Remember, You are Dust
On mortality salience, self-reflection, and Lent
Almost 1.4 billion Catholics—along with millions belonging to other Christian denominations—will begin the season of Lent this Wednesday, March 5. As many of my readers are likely aware, Lent is a 40-day period of preparation leading up to Easter Sunday. It begins on Ash Wednesday and ends at sundown on Holy Thursday (so that’s March 5 to April 17 here in 2025).
For me as a kid, Lent typically meant four things:
You had to pick something to give up. Frequent contenders included desserts in general or chocolates in particular. Surely that was easier than giving up something like fighting with siblings or complaining about chores.
You had to skip eating meat on Fridays. Often this meant a switch to tuna or bean consumption on those days.
You had to skip eating meat and fast on two days: Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. (Technically speaking, the “no meat” rule kicks in at age 14 and the fasting rule kicks in at age 18; similar exemptions exist for various physical or mental conditions.)
You had to go to church a few days in a row during the last week.
I’d wager that those basic items are fairly standard at least among American Catholic families. But looking at Lent now as an adult, it’s readily apparent that there’s a lot more going on here.
And as someone who really finds human behavior interesting—so interesting that once upon a time I earned a Ph.D. in one of the social sciences—I thought I’d offer a few related reflections from that angle. I’ll leave the deep theology and philosophy to the clerics, theologians, and philosophers. Instead, let’s look a little at a few things that come to my mind when I think about Lent including mortality salience and self-reflection.
Mortality Salience can be Good for You
For Catholics, Ash Wednesday involves marking people’s foreheads with ashes in the sign of the cross, often accompanied by the words, “Remember, you are dust, and unto dust you shall return” or “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel.” The former deliberately calls to mind one’s impending physical death, and even though the latter is less direct, it still involves the literal placement of ashes—which often symbolizes death—on one’s head. (The ashes, by the way, typically come from the burning of last year’s palm branches from Palm Sunday.)
The phrase in Latin is memento mori: “Remember you must die.” And in psychology, it’s closely related to the idea of mortality salience, or having the recognition that you will die at some point in the future. We humans appear to have this awareness of death much more than other animals, and it’s frequently symbolized in Christian art by the presence of a skull.
There are, of course, problems with obsessing about death or taking mortality salience too far. For example, too much death awareness can violate our survival instinct so much that we can become overwhelmed with anxiety. The context really matters. That’s because some of the outcomes can depend greatly upon one’s beliefs and circumstances.
Here are a few things that research suggests happens with increased mortality salience:
We can become more attached to our cultural worldviews and to those people who share our beliefs, norms, and values. This can be either be positive or negative, depending on the nature of how you see the world. Within the context of Catholicism, a faith that holds self-sacrificial love (among other key beliefs, of course) as a core tenet, a dose of mortality salience is rather useful and beneficial. In other contexts, however, mortality salience might lead to an increased rejection of outsiders.
We can become more motivated to help others or perform other actions that align with our deep values. Psychologically, this can help us feel reassured in the face of death awareness by renewing our sense of purpose and meaning, or perhaps through increasing our desire to create a positive, lasting legacy within our social groups or broader communities.
We can develop an altered perception of time. Notably, mortality salience can help us remember that our physical time is limited, and that finitude can give us a healthy sense of urgency about life—helping us prioritize and set goals anew.
Again, one’s context certainly matters when it comes to maximizing the benefits and minimizing the downsides of mortality salience. In my view and from my experiences as a Catholic, there’s plenty about how we do Lent that lends itself to a proper ordering of mortality salience.
For one, there’s a strong foundation of values and norms oriented toward serving others and thinking of oneself less that—if we let it—can help us rethink and better organize how we spend our time and how we direct our efforts. Additionally, of course, there’s the big point that Jesus Christ conquered death and provided a vehicle through which we can find purpose and meaning in the suffering of this world.
Self-Reflection
In a way, mortality salience is a function of our self-awareness as humans. Another feature that’s related to our self-awareness is our capacity for self-reflection, the psychological effort we can expend to consider deeply ourselves, our actions, and our experiences. Examining one’s thoughts and actions is a key part of Lent, and there are psychological reasons why that’s useful along with ways in which we can best harness the power of self-reflection.
First, self-reflection is an important part of learning and behavior change. If we truly want to become better people, then we have to start by thinking about what becoming better truly means and honestly examine ourselves to see where we need to improve.
Second, self-reflection can help boost our sense of gratitude and connection. That happens when we specifically reflect upon those parts of our lives for which we’re grateful including the relationships we have with friends and loved ones.
Third, self-reflection can help us live with more integrity. If we honestly assess what we say we believe juxtaposed with what we really believe and with how we really act, it’s likely that we’ll have a number of insights regarding what we’re doing well and where we might need better alignment.
Like mortality salience, self-reflection can be taken in the wrong direction. We might focus too much on negative aspects of our lives, leading us to unproductive (and potentially harmful) rumination, or we might learn the wrong lessons from our experiences.
To avoid these pitfalls, it can be helpful to work through well-designed self-reflection exercises. The Ignatian Examen is one that comes to mind (click here for more information). I also find that it’s essential to compare my insights from self-reflection with insights from trusted friends, experts, and Church doctrine to help ensure I’m not simply basking in my own misguided ideas.
So during these next 40 days, may we all be a bit more intentional and make each day fruitful.
May we all expend the effort necessary to do that.
And may we all remember that we are indeed dust and use that awareness to ignite a desire to order ourselves appropriately.
References and for further reading
Lenten practices and reflections from Loyola Press
Burke, Brian L., Andy Martens, and Erik H. Faucher. “Two decades of terror management theory: A meta-analysis of mortality salience research.” Personality and Social Psychology Review 14, no. 2 (2010): 155-195. Link
Marcovitch, Stuart, Sophie Jacques, Janet J. Boseovski, and Philip David Zelazo. “Self‐reflection and the cognitive control of behavior: Implications for learning.” Mind, Brain, and Education 2, no. 3 (2008): 136-141. Link