Another prayer's end, and Henry is gone...

 22 July 2025

 

 

Shalom friends,

 

Earlier this month I asked many to pray among other concerns for a Jewish man in Alabama, for whom I’ve been in prayer since he and I met up in April this year. His name is Henry, and on 19 July he passed away. His believing daughter Anne wrote to tell me of his passing. I’m sad, especially for her and her loving family. Henry had nosedived into his last few weeks with some medication problems that caused his personality to shift, but that’s over now.

 

I considered what we were able to do as missionaries with Henry. His daughter has been on our mailing list for years, and when I wrote to people on that list inviting them to attend my preachment there in Montgomery, Anne showed up. She told me about her dad and his story was a big one. He had served in the US military as a pilot and was in a facility for veterans with needs. It was a lovely place with terrific staff, and Henry seemed to be in good shape.

 

His place was over an hour away from my next stop in southeast Alabama, and I was scheduled to drive back north and preach the next night, but I sensed in my spirit that I needed to go see him. Other things attracted my attention, but I couldn’t get Henry out of my mind. I added him to my prayer list, then drove from Eufaula that 67 miles. Lovely scenery, and continued prayers. 

When I arrived, we hit it off immediately. Henry told me stories of his military adventures, and his love for his family. We shared about things Jewish, and I shared my testimony of faith in Yeshua. He was all ears. God had clearly softened his heart, but his resistance was up when it came to personalizing faith in Messiah. I gave him my testimony in book form, and he was grateful to receive it. 

 

It wasn’t many weeks before Anne told me of Henry’s fading and then when he finally succumbed to his end, another wave hit Anne and I’m sure her brother, and many others in the family. It even hit me! And for that I wasn’t ready.

 

An Ezrahite named Eitan wrote Psalm 89, with great confidence in God and in his plans for his people, and in the midst, he writes, 

מִ֤י גֶ֣בֶר יִֽ֭חְיֶה וְלֹ֣א יִרְאֶה־מָּ֑וֶת

 

“What man can live and not see death? Can he deliver his soul from the power of Sheol?” (Psalm 89.48)

 

No one! Just a few weeks ago, I lost one of my best mates, with whom I walked through elementary, junior and senior high school back in Kansas City, and in the last couple of years, some others who were close to me all died in KC, also about my age. I had shared with each of them about the Gospel. What comfort do I have?

 

Some well-meaning believers try to comfort me with niceties like, “I’m sure the Lord heard your prayers and in the last minute will make him come to believe” or the “he blinked twice” or “I felt him squeeze my hand when…” or other such assurances. 

 

My assurance is what Abraham said, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” (Gen. 18:25) And honestly, I can sleep in faith because I did what I could. Ezekiel the prophet was sent to a people who wouldn’t listen to him, but God gave him comfort with these words, “if you have warned the righteous man that the righteous should not sin and he does not sin, he shall surely live because he took warning; and you have delivered yourself.” (3.21)

I bought my KC mate the DVD series “The Chosen” seasons 1 and 2 and his nurse told me that he watched it regularly. Along with our regular spiritual discussions, I can honestly say, “The Judge of the earth will deal justly.” 

 

The evening Anne let others know about her dad’s passing, she went outside her home and right there, over the top of her father’s house was a spectacular rainbow. For her it was a comfort. For me it is a comfort. 

 

Timing really matters. Prayer matters. Please, when someone asks you to pray for them, or you feel an urgency to pray for a situation, don’t delay. Like Nike says, “Just do it.”  I will send you another prayer update soon, but this note is sent to you today to highlight two things. 1) Make sure you respond to the nudge of the Holy Spirit when he leads you to intercede for a particular person or enterprise or ANYthing and 2) be faithful as much as it’s up to you, to share the Gospel with others, in whatever measure of sharing their reactions allow. 

 

Time is short, and we just don’t know what is happening in another’s life. Pray for them to have dreams, for others to join us in Gospel witness, for strength and wisdom for us, and for one another. 

 

Thanks for all you do in keeping us out here sharing Yeshua!

 

A time to mourn: Dr Robert Levene

Mt Carmel Cemetery in KC

Last weekend I flew to Kansas City. I was in town a total of 17 hours. Then back to the airport and on to Nashville. Most of the people who attended the funeral of our friend (or for some, a family member) lived nearby and they could attend not only to the chapel and gravesite services, but also to Shiva held later that afternoon. I had to head back before the Shiva gathering.  

They say, "funerals are for the living, not for the dead." They may be right. The reason we gathered at Mt Carmel was to farewell Dr Robert Levene. For some it was cathartic; for others appropriate and polite; for me, it was very personal. Bob and his family had moved to our neighbourhood when we were about 10, and he and I became fast friends. We were both November babies, and thus usually among the youngest in our classes. He was 10 days my junior.  Early on we played together, sometimes with others from the school or the synagogue to which we both were regular in attendance. He and I were very often playing singles tennis until the middle of junior high school. We were in the same class in Hebrew school and graduated there in 1966. We rode bikes together. I remember a time Bob was over at my house and my parents were gone somewhere. My sister was 'in charge' and for whatever reason she determined it necessary, she chased him out of the house with a broom. Needless to say, Bob didn't return very soon after that.

Hebrew school graduation

We played chess and had tournaments at his house or ours. Other Jewish boys from the neighbourhood joined us. We loved science and had a chemistry club in at least my garage, maybe in his, I don't remember. Nowadays we would have video evidence from our TikTok and YouTube channels, but back then, nope. All we had and have is our memories.

Maybe that's why we attend funerals. To recapture the lost memories. To remember. To remind ourselves we were not always 73 yearss old. Of course, memories are often seen through glasses that are rose-coloured. Especially as times increase between them and us from hours to days to decades. So one person tells a story, and without a challenge, those stories will now remain true for all time. And as each person passes out of our spheres, less corroboration is possible. Oh for a journalist among us who would keep the truths and keep them accurately. 

Dr Bob as he came to be known was a searcher, an inquisitive, a man of 20,000 books in his library, which no doubt will be dismantled. He ended his life with some significant satisfaction. In the final week, he got to see his grandchildren who are both pre-school aged. What a treasure that is to Bob's two sons and it was to him as well, I'm sure. 

We argued about so many things, and in his most lucid moments over the last five years, those arguments were healthy and cordial, loving and respectful, as all debates ought to be between friends. He wondered about eternity and his final resting place. He listened as I explained my views on God, on Jesus, on resurrection and eternity. I bought him a Bible and had his name engraved on the front. Another time I brought him a couple of DVDs from the tv series "The Chosen" and according to his attendants, he really enjoyed watching those. 

We stopped playing tennis back in school days, and Hebrew and chemistry gave way to other pursuits, but friendship knows no bounds and no insurmountable obstacles. In the last 18 months I've lost some men in KC with whom I walked in my youth, like Dave Rabinowitz and Danny Kass, like Hyman Seifer and now Levene. 

When I return to visit my sister and some local KC family and friends, a piece of my life will be missing. I'm a better man for knowing Dr Bob. Maybe he was better for knowing me, but that's not for me to know or at this point, even to consider. 

Today, what am I going to do to make the world in which I live a better place? Tennis has given way to pickleball. Chemistry has given way to other academic interests, especially history. Synagogue continues and has widen to messianic interests and the Gospel Truth has replaced true-enough thinking. 

Each day I age, but only one day at a time. Our lives in Prairie Village gave way to St Joseph for him and New York City, Chicago, San Francisco, Washington, DC, and Sydney Australia for me. But home is where the heart is, and our hearts were ever together then, and he remains in mine to this day. Funerals are for the living.