Death is so important that God visited death upon his own son

“Death is so important that God visited death upon his own son, thereby helping us learn right from wrong well enough that we may escape death forever and live eternally in God's grace.” Thus spoke P. J. O’Rourke, a man known not only for his sharp wit but for his insight into the deeper truths that dwell beneath laughter. In this profound reflection, he touches upon one of the oldest mysteries of faith — the paradox that death, which seems the ultimate defeat, was chosen by the Divine as the path to redemption. It is a statement that carries both gravity and grace, for it reminds us that the lesson of mortality is not despair, but awakening. In death, O’Rourke suggests, we learn the value of life; in the death of Christ, we learn the measure of love.

The origin of this quote lies in O’Rourke’s meditations on Christianity, morality, and the human condition. Though often seen as a humorist, his wit was the armor of a mind that wrestled with serious questions. Here, he draws upon the central mystery of Christian theology — the Passion of Christ — to illustrate that death is not an accident of life, but an instrument of wisdom. When he says that “death is so important,” he elevates it beyond fear or tragedy. Death, in his view, is not the punishment of man but the teacher of the soul. By allowing His Son to suffer death, God turned mortality into revelation — showing humanity the terrible cost of sin, and the boundless reach of grace.

For O’Rourke, the crucifixion was not merely a symbol of sacrifice; it was a divine lesson in moral awareness. “By death,” he implies, “we learn what life means.” The suffering of Christ became the mirror of humanity’s brokenness and, in that reflection, the light of understanding dawned. The cross stands as the meeting place between justice and mercy — the moment when the Creator entered His own creation to bear its pain, so that mankind might be freed from the ignorance that leads to spiritual death. To “escape death forever,” as O’Rourke writes, is not to deny the body’s end, but to awaken to the eternal life of the spirit, which blooms in the soil of repentance and truth.

This idea — that death itself can be holy — echoes across the ages. In the early days of the Church, martyrs walked into the arena not with fear, but with joy, seeing in their deaths not loss but triumph. The blood of saints became the seed of faith, for their courage revealed that death had been conquered by love. So too, when Socrates drank the hemlock with calm serenity, he taught his disciples that the soul, if virtuous, cannot be destroyed. Yet the death of Christ, as O’Rourke notes, was greater still — for it was not merely a philosopher accepting mortality, but God Himself embracing it, sanctifying the passage between flesh and eternity. In that divine act, death lost its sting, and humanity gained its pathway to redemption.

Death, then, is the crucible in which right and wrong are forged. It strips away illusion and forces the soul to reckon with what endures. A man who remembers his mortality begins to see clearly what matters — not wealth or pride, but kindness, humility, and truth. In this way, O’Rourke’s words are not only theological but profoundly practical. He reminds us that every death, from the greatest to the smallest, is a teacher — urging us to live rightly, to forgive freely, and to love deeply, lest we waste the time given to us under heaven. The one who lives as though life were eternal forgets virtue; the one who remembers death walks with wisdom.

Consider the story of Maximilian Kolbe, a Catholic priest imprisoned in Auschwitz during the Second World War. When a fellow prisoner was chosen for execution, Kolbe stepped forward and offered to die in his place. In that moment, he lived the very truth O’Rourke speaks of: he understood that death, though terrible, was also sacred when offered in love. His sacrifice transformed a place of horror into a glimpse of grace — and through death, he revealed the victory of the spirit over evil. Kolbe’s courage reminds us that death, when embraced for what is right, ceases to be an end and becomes the gateway to eternal life.

The lesson, then, is this: do not despise death, but learn from it. For it is not the destroyer of meaning, but its final proof. If even God did not flee from it, then surely it is not something to fear, but something to understand. Let death teach you the value of your days; let it refine your conscience, awaken your love, and drive you toward righteousness. Every breath you take is a chance to rise closer to grace, to become the kind of soul that death cannot conquer.

So remember the wisdom of P. J. O’Rourke: death is important not because it ends us, but because it teaches us to begin. It was sanctified by the death of Christ, who turned mortality into immortality, sorrow into salvation. Let us, then, live as those who have seen both the cost and the gift of life — humble in our days, steadfast in our duties, and fearless in the face of the inevitable. For the one who has learned from death how to live in God’s grace has already escaped its shadow and walks in the light of eternity.