It was part chesed part joke part social experiment.

The Zlotchover Rebbe Rav Mordechai Meir Mechlowitz was a sweet Jew. His father Reb Mecha’le had a small devoted group of chassidim in Netanya and Monsey and when he passed away his son assumed his title of Zlotchover Rebbe.

Rebbe Mordechai Meir of Bnei Brak wasn’t considered successful by today’s gauge. After years of waiting he and the Rebbetzin were finally blessed with a child but the boy was ill and until this day he lives in a special facility in Emanuel. The chassidus never really took off: The mosdos he tried valiantly to launch were faced with bureaucratic obstacles and financial impediments poor timing or the wrong location. When the Rebbetzin passed away it was just the Rebbe and his tiny shul.

And then the media stepped in. Motivated by kindness perhaps a trace of mirth mixed in they started to treat the Rebbe like one of the celebrated admorim. The chareidi newspapers picture magazines and websites were suddenly swamped with images and videos of the Rebbe who seemed a willing participant. The “joke” spiraled out of control as dispatches were sent forth from “Malchus Beis Zlotchov ” prominent personalities referred to as “yedid Beis Zlotchov.”

I met the Rebbe. He oozed sweetness and warmth but he seemed genuinely clueless about the noise seeing himself not as a media experiment but as a Rebbe and the chassidim were finally coming. The lines of good taste were crossed at times like when exuberant bochurim excited at being part of this gag would dance around him in the street singing “Ohr Zarua Latzaddik ” or kissing his hand. The Rebbe was hosted on the radio teased and respected at once.

The general sentiment seemed to be that it was win/win all around: The lonely Rebbe was getting notice while the media was having fun with this fresh means of entertainment. Some justified it as a profound social statement kind of a parody of the superficiality of today’s generation where the Rebbe’s purchase of a new car or beketshe becomes news. Look they were saying here’s a good Jew with fine yichus and a good heart and we the media will re-invent him as “Rabbeinu Hagadol.” Watch us work our magic.

But to others it looked like they were mocking an old man.

Then a strange thing happened. A few weeks ago on his visit to his son the Rebbe took his hand and said “The travel is getting very difficult for me. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep coming but know that I love you very very much.” That Erev Shabbos the Rebbe went to the mikveh and purified himself. He purchased challos for Shabbos along with some food and treats for poor families in his building. As he walked home his expression serene as he schlepped the large shopping bags people snapped photos on their phones. You know just for fun.

And minutes later in his lonely apartment the Zlotchover Rebbe passed away.

And suddenly the joke wasn’t funny. The little game was over.

And an unsettling feeling began to spread. Maybe the Rebbe was really the one who was laughing? Maybe he was the real tzaddik here not the ones who patronized him with cameras and giggled requests for brachos? Maybe this baal yissurim was smiling about his secret?

Maybe the little lonely man in the silk beketshe was running a legitimate Baal Shem Tov–style operation in his sorry little shtiebel?

Vatis’chak l’yom acharon. Maybe the Zlotchover Rebbe was laughing at them all knowing that when the final day would come the joke would give them pause.

The final day has come. The Rebbe is gone and this might be his enduring lesson. Don’t be so quick to laugh — because the joke might well be on you.