A Roman emperor challenged a sage about the verse in Amos (3:8): The lion hath roared, who will not fear? "Where is this excellence?" the emperor scoffed. "A single horseman kills a lion." The Rabbi replied, "The verse does not speak of an ordinary lion, but of the lion of the forest of Ilai." The emperor demanded to see such a beast at once.
"You cannot behold him," the Rabbi warned. The emperor insisted. The Rabbi prayed to God for help, and his prayer was answered. The lion came forth from his lair and roared — and though the beast was four hundred miles away, every wall of Rome trembled and fell to the ground.
The lion drew three hundred miles closer and roared a second time. The teeth of the people dropped from their mouths. The emperor tumbled from his throne, shaking. "Rabbi!" he cried. "Pray to your God to send the lion back to the forest!" The Rabbi prayed once more, and the beast withdrew.
The Talmud (Chullin 59b) offers this story as a lesson in humility for empire. The verse in Amos does not describe metaphor; it describes a sound that shatters cities. When Rome demanded to witness Jewish faith on its own terms, it got a roar that loosened its teeth — and a prayer that mended its throne.