In the early half of the sixteenth century, the deviant Moroccan Sufi saint known as Abū Rawāyn (d. 1556) was traveling from Meknes to visit the Sufi saint Mulay Ibrāhīm al-Afḥām (fl. 1460-1534) near Jabal Zarhūn. On the way, he passed by the tomb of Sīdī Āmsnāwa (d. 1534-43). Despite the crowd of people gathered around the tomb, he disrobed and relieved himself. The people exclaimed at this gross impropriety and questioned him: “How can you uncover yourself in front of us?!” Abū Rawāyn responded: “What people? There is no one here but Sīdī ‘Uthmān Āmsnāwa,” indicating the shrine beside him. This anecdote, one of many bizarre acts attributed to Abū Rawāyn who was affiliated with a community of divinely mad (majdhūb) saints in northern Morocco at the time, troubled one of his main hagiographers, Muḥammad al-Mahdī al-Fāsī (d. 1698). After telling this story, al-Mahdī al-Fāsī worried over Abū Rawāyn’s actions, devoting several pages attempting to rationalize the saint’s deviance: Did revealing himself and urinating in public signify that Abū Rawāyn was a holy fool (bahlūl) who had lost control of his rational faculties (sāqiṭ al-taklīf)? Were his actions the sign of his enrapturement in a great spiritual state (ḥāl)? Or, did the people and those who narrated the tale misinterpret his actions, confusing the metaphorical meaning of “cover” with a literal rendering? In this presentation, I examine the relationship of embodying abasement to debating divine madness (jadhb) in early modern Moroccan Sufi hagiographies. I focus in particular on attempts by hagiographers to delineate the boundaries of a community of majdhūb saints that populated northern Morocco between the mid-fifteenth through the sixteenth centuries. Who counted as a “majdhūb” was the subject of continual debates, as hagiographers wrestled with the slippage and overlapping categories of master [possessor] of spiritual states (ṣāḥib al-ḥāl), one who practices self-blaming (malāmatī), holy fool (bahlūl), and madman (majnūn). The categorization of majdhūb hinged on a Sufi’s embodied performance of abasement, which was often expressed through gender and sexual deviance. Yet, as I argue, the question of embodying abasement was also embedded in discourses of power. As Muḥammad al-Mahdī al-Fāsī’s aggrieved response demonstrates, being majdhūb often conflicted with broader concerns related to the hagiographer’s understanding of Sufism, political and social context, and commitment to elevating particular Sufi hierarchies, lineages, and paradigmatic saints.