And Jewish tradition, in its wonderfully audacious way, even imagines God putting on a tallit and tefillin. Yes, you read that right. God, wrapping Himself in a prayer shawl and binding phylacteries.
Sound a little… unexpected? Let's unpack it.
The idea isn't some radical, new-age invention. It’s rooted in our sacred texts. As Rabbi Howard Schwartz points out in Tree of Souls, the idea of God donning a tallit, a fringed prayer shawl, comes from a powerful verse in Psalm 104:2: “Who covers Yourself with light as with a garment.” (Psalm 104:2). Think about that image for a moment. God, cloaked in pure, radiant light.
But what about tefillin? Those small, leather boxes containing scrolls with verses from the Torah, bound to the arm and head during morning prayer? That’s a bit more surprising, isn’t it?
Here, the connection is drawn from Isaiah 62:8: “Yahweh has sworn by His right hand, and by the arm of His strength.” (Isaiah 62:8). But what does God swearing by His arm mean? The rabbis of the Talmud understood “His right hand” to refer to the Torah itself. And "the arm of His strength?" That, they said, refers to the tefillin.
The tradition even goes further. According to the Midrash, it was God who taught Moses how to tie the knot of the tefillin! Imagine that scene for a moment. Moses, receiving instruction directly from the Divine on this sacred practice. It emphasizes the profound importance of this ritual.
So, what exactly is written in God's tefillin? It’s not quite what you might expect. According to tradition, God's tefillin declare: "Who is like Your people Israel, a unique nation on earth" (1 Chronicles 17:21). Think about the implications! The Divine, acknowledging and celebrating the uniqueness and preciousness of the Jewish people. It’s a powerful statement of love and connection.
But who actually helps God with this daily ritual? The tradition isn’t entirely settled. Some say the angel Michael binds tefillin to God’s head each day. Others say it’s Metatron, the angel closest to the Divine throne. And still others point to Sandalphon, another high-ranking angel.
Ultimately, the specifics aren’t as important as the underlying message: that even the Divine engages in a form of prayer, acknowledging the special relationship with creation, and specifically with the people of Israel.
So, what does this all mean? Is it literal? Is God actually wearing tefillin in some celestial realm? Probably not in the way we understand it. But these images, these stories, offer us a profound glimpse into the heart of Jewish theology. They speak to a God who is not distant or detached, but intimately involved in the world, a God who cherishes relationship and celebrates the unique beauty of creation. And in imagining God putting on tefillin, perhaps we, too, can find a deeper connection to our own prayers and our own sense of belonging.