remaining attached to his material securities.
And he cannot choose the Lord. The text tells us he went away sad, for he had many possessions. Here we see dichotomy in its most painful form: either follow Christ with detachment, or turn away from Him bearing the sadness of a divided heart.
This episode is catechetical because it reflects the situation of many Christians: they want Jesus but do not wish to let go of what binds them. They desire eternal life but are not willing to transform their lives radically. Deep down, they seek a third way, but the dichotomy of discipleship admits no alternatives: either with Christ, or without Him.
In contrast with the rich young man, we see the response of the first disciples. Peter, Andrew, James, and John were occupied with their fishing when, upon hearing the call, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mk 1:17), they immediately left their nets and followed Him.
Mark emphasises: “And immediately they left their nets and followed Him” (Mk 1:18). There was no delay, no negotiation, no excuses. This promptness shows that they understood the dichotomy: they could not remain half fishermen and half disciples. They had to abandon the nets to receive a new mission.
Here the dichotomy of discipleship manifests itself in its positive form: the radical decision that brings freedom and mission. While the rich young man chose wealth and lost joy, the apostles left everything and found fullness of life.
The Christian Life Is Always Dichotomic
Scripture is filled with this language of contrast, revealing the very nature of Christian life. After all, one cannot belong to two worlds. The Christian must choose whom he wishes to serve. Jesus made this clear: “No one can serve two masters” (Mt 6:24).
Finally, it must be said that the dichotomy of discipleship is not a threat but a grace. It reminds us that God takes us seriously, respects our freedom, and calls us to a full decision. Love cannot be lukewarm or divided; it can only be radical.
To choose Christ is to choose life, truth, light, grace. To refuse Christ is, even unconsciously, to choose darkness, falsehood, and death. Thus, the dichotomy of discipleship is, in reality, the clearest expression of God’s love, which calls us to share in His fullness of life.
Catechesis, therefore, must always present this paradox: Christ is not an optional detail to be added, but the centre that reorganises the whole of existence. Either He is Lord of all, or He is not Lord at all. Only those who accept this radical demand can truly say with Peter: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68).
The Good News is simple yet profound: God sent His Son. This is the message that changes history, that gives meaning to life, that opens horizons of eternity. The heart of catechesis is to proclaim this living Christ, who invites each person to a radical decision.
We cannot follow Him halfway. There is no such thing as lukewarm discipleship. Jesus calls us to leave the water jar, to rise from the mat, to abandon the nets. He invites us to live fully in the light.
Today, as yesterday, the question of Jesus resounds within each of us: “Do you want to be healed?” And the Good News is that, by answering “yes”, we enter into fullness of life, for in Christ we discover the meaning of everything.