Where is the Roar?

I. The Lion Who Would Not Roar

In The Wizard of Oz, the Lion bears a mane, claws, and a kingly crown, yet trembles when truth and danger demand courage. He has all the marks of kingship, but none of its spirit. “What makes a king out of a slave?” he asks. “Courage!” So too today, many faithful Catholics ask of their shepherds—especially of Pope Leo XIV—Where is the courage? Where is the roar?

At a time when Marian doctrine is under assault, when devotion to Our Lady is mocked by secular voices, diluted by modern theologians, and quietly minimized by Vatican bureaucracy, the Church needed a lion. Instead, it received a whimper.

The Vatican document Mater Populi Fidelis claimed to clarify Marian language and correct excesses. But instead of affirming Mary as Co-Redemptrix and Mediatrix of All Graces, it cautions, restricts, and gently distances the Church from those titles loved by Saints, proclaimed by popes, and rooted in Sacred Tradition. It speaks of Mary’s motherhood, but not of her victory. It honors her in sentiment, but refuses to further jewel her glorious crown.

This essay argues that Mater Populi Fidelis reflects a failure of papal courage—a papacy that, like the Cowardly Lion, wears the crown but fears the battlefield. It is a retreat from the Marian boldness of Saints Louis de Montfort, Maxmilian Kolbe, and popes such as Pius X, Pius XII, and especially John Paul II. It is an age where men who should roar instead negotiate, retreat, and explain away the glory of their Queen.

And so we must ask—Where is the roar?

II. The Roar of Tradition — Mary in Holy Scripture and the Glorious Saints

If Mater Populi Fidelis aims to temper or dilute Marian titles out of fear that they might be misunderstood, it stands in stark contrast to the witness of the Saints, Church Fathers, and Doctors of the Church. They did not shrink from proclaiming the singular dignity of the Blessed Virgin Mary with clarity, boldness, and filial love. Their reverence was not cautious but courageous rooted in truth rather than timidity. They spoke as lovers of the Mother of God, not as managers of perception. Unlike modern voices anxious to avoid controversy, they feared no human criticism, nor did they retreat from righteous conflict when Marian honor was at stake.

III. The Seed of All Marian Doctrine

Every true Marian teaching flows from Sacred Scripture, not from sentiment. At the Annunciation, Mary Most Holy enters salvation history not as a passive vessel but as a free and intelligent cooperator with grace: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38). At the Visitation, St. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, proclaims, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb” (Luke 1:42). At Calvary, the Blessed Mother is not merely present—she is given to the Church itself: “Woman, behold thy son… Behold thy mother” (John 19:26–27). Finally, in Revelation 12, Sacred Scripture unveils the Woman clothed with the sun, crowned with twelve stars, laboring to give birth while the dragon seeks to devour her child—a cosmic revelation of motherhood warring against evil.

Mary is not a background figure in salvation history; she is the Woman whose obedience unties Eve’s knot of disobedience. The Church Fathers recognized this truth with profound clarity. What Scripture begins in inspired word, the Fathers continue in theological reflection, echoing the same melody of divine maternity and obedience that runs through all ages of the Church.

IV. The First Roar

The early Church Fathers were the first to roar Marian truth into the world. St. Irenaeus in the second century declared, “The knot of Eve’s disobedience was loosed by Mary’s obedience,” affirming that redemption began to unfold in her fiat. St. Athanasius wrote, “He who is the Word became man, taking flesh from the Virgin Mary, in order to make us gods,” capturing the profound Mystery of divine condescension through her. St. Ephrem the Syrian, aflame with poetic theology, called Mary the “dispensatrix of salvation” and “the Mediatrix of the whole world.”

These Fathers did not fear clarity, nor did they ask the world’s permission to speak. They spoke because Truth demands expression, and in defending their Mother, they defended the Incarnation itself. As the centuries advanced, their voices would be taken up and amplified by the saints and doctors who transformed theological conviction into luminous devotion, ensuring that the roar of Tradition would never fall silent.

V. The Lions of Mary

In every age, the Saints and Doctors of the Church have taken up this roar. St. Bernard of Clairvaux taught, “God has willed that we should have nothing that has not passed through her hands,” expressing the divine economy of grace entrusted to her intercession. St. Louis de Montfort proclaimed, “When the Holy Spirit, her spouse, finds Mary in a soul, He flies there,” describing the inseparable bond between the Spirit and the Virgin. St. Alphonsus Liguori wrote with pastoral precision that “Mary is the neck of the Mystical Body. Christ is the Head; we are the members. Grace flows from the Head to the body through the neck.” And St. Maximilian Kolbe, the martyr of charity, summed up their chorus with fearless love: “Never be afraid of loving Mary too much. You can never love her more than Jesus did.”

