Why does a soul descend from Heaven into a fragile human body — into a complicated, noisy, distracted life? Any employee is informed of their responsibilities. Why would we be any different?
Kaballah, the teachings of Jewish mysticism, reveals the answer. According to Arizal, the greatest Kabbalist of the past 1,000 years, a soul comes into this world to fulfill the 613 mitzvahs of the Torah. Each mitzvah is not merely a good deed or moral act. It is a spiritual connector, one of 613 living channels that bind the soul to G-d.
In 1951, the Rebbe explained that mitzvahs aren’t merely commandments, they are pipelines. Each one draws divine connection into a specific part of the soul. When a mitzvah is fulfilled, that strand is repaired. When it is missing, the connection remains incomplete.
And if the soul does not complete its mission, it returns.
Reincarnation in Judaism is not mystical poetry. It is spiritual accounting. Unfinished work demands continuation. The soul comes back not because it failed, but because it still cares.
Now comes the question that haunts every thinking Jew: How is this even possible?
Most mitzvahs are simply not available to us. Many can be performed only by certain segments of the population, such as Kohanim (priests), Leviim, or kings. Many depend on the Holy Temple in Jerusalem or to the land of Israel. Today, in exile, we can actively fulfill only a fraction of the Torah. According to the Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan in The Concise Book of Mitzvahs, the number of commandments from the Torah that can be actively observed today is just 271 out of 613, including only 77 action mitzvahs and 194 prohibitions.
So are we all destined to keep coming back? The Arizal teaches that a soul can reincarnate up to seven times. But here is the urgency of our moment. The Rebbe promised that Moshiach is coming in our lifetimes. The world is restless. If redemption is truly at the door, how do we finish now? How do we make sure our souls are complete and ready, without another return trip?
The Talmud teaches that whoever occupies himself with the laws of a burnt offering is considered as if he offered it. Learning is not a substitute. It is a form of fulfillment. What cannot be done physically can be completed through study. The connection is made. The channel opens.
This truth unlocks one of the most famous and misunderstood stories in Jewish history.
A gentile entered the study hall of Shammai the Elder and asked to “learn the entire Torah while standing on one foot.” Shammai became angry at the superficial approach and pushed him away with the builder’s measuring rod in his hand. The gentile crossed the street to Hillel’s study hall, and Hillel answered: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow; the rest is commentary — go and learn” (Talmud, Tractate Shabbat 31a).
The question being asked by the gentile was not facetious. He was seeking to learn the entire Torah while standing on one regel (one foot). Regel also means an occasion. He was enquiring how he could fulfill the whole Torah in one visit, one lifetime, without having to return through reincarnation. This was not arrogance. It was existential desperation. He was asking the deepest question a human being can ask. How do I finish in one trip? How do I live once and be done?
Perceiving the authenticity of his question, Hillel does not dismiss him. He gives a two-part answer. First, love your fellow as yourself. When you bind yourself to the Jewish people, you become part of something larger. The merit of the collective flows through you. Then Hillel adds, “The rest is explanation, go and learn.” Learning completes what action cannot. Study transforms impossibility into fulfillment. When you study the Torah, it’s considered as if you fulfilled it. Learn the whole Torah and you won’t need to shlep back into this world a second time.
With this clarity, we can appreciate a peculiar negotiation between the great Babylonian sage Rav Ashi, editor of the Talmud, and the Angel of Death himself in the early fifth century. The Talmud relates that when the Angel of Death came for him, he asked for an extension of 30 days. The purpose of his request was not to settle affairs, not to rest, but to review the entire Talmud. He wanted to be certain that every possible connection had been made. He wanted to leave his mission in this world finished by reviewing all the 613 commandments of the Torah. No loose ends. No return ticket.
This is why the Rebbe launched an amazing initiative to help us achieve our mission on this Earth. In the spring of 1984, he instituted a structured cycle of learning the 613 mitzvahs in daily portions so that one could complete the entire work annually or in a multi-year cycle.
Though Moses brought us the Torah on Mount Sinai, centuries later in 1178 CE in Egypt, one man understood that this structure had to be accessible in every generation. Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, the Rambam, also known as Maimonides, organized all 613 mitzvahs into a single, comprehensive system. Every law. Every scenario. Practical mitzvahs and those that belong to Temple times. He did this while fleeing the fanatical Almohades, living as a refugee, carrying Torah while running for his life. Because the Rambam understood something vital: A Jew must know the whole map, even if not every road is currently open.
Thus, the Rebbe instituted the practice of studying the daily Rambam (Maimonides). Not as another study option, but as a completion plan. When a Jew learns the daily Mitzvahs of Maimonides, he or she touches every mitzvah. And when Jews around the world learn the same Rambam on the same day, something extraordinary happens: unity of Torah and unity of souls.
And perhaps that is the Rebbe’s message to our generation. We are too close to the end for half-lives and partial souls. Maimonides is not just learning. It is closure. It is peace. It is finishing what we came here to do.
Rabbi Dovid Vigler is the spiritual leader at Chabad of Palm Beach Gardens, with over 85,000 subscribers to his YouTube channel, youtube.com/jewishgardens. Email him at [email protected].
