The undefined, the "Gate of Reincarnations," part of the teachings of the Ari, Rabbi Isaac Luria, a 16th-century Kabbalist, offers a fascinating, complex, and ultimately hopeful answer. It suggests that when a person earns their Nefesh, Ruach, and Neshama – those three levels of soul, roughly translated as "vitality," "spirit," and "soul" – and then damages them through sin, the soul doesn't just get a slap on the wrist. It necessitates a journey. A return. A gilgul, a reincarnation, to fix what was broken.
Think of it like a shattered vase. You can't just glue it back together and expect it to be as strong as it was before. Each shard needs individual attention, careful mending.
So, according to the Sha’ar HaGilgulim, when we return in a new life, we initially only get our Nefesh back. But here’s the catch: because the Nefesh was damaged before, the Ruach, our spirit, can’t immediately join us. It's as if the connection is severed. Even if we rectify the sins that damaged the Nefesh in this new life, the blemished Ruach can't simply waltz back in. It, too, needs repair. How can a damaged spirit rest upon a rectified vitality?
Instead, this Ruach enters another person – often, we’re told, the Nefesh of a Ger, a convert to Judaism. The Ger has a brand-new, untainted Nefesh, providing a fertile ground for the damaged Ruach to begin its healing. The same principle applies to the Neshama, the soul.
Now, what happens when the Nefesh is finally fully repaired? It's ready to receive its Ruach. But remember, our original Ruach is either still damaged or residing in someone else, undergoing its own rectification. So, what fills the void?
Here's where it gets truly beautiful. Another Ruach steps in – specifically, the Ruach of a Tzaddik, a righteous individual, who shares a similar soul source. By joining their Ruach to this person, the Tzaddik participates in the good deeds performed, and their own Ruach is elevated through this interaction. It’s a symbiotic relationship, a spiritual partnership. The same process can occur with the Neshama, where the person receives the Neshama of a Tzaddik while their own is being rectified elsewhere.
This, the text suggests, is the secret behind the saying that "Tzaddikim are greater in their death than during their lifetime."
And what happens when we die in this lifetime? Our Nefesh goes with the Ruach of the Tzaddik, ascending to the high levels of Gan Eden, Paradise, where the Tzaddik resides. This allows us to receive a greater level of shefa, divine radiance, the same shefa the Tzaddik experiences.
Later, when our own Ruach returns from its gilgul, from its time in the other person, the Nefesh of that person – the Ger who helped rectify the Ruach through their good deeds – joins us at our level. It’s a homecoming, a reunion of fragmented parts. Our original Nefesh, like a lost lover, declares, "I will go and return to my first husband," reuniting with the Ruach that has been healed. And finally, the Neshama rejoins the Nefesh and the Ruach in the same way, completing the circle.
What a powerful image, right? This idea that our souls aren't static, but dynamic, constantly evolving, and seeking wholeness. The journey of reincarnation, according to the Sha’ar HaGilgulim, isn't just about paying for past mistakes. It's about the slow, painstaking work of rebuilding ourselves, piece by piece, with the help of others, until we are finally, truly, whole. It's a process of profound repair.