These holy men did not whisper their devotion; they thundered it. Their writings, homilies, and prayers formed the living architecture of Marian theology, turning doctrine into devotion and devotion into sanctity. From their witness emerged a Marian spirituality so integral to Catholic identity that future popes would not only preserve it but elevate it to dogma, ensuring that the Church’s maternal heart continued to beat in unison with Mary’s.

VI. Shepherds Who Roared

Before the age of timidity, the papal magisterium itself roared with Marian confidence. Pope Pius IX, in Ineffabilis Deus (1854), declared, “God, by one and the same decree, had established the origin of Mary and the Incarnation of Divine Wisdom,” uniting her conception with the Mystery of Christ. Pope Leo XIII wrote eleven encyclicals on the Rosary, insisting, “It is impossible to measure the power of Mary’s intercession.” Pope St. Pius X, in Ad Diem Illum, proclaimed that “from her union with Christ comes her eminence… she is our Co-Redemptress.” Pope Benedict XV continued this Marian witness, writing, “Mary suffered and almost died with her suffering Son… for this reason, we may rightly say she redeemed mankind with Christ.” Even into the modern age, St. John Paul II called Mary “Coredemptrix” six times and declared at Guayaquil in 1985, “Mary’s role as Coredemptrix did not cease with the glorification of her Son.”

From Sacred Scripture to the Church Fathers, from the Saints to the popes, the voice of the Church has been one unbroken hymn of Marian praise, a roaring Tradition unafraid to proclaim her mysteries, even when the world mocked or misunderstood. Yet today, that mighty chorus has been muted by hesitation and fear, and the once-courageous roar of Peter’s successors has softened into a whisper. It is here that the story turns, for the Lion who once roared now grows silent and the Mother of the Faithful still waits to be heard.

VII. The Papal Mandate: To Proclaim, Not to Apologize

In The Wizard of Oz, the Lion possesses every outward sign of kingship: a regal mane, sharp claws, a deep voice. Yet when called to act—when courage is required—he trembles and hides. “I do believe in spooks! I do, I do, I do!” he whimpers, terrified of dangers that are mostly imagined.

So too, many Catholics now see in Pope Leo XIV a tragic parallel: a pope vested with the fullness of Apostolic authority, seated on the Chair of Peter, yet unwilling to proclaim any further development of Mary’s true titles for fear of criticism, controversy, or ecumenical disapproval. He wears the keys, but will not use them. He has the roar of Peter yet chooses silence. Beset by the appearance of a successfully implemented corporate conflict avoidance training the Holy Father restrains rather than implores deeper devotion to the Great Mother of God Mary Most Holy. 

Christ’s command to Peter was never ambiguous: “Feed my sheep” (John 21:17). “Strengthen your brethren” (Luke 22:32). “Preach the word; be urgent in season and out of season” (2 Timothy 4:2). These imperatives define the papal vocation—not as one of appeasement or balance, but as proclamation and defense of Divine Truth. Pope Leo XIV was not elected to manage opinions or negotiate theological sensitivities. He was called, as every successor of Peter, to confirm the brethren in Truth. Yet in Mater Populi Fidelis, instead of affirming venerable Marian titles such as Co-Redemptrix and Mediatrix, he binds them as “likely to cause misunderstanding.” In doing so, he tacitly agrees with Protestant and secular objections rather than standing with the saints and theologians who have honored the Mother of God with clarity, conviction, and love.

The papal voice, meant to confirm the brethren, has become uncertain. The shepherd’s staff trembles in the hand of one who should wield it with the authority of Faith, not the caution of public relations.

VIII. The Lion of Oz

Dorothy says to the Lion, “You’re not a coward! You’re just confused about what courage is.” The same might be said, in a charitable sense, of Pope Leo XIV. Courage is not harshness, and silence is not humility. True courage is Charity in Truth—the willingness to speak what is divine even when it is misunderstood or opposed by the world. Like the Lion of Oz, the Holy Father may hesitate out of a desire for peace or unity, fearing that bold speech could wound rather than heal. Yet the paradox remains: both the Lion and the Pope are called to a battlefield they would rather avoid, one where genuine courage is found not in conflict for its own sake but in fidelity to the Truth that sets souls free.

At Lourdes and Fatima, the Blessed Mother did not whisper. She spoke with authority, warning of sin, Hell, chastisement, and the ultimate Triumph of her Immaculate Heart. She called for penance, for the daily Rosary, for acts of reparation and consecration to her maternal care. Yet Mater Populi Fidelis makes no mention of Fatima, no acknowledgment of the Immaculate Heart, and no reference to Marian victory over communism, modernism, or Satan himself.

