The Idolatry of Reputation
Serapion Sindonites was devout monk from the fourth century who memorised the Scriptures, practised great spiritual discipline, and—surprisingly—never wore clothes apart from a loincloth. According to his hagiographer, towards the end of his life, Serapion meets a pious virgin who lives in solitude. He asks her whether she is alive in Christ and thus dead to the world. She confirms this is the case, claiming that anyone who lives a life of solitude, like her, is dead to the flesh. To prove this, Serapion asks something astonishing of her: “Follow my example and take off all your clothes, put them on your shoulders, and go through the middle of the city with me leading the way in this fashion.” Horrified, she responds, “I should scandalize many by the unseemliness of the thing, and they would be able to say, ‘She is mad and possessed by a demon.’” He replied, “What does it concern you if they should say? … For you are dead to them” (Palladius, Lausiac History, XXXVII.13-15).
In a world where branding, influence, and reputation are paramount, Serapion’s request to this woman seems wholly unreasonable and problematic—how could this possibly be acceptable, particularly from a religious authority? To answer this, we need to recognize that Serapion is a figure who might be described as a holy fool. That is, someone who emphasizes and lives out Paul’s words to the Corinthians, “But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise” (1 Corinthians 1:27, NIV). Rowan Williams, in a fascinating chapter on this topic, defines holy folly as: “the conscious adoption of shocking and unconventional styles of action calculated to provoke public disgust or mockery… It is undertaken to conceal an inner spiritual purity or maturity – to deflect a reverence or admiration that would be spiritually dangerous to the person involved. (Williams, Looking East in Winter, 197). The behaviour of these holy fools, found throughout the Christian Scriptures and tradition, is radically diverse. Isaiah walked around naked and barefoot for three years (Isaiah 20:2-4), the wild men of Ireland (geilt) wandered the wilderness living in treetops, and the Russian holy ones (yurodivye) threw rocks at churches.
What connects them is the subversive nature of inner holiness, an unwillingness to conform to cultural patterns of piety. When Serapion asks the virgin to walk through town naked, his motivation is not to sexualize her or to scandalize the city—it is to test if her holiness is based on obedience to Christ or conformity to cultural and social norms.
The Dangers of Visible Patterns of Holiness
Patterns of holy living are manifold in Christian culture and society. In the discussion over gender in the evangelical movement, for instance, holiness might be described as fulfilling a specific role in a marriage or, alternatively, being free from such positions. Both are marketed as the proper model for following Christ.
In either proposed model, though, there is an implicit danger in reducing holiness to conformity to a particular lifestyle. If holiness becomes about following a pattern rather than a person—namely, Jesus Christ—idolatry sets in. Here, holy folly provides a helpful corrective in thinking about following Christ rather than a visible pattern of behaviour.
In another account of divine folly, a pair named Theophilus and Maria decided to follow Christ oddly: Theophilus dressed as a mime actor and Maria as a prostitute. They went to Amida (now Diyarbakır, Turkey) and made fun of priests and the people, being despised and physically abused by all.
Yet, one night, they are seen with “their arms to heaven in prayer in the form of a cross, and after a time they fell upon their faces in prayer … and they went through the same form for a long time.” (John of Ephesus, Lives of the Eastern Saints, 169).
Theophilus and Maria were perceived by the townspeople as sacrilegious buffoons, yet they were genuinely holy ones living after Christ, practising holiness in a subversive way. Rather than cultivating an image of apparent holiness, these Christ-followers fostered an idea of perceived unholiness to become more sanctified. In other words, they acknowledged how the visible appearance of holiness can turn into an idol of prideful reputation at the expense of true devotion to God.
The Billy Graham Rule, Twitter Feuds, and the Idolatry of Reputation
Many external holiness patterns across the Christian tradition are in danger of protecting the self and reputation over true discipleship. An obvious example here may be one of Billy Graham’s rules while on the evangelism circuit. He and his fellow evangelists were unwilling to meet with a woman in any situation that might appear suspicious or infidelity. By protecting their image, so the logic goes, they were better able to watch the Gospel. An unlikely bedfellow with this rule might be social media branding, with perfectly manicured platforms demonstrating holy living. It tells how those running these platforms feel compelled to defend themselves against critique, often seen in Twitter feuds and public videos. While there may be inner piety from those discussed here, it is the appearance of holiness which is of paramount importance.
In all of this, we need to probe into why we might feel compelled to perform holiness in a certain way. Is it about truly following Christ or appearing holy? If we look at these sacred fools as an example of righteous living, or Jesus Christ for that matter, we should be comfortable leaving our reputation to the side. After all, we follow a saviour who routinely hung out with sinners and prostitutes—can you imagine Christ’s reputation around town?
Now, I am not exhorting use to walk about naked or to throw stones at churches—please don’t. In fact, I would have a few strong words to say to Serapion in asking the woman to walk through town naked! In a world with rampant abuse, we need external checks and parameters to protect the vulnerable. But when these parameters become a means to protect the powerful, we lose sight of Christ’s calling.
I am exhorting us to pay close attention to the idols of our hearts, which leads us to perform visible holiness rather than follow Jesus Christ. In this, we can learn much from the holy fools: “They aspire to become the little ones of Christ, the last of all, the least, the forgotten, the despised, so that they may conquer pride, renounce self, and live only to the Lord; folly for them is the last state or highest grade of humility—the loss of all reputation and esteem” (John Saward, Perfect Fools: Folly for Christ’s Sake, 29). Perhaps we can learn much from losing our reputation to follow Christ.
