Rebbe Nachman’s Chariot

I hope that my tears won’t short-circuit my keyboard. There are many stories about dedication in spreading emuna, but few can compare with the story of Mark Fisher. A terminal illness was mercilessly and systematically gnawing away at Mark’s body. All he cared about was encouraging the other oncology patients in the world famous Sloan-Kettering Medical Center in New York City. His heart’s desire was to utilize every last moment on this earth to spread Rebbe Nachman’s teachings – particularly the light of emuna – so that there wouldn’t be a single patient in the hospital who didn’t have the benefit of this medicine for the soul.

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Elijah the prophet was walking and discussing Torah with his prime pupil and disciple, Elisha. Suddenly, a chariot of fire with horses of fire descended from the sky. The horses and chariot separated between the teacher and his pupil, then took Elijah in a storm skyward to the Heavenly abode (see Kings II, 2:11).

Elijah’s exit from the physical world is one of the most dramatic accounts in the whole Tanach. Yet, we underestimate our own times, the threshold of the long-awaited Messianic age. Our generation has been blessed with hidden tzaddikim who also have left this world in a manner no less dramatic than Elijah in his chariot of fire. Let me tell you about one, whom Hashem gave me the privilege of knowing – Moshe Chaim (Mark) Fisher of saintly and blessed memory, from Flatbush in Brooklyn.

January, 2011

Mark’s body was hit really hard with the nasty big “C”, the disease whose name we don’t like to mention on our lips. Yet, his phenomenally optimistic emuna-filled mind and heart ruled his tormented body. In January of 2011, just a mere year ago, I saw Mark in the flesh for the last time. He had just gone through a stiff radiation treatment but he came directly from the hospital – chemo bag and all – to hear me speak that night in Flatbush.

Usually, chemo bags are filled with things like ginger ale, candies, and MP3s, things that help alleviate the devastating jolt that the body gets from chemo treatment.

Mark’s bag was filled with no less than a dozen copies of The Garden of Emuna and hundreds of emuna CDs. Even in Mark’s final weeks of hospitalization,  his bed was frequently empty; he’d be going from room to room, first on foot and later by wheel chair, spreading emuna. There wasn’t a patient in Sloan Kettering who didn’t have a copy of The Garden of Emuna if he or she would only be willing to read it.

September, 2011

Mark was already suffering advanced and incapacitating stages of the disease. Yet, he bought a ticket to Uman for Rosh Hashanah and even planned to stay with our group at the Uman Inn. People thought that Mark had lost his mind. A ticket to Uman? In his condition? Mark only smiled and said with perfect emuna and self composure, “Hashem can cure me at any moment if He wants. I must do my part – my hishtadlut – to go to my Rebbe on Rosh Hashanah. The rest is in Hashem’s hands…”

In Breslev tradition, it’s a known fact that Rebbe Nachman remains beholden to no one. Anyone who comes to Uman for Rosh Hashanah miraculously sees all his expenses returned to him in subsequent months, usually by Chanuka. Mark shelled out the money for Uman, but couldn’t travel when Rosh Hashanah eve arrived. Yet, Rebbe Nachman paid Mark back in full, as we’ll soon see…

December, 2011

Yosef Nechama and I arrived in the USA for my 2-week speaking tour. After my talk in Flatbush, a woman gave Yosef an envelope to give to me. Inside, a note informed us that Laurie Fisher, Mark’s ever-so-special and dedicated wife, was sitting shiva at their home in Flatbush. Mark had left this world right after the previous Shabbat was over and tomorrow – Friday – would be the last day of the shiva, the seven severe first days of mourning.

Laurie, preoccupied with losing her cherished and righteous husband, did not know we were in the USA. When Yosef and I walked into her living room – filled with close to a hundred people – she was wide-mouthed in disbelief: “Rabbi Lazer – it’s you! I can’t believe you’re here…”

At that moment, I understood why I was sent to the USA at that particular time…

Laurie told everyone the account of Mark’s last moment on earth. She had been by Mark’s side the whole Shabbat. As soon as Shabbat was over, she wanted to make Havdalah for Mark, but she didn’t have any matches to light the candle with. She didn’t want to leave Mark for even a moment, but she had no choice. She went to the nurses’ desk and asked for matches.

When Laurie returned to Mark’s hospital room, the monitor on the wall suddenly stopped beeping. Laurie wailed, for her husband’s heart had stopped beating…

A person doesn’t lie or exaggerate in his last moment on earth. The Zohar says that he sees the angel of death. In Mark’s case, the angel of death was not allowed to fetch him. Hashem used a different emissary for such a special, humble, concealed tzaddik as Mark…

The monitor showed no signs of life. Yet, Mark opened his eyes one last time and said to his grieving wife, “Laurie, why are you sad?  Rebbe Nachman is here!”

Rebbe Nachman came in his own chariot to fetch Mark. Mark used every ounce of strength for hafatza, to spread Rebbe Nachman’s teachings as we receive them from our beloved rabbi and teacher Rav Shalom Arush, shlit’a. Mark made every effort to come to Uman for Rosh Hashanah, but couldn’t. Now was payback time – Rebbe Nachman was coming to Mark. The Rebbe was taking Mark in his own chariot skyward.

Was Mark’s exit from the physical world any less dramatic than Elijah’s? I don’t think so.

Mark’s legacy teaches us the value of hafatza, outreach, and the value of Uman on Rosh Hashanah. We will certainly miss him. We pray that Laurie will be able to raise the children with ease, both financially and otherwise, and that Hashem personally should console her among all the other mourners of Zion and Yerushalayim, amen.

In Loving Memory of Moshe Chaim (Mark) Fisher, ob”m