The ancient rabbis certainly understood that feeling. They knew that the divine, in all its glory, could be both awe-inspiring and, frankly, terrifying. And sometimes, a good story is the best way to illustrate that point.
Let me tell you about the Lion of the Forest Ilai.
The story goes that Caesar, in all his Roman might, summoned Rabbi Joshua ben Haninah. Caesar, ever the inquisitive ruler, wanted to understand the Jewish people. He challenged Rabbi Joshua, pointing out that the Jewish scriptures likened God to a lion: "The lion has roared, who will not fear?" (Amos 3:8). Caesar scoffed, "What's so special about that? A hunter can kill a lion!"
Now, Rabbi Joshua understood that this wasn't just about lions. It was about respect, about understanding the true power of the Divine. So, as we learn in B. Hullin 59b, he replied cautiously, "You wouldn't want to see this lion."
But Caesar, puffed up with imperial pride, insisted. He demanded to see this lion, threatening the Jewish community if his wish wasn't granted. Rabbi Joshua, seeing no other way, turned to prayer. He prayed that the lion might emerge from its dwelling in the forest Ilai.
Ilai, in this context, represents a hidden, primordial place, a source of untamed power. It's not just any forest. It's the forest.
And before long, his prayer was answered. The lion emerged from the forest Ilai and began its journey towards Rome. Imagine the anticipation, the dread… As the lion approached, even from a distance, its power became undeniable.
When the lion was still four hundred parasangs away – and a parasang is an ancient unit of distance, about 3-4 miles – it roared. Just once. But that single roar shook the very ground. All the bridges of Rome collapsed!
But it wasn't over.
When the lion was three hundred parasangs away, it roared a second time. This time, the impact was even more devastating. The molars and front teeth of the people fell out! And Caesar himself, the mighty emperor, fell from his throne to the floor!
Think about that for a moment. The roar of this mythical lion was so overwhelming that it physically dismantled the symbols of Roman power and authority.
Completely humbled, Caesar pleaded with Rabbi Joshua, "Enough! I beg you, pray that the lion be returned to its place!" Rabbi Joshua, his point made, relented. He prayed again, and the lion turned around and returned to the forest from which it had come.
What does this story tell us? It's not just a fantastical tale about a super-powered lion. It's a lesson about the true source of power in the world. The Zohar tells us so much about the hidden nature of the Divine, and this story echoes that sentiment. As Ginzberg recounts in Legends of the Jews, the Lion of the Forest Ilai represents the terrifying power and glory of God, a power far greater than any earthly ruler. It’s a reminder that even the most powerful empires are ultimately fragile in the face of the divine. The Midrash Rabbah is filled with similar examples of the divine presence impacting the world in dramatic ways. This story is another thread in that rich tapestry.
The roar of this mythic lion serves as a potent reminder: there are forces in the universe far beyond our comprehension, and it is wise to approach them with humility and awe. So next time you feel yourself getting too confident, too sure of your own power, remember the Lion of the Forest Ilai. You might just find yourself a little more grounded.