This omission is not accidental. Like the Lion of Oz, Leo XIV seems tepid: Is he afraid of being labeled “unecumenical,” afraid of triumphalist language, and perhaps most tragically, afraid of appearing too Catholic? 

This spiritual anemia spreads quietly but decisively. The faithful, uncertain of what to believe, turn to private revelation without guidance, or to silence without hope. The dragon of Revelation 12 advances while the Lion sleeps. And so, the world grows darker—not because Truth has vanished, but because those called to proclaim it have lost their voice.

To be pope is to stand in the open field of history, exposed to misunderstanding and hatred, yet upheld by Grace. When a pontiff confuses meekness with muteness, he risks betraying the very office he holds. The roar of Peter must never sound like an apology for Christ or His Mother.

IV. Conclusion – The Silence of the Lion and the Mother of Her Faithful

The story of The Wizard of Oz ends with the Lion discovering that courage was never something to be granted—it was already within him, waiting to be claimed. So too, the Church’s shepherds must rediscover the courage that has always been theirs by Divine mandate. The roar that once shook the world—from the pulpits of saints, from the pens of popes, from the hearts of martyrs—has grown faint, muffled by the cautious diplomacy of our age. But silence in the face of truth is not prudence; it is abdication.

The Blessed Virgin Mary has never ceased to speak. From Guadalupe to Lourdes, from Fatima to Akita, her voice resounds with maternal urgency: “Do whatever He tells you.” Her call is not sentimental but militant—a summons to repentance, reparation, and fidelity. The Church’s task is not to tame her words but to proclaim them, not to reinterpret her glory but to magnify it. To reduce her titles is to obscure her mission; to muzzle her voice is to mute Heaven itself.

It is true that certain Marian titles—The Immaculate Conception, Mediatrix of All Graces, Co-Redemptrix—can be difficult to explain in a skeptical age. Yet difficulty is no reason for retreat. When Pope Pius IX declared the dogma of the Immaculate Conception in Ineffabilis Deus (1854), he acknowledged that the Mystery “is beyond the power of human words to express” and yet commanded the faithful “to hold it firmly and constantly.”¹ Likewise, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, long before the dogma’s formal definition, warned that “of Mary, there is never enough said” (de Maria numquam satis), for the mysteries surrounding her are inexhaustible precisely because they point to the inexhaustible Mystery of Christ. The Fathers and Doctors of the Church did not hesitate before Mystery; they approached it with reverence and reason, knowing that what is hard to explain is often what is most worth proclaiming.

If Pope Leo XIV fears misunderstanding, let him remember that the Cross was also misunderstood. If he hesitates to honor our Blessed Mother, let him recall that the Son Himself crowned her in glory. And if our age finds Marian devotion embarrassing, let it be remembered that every era which has silenced Mary has also silenced Christ.

The Lion must roar again. The Church must recover her Marian voice—not as a relic of devotion but as a proclamation of Truth. For when the Church ceases to honor our Immaculate Virgin Mother, she forgets the Mystery of the Incarnation. When she forgets that Mystery, she forgets herself.

Let the faithful then take up the sacred call the papacy has shunned. Let the sons and daughters of Mary roar in her defense until the shepherds awaken and remember their courage. For the triumph of the Immaculate Heart is not a poetic hope—it is a Divine promise. And when it comes, the Lion shall roar once more.

Endnotes

1. Mater Populi Fidelis, Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, November 4, 2025.
2. St. Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses, 3.22.4.
3. St. Athanasius, Oratio contra Arianos, 2.70
4. St. Ephrem the Syrian, Carmina Nisibena, 27.8.
5. St. Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermon on the Twelve Stars, PL 183:437.
6. St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort, True Devotion to Mary, n. 36.
7. St. Alphonsus Liguori, The Glories of Mary, Part 2, Discourse 6.
8. St. Maximilian Kolbe, Letters from Niepokalanów, February 17, 1941.
9. Pope Pius IX, Ineffabilis Deus (1854).
10. Pope Leo XIII, Supremi Apostolatus Officio (1883).
11. Pope St. Pius X, Ad Diem Illum Laetissimum (1904).
12. Pope Benedict XV, Inter Sodalicia (1918).
13. Pope St. John Paul II, Address at Guayaquil, Ecuador, January 31, 1985.
14. Pope Pius IX, Ineffabilis Deus (December 8, 1854), in The Papal Encyclicals, 1740–1878, ed. Claudia Carlen, IHM (Raleigh, NC: McGrath Publishing, 1981), 219.
15. St. Bernard of Clairvaux, Homilies in Praise of the Virgin Mother, Homily II, in The Works of Saint Bernard: Volume IV (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian Publications, 1971), 33.

Note: This essay was composed with the assistance of ChatGPT (GPT-5), an AI language model by OpenAI