They had a knack for seeing the sacred in the mundane, and Vayikra Rabbah (Leviticus Rabbah), a collection of rabbinic teachings on the book of Leviticus, is full of such gems. Let's dive into one particular passage, Vayikra Rabbah 34, which uses the verse "The man of kindness does good for himself" (Proverbs 11:17) as a springboard for exploring what it truly means to be kind – and to care for oneself.

The passage begins by introducing us to Hillel the Elder, a prominent Jewish sage of the 1st century BCE. It recounts a fascinating exchange between Hillel and his disciples. As Hillel takes his leave, his disciples, curious as ever, ask where he's going. "To perform a mitzva," Hillel replies. A mitzva, of course, is a commandment or good deed. Intrigued, they press him: "What mitzva is this?"

Now, brace yourselves. Hillel's answer is beautifully unexpected: "To bathe in the bathhouse."

"Is that a mitzva?" they ask, perhaps with a touch of incredulity. Hillel's response is a masterclass in seeing the divine image in the human form. He explains, "If the statues of kings that are placed in theaters and circuses, the one who is appointed over them scrubs them and washes them, and they provide him with sustenance, and moreover, he is exalted among the prominent leaders of the kingdom; I who was created in the likeness and image [of God], as it is written: 'For in the image of God, He made man' (Genesis 9:6), all the more so."

Wow. Hillel is saying that if we lavish care on inanimate objects that represent earthly power, how much more should we care for our own bodies, which are made in the very image of God? Taking care of ourselves, then, isn't selfish; it's a recognition of the divine spark within us. It’s an act of reverence.

The passage continues with another anecdote about Hillel. Again, he's leaving his disciples, and again, they ask where he's going. This time, he says he's off "to perform an act of kindness with the guest inside the house."

"Every day you have a guest?" they inquire.

Hillel's answer is profound: "And is this wretched soul not a guest inside the body; one day it is here, the next day it is not here." He sees his own soul, his very life force, as a temporary visitor within his body. Taking care of his physical needs, then, becomes an act of hospitality towards this precious, fleeting guest. What a beautiful way to frame self-care!

The passage then shifts its focus slightly, offering another interpretation of Proverbs 11:17: "The man of kindness does good for himself, and one who abuses his flesh is cruel." Rabbi Alexandri suggests this refers to someone who has a reason to celebrate but doesn't invite their relatives due to poverty. Rabbi Naḥman adds a cosmic perspective. He connects this to the verse "For it is due to [biglal] this matter" (Deuteronomy 15:10), noting that biglal sounds like galgal, meaning "cycle." The idea is that fortunes rise and fall; those who have means now may become needy later, and vice versa. Moses cautions, "If your brother will become poor."

In other words, being generous and kind – especially when you have the means – is not just about helping others; it's about participating in a larger cycle of giving and receiving, a cycle that ultimately benefits everyone, including yourself. The mitzva of giving tzedakah (charity) isn’t just altruism, it is recognizing our shared fate.

So, what can we take away from this ancient text? Perhaps it's a reminder to be kind to ourselves, recognizing the divine image within. Or maybe it's an encouragement to be generous and compassionate, understanding that our fortunes are intertwined. Maybe both. The rabbis, through these stories and interpretations, invite us to see the world – and ourselves – in a new light, to find meaning in the everyday, and to live a life of kindness, both inward and outward. And isn't that something worth striving for?