We often think of prayer as something we do, a way to connect with the Divine. But Jewish tradition sometimes paints a different picture, one where God, in a sense, prays too.

How do we even know such a thing? Well, the Book of Isaiah (56:7) gives us a clue. It says, "I will bring them to My sacred mount, and let them rejoice in My house of prayer." Notice that little word: My house of prayer. The text doesn't say "their house of prayer," but God's house of prayer. So, the rabbis of old asked, doesn't that imply that God Himself engages in prayer?

But what exactly is God’s prayer? What could the Creator of the Universe possibly need to ask for?

According to the Talmud, specifically in Berakhot 7a, God’s prayer is this: "May it be My will that My mercy overcome My anger, and that My mercy dominate My attributes. May I act toward My children with the attribute of mercy, and go beyond the strict measure of the law.”

Think about that for a moment. God, praying for mercy. Praying to temper justice with compassion. It's a profoundly humanizing image of the Divine.

The tradition, as explained in Otzar ha-Kavod, paints God as actively working to ensure that kindness and forgiveness prevail. It's not that God is inherently angry, but rather that divine justice, in its pure form, can be harsh. So, God, in this beautiful understanding, is constantly striving to see the world through the lens of rachamim (mercy) rather than simply through the exacting dictates of din (strict justice).

This idea of God participating in prayer rituals alongside the Jewish people isn't an isolated one. There are other compelling stories. For example, some traditions describe God studying Torah (as we find in "God Studies the Torah" in Schwartz's Tree of Souls), even donning tallit (prayer shawl) and tefillin (phylacteries) – physical symbols of devotion and remembrance. There's even the notion of God having a Tabernacle, a dwelling place, just as the Israelites did ("God's Tabernacle"). These aren’t meant to be taken literally, of course, but they offer rich metaphors.

And it gets even more interesting! Some accounts depict God singing praises of Israel, mirroring the way Israel sings praises of God. It’s a reciprocal relationship, a divine call-and-response.

This prayer attributed to God also echoes a blessing recited by Rabbi Ishmael in a vision of Akatriel Yah – one of God’s many names – on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, while he's in the Holy of Holies (as described in "The Lord of Hosts"). The connection highlights the idea that even in the most sacred moments, the theme of divine mercy is central.

What does this all mean? Perhaps it means that even God, in a certain sense, needs to be reminded of the importance of compassion. Perhaps it's a way of saying that mercy isn't automatic; it requires conscious effort, even on a divine level. It certainly suggests that the qualities we strive for – kindness, forgiveness, understanding – are not just human aspirations, but divine ones as well.

So, the next time you pray, consider the possibility that you're not just reaching out to God, but also participating in a cosmic conversation, joining God in the ongoing work of bringing more mercy into the world.