A Blazin' Vain Blazon

Girolamo Savonarola had just about the coolest name ever.

...not that kind of vanity.

But! He wasn't proud about it, because Girolamo Savonarola was all-fired against vanity--as his sermon on the Feast of the Ascension clearly shows.

Savonarola begins with the story of Balaam from the Bible and creates a detailed allegory with it. He takes upon himself the role of Balaam's donkey; to the people, he gives the role of Balaam. If you recall, in the story from the Bible, Balaam is riding down a skinny path when his donkey sees an angel in front of them and turns away, earning a ripe beating from its master. Balaam promptly gets his spiritual eyes and, seeing the angel for himself, understands what's going on.

With a crinkled brow and a cross in his pocket,
Savonarola seems to have been a pretty intense preacher.

"I've seen the angel!" Savonarola says essentially. "I know the truth! If you would give up your pride (there's the vanity he likes to talk about), stop beating me, and open your eyes, you could see it too." He goes on, creating a new and striking story in which his hearers can place themselves; in which he, the great sermon-giver, is suddenly a humble pack animal who yet knows what the "masters" do not. That's a pretty strong comparison that serves as both the ethos and pathos appeal.

Then, at the end of the sermon, Savonarola goes into a blazon--a description from head to toe--of what the people should preach to themselves. It's an interesting way to conclude his words, but powerful in its particularity and pattern. And what do you think the first thing he says is? You guessed it. "First say to thine eyes, 'Look not on vanity.'"

Savonarola then moves through the ears, tongue, palate, senses, hands, and feet. Detailing these personal mini-sermons emphasizes the need of the people to be completely reformed...and to completely avoid vanity.