My favourite Torah reading is Lech Lecha, the story of Abraham, at age 75, being told to “Go for yourself from your homeland and your parents' home to a land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1). Abraham went on that journey of self-discovery, found what he loved within Judaism and flourished.

That pretty much summarizes my life story. I spent my early years within the world of Jewish Orthodoxy, then I wandered for a while, and later, I slowly found a way back to places and experiences in Judaism that were beyond my imagining.

My Jewish roots were set by my parents, Nathan and Carmela Finkel, and their experiences in Europe before their separate immigration to Canada. They were born in Poland, in nearby towns in Galicia. My father had rabbinical students and rabbis in his family history, but this was not his path. His father died very young, his mother had no income as a widow, and my father did anything he could to bring money and food into the home. He came to Winnipeg in 1937 at age 18 with his mother and younger brother. He was desperate for a new start, joining two sisters who had come earlier. He left one brother behind, Avrum, who perished in the Holocaust with his wife and baby daughter. I am named after Avrum, a name I hold dear, as he was, by all accounts, quite intellectual with a love of books. In Canada, my father had a grain and cattle farm in Eriksdale, Manitoba, and he would commute to and from our home in Winnipeg. He later had an auto-wrecking business and trucking company, as well.

My mother, Carmela, my aunt Betty, and their parents, Leon and Caroline Shragge, were hit hard by the horrors of the Holocaust. My mother, born in 1933, was eight years old when the Nazis occupied their town of Radziechow, north of Lvov. Polish neighbours hid her and her family (the Ochotski and Gogala families, now listed as Righteous among the Nations at Yad Va'shem). Of the 3,400 Jews in their town, fifteen survived, including their family of four. The Shragge family had been part of that community for over 120years and lost over 100 close family members.

In 1948, my grandparents had the choice to go to Israel, where they had close family, or Canada, a strange new land. They chose Canada because of the safety it offered. On arrival in Winnipeg and without any English, my grandfather started as a bookkeeper with Shragge Metals, and my grandmother became the beloved Head of the Kitchen at the Sharon Home, a position she held until age 85.

My parents met in Winnipeg in February 1953, married six weeks later, and I was born in 1954. I am the oldest of five children: my sisters Marla, Mona and Gina, and my youngest brother Sheldon. We grew up on Inkster Blvd in Winnipeg's North End, and being part of the Jewish community was a high priority for our parents. I attended Talmud Torah and Joseph Wolinsky Collegiate up to Grade 12, graduating in 1972. My family also attended the orthodox Talmud Torah synagogue. I joined Cantor Brownstone's choir at age 6 as a soprano and later his High Holiday choir at age 9. He actually liked me and would throw the legendary handful of rulers over my head to hit the person behind me.

I started to disconnect from the North End Jewish experience by my mid-teens. My grandmother and mother lovingly joked that I asked too many questions but noted that I was thoughtful in finding my answers. It was the 1960s, and I wandered away from Judaism and into the world. In my late twenties, I met a wonderful woman, Anne, at a running workout (I was running marathons). Eventually, we had three remarkable kids – Lauren, Evan and Jordan in 1987, 1989 and 1990.

Anne wasn't Jewish. We never considered conversion and hadn't figured out how to raise our children. In 1990, a close friend encouraged me to bring my daughter to a Yom Kippur children's service at Temple Shalom, a place I had never heard of. I was entranced by its focus on ethical living, its beautiful updates to old traditions, and especially how Reform Judaism was prepared to see my children as Jews. We joined, and our kids went to Brock Corydon School and had Bnai Mitzvahs at Temple Shalom. For about ten years, I was a member of or chaired the Ritual Committee at Temple Shalom, and around 2002, I was asked to lay lead a service and then another and another. Engaging in Jewish education as an adult was a surprising and delightful experience. I had no idea it would lead to my becoming a rabbi much later.

Becoming a rabbi was actually my sixth career, so I'll fill in the blanks. I attended law school at the University of Manitoba, then practiced in my "expected career" for five years but loved little of it. At that time, people I trusted pointed out my gifts in the volunteer world, especially with the Manitoba Runners Association and Winnipeg Folk Festival. One friend encouraged me to get an MBA with a view to becoming the race director of the Manitoba Marathon. And I thrived. I discovered a unique leadership skillset as a "change agent" with a particular passion for struggling organizations. I spent fifteen years in three organizations in executive director positions, starting with the Manitoba Marathon. I always left them in much better shape once I was done. There are various Honourary Builder awards in my possession, plus one hanging at the Rady JCC in the Jewish Builders of Sport Hall of Fame.

Working in the volunteer world is remarkable and unbelievably rewarding, but it can be tough on family life. I loved living in the world of “tikkun olam” all day and all evening long, but I also wanted to be an engaged dad. So, I shifted to a government-appointed position with the Appeal Commission for Workers Compensation, where a three-year commitment somehow lasted for 21 years to age 65.

But life isn’t meant to be smooth and easy. The challenges faced by my parents in their early lives affected me in my childhood, and there would be a price to pay later. In my case, it was depression, a quietly failing marriage, and then a serious drug addiction in my early 50s. Three years later, in 2009, I found a path to recovery. To my surprise, I discovered incredible Jewish recovery books written by rabbis that inspired me to explore Judaism much more deeply.

When I was 60, Temple Shalom’s cantor, Len Udow, asked me if I would consider being a rabbi. I laughed and declined the offer, which he repeated again the next year and the next. Somehow, it became a reality. I was ordained through the Jewish Spiritual Learning Institute in New York in 2019,at age 65, and started as the rabbi at Temple Shalom, my spiritual home, two weeks later. I have been blessed to give back so much of what I have learned -as a Jew and especially from my lived experience. I have loved the public experiences of being a rabbi, but even more, I love the quiet moments, working with families and individuals in both painful and joyous moments, including interfaith couples or the remarkable people who want to journey into Judaism. I am so proud of our work on the Winnipeg Council of Rabbis to break down old barriers and embrace Jewish pluralism in Winnipeg. I have been especially blessed to describe myself as a “recovery rabbi’ and to be active in destigmatizing addictions and mental health issues within our Jewish community, including working with Jewish Child and Family Service in the spiritual care area.

My joy and life have been defined by those closest to me, including my partner Barb Neaman, my closest friends, and the spiritual and volunteer communities, all of whom are integral to my life and my sense of meaning. My three adult children, now living in Kelowna, BC, are remarkable, kind, loving, weird and interesting. I visit my siblings on weekly Zoom calls every Tuesday at 5 pm, and we have a cousins Zoom calls every second Sunday.

My mother Carmela passed away in 2020, an early casualty of COVID. For my family, her life was defined by her childhood experiences in the Holocaust and later in her transmission of those stories to the next generations. The idea of creating a fund in her name and in her honour was an obvious choice. I contribute to the Carmela Shragge Finkel Holocaust Education Fund every year, and I will continue to do so through my will.

Rabbi Akiva once said that the whole Torah could be distilled down to one line: Love your neighbour as yourself. I have been blessed to find the truth within these words. It is about finding a profound connection with the world and doing so through a Jewish lens.  

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