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Pastor Rudy Fidel has had an unabiding love for Jews and Israel for over 40 years

Rudy FidelBy BERNIE BELLAN In formulating ideas for writing this particular article I spent a considerable amount of time reading materials pertaining to Christian Zionism. I admit that I am still more than a little confused when I hear devout Christians refer to their belief in “Hashem,” using the same term as one would expect to hear from someone who is Jewish.

Yet, as I read more about the long history of Christian Zionism and its various permutations I can more easily understand how someone can claim to be both a devout Christian and an ardent Zionist. 

But, when you hear someone like Pastor Rudy Fidel expound upon his love for Israel, as he did to at a recent meeting of the Remis Lecture Group at the Gwen Secter Centre on October 20th, well – trying to understand Fidel’s religious orientation is no easy task.

Fidel’s love for Israel is obvious; as of the time of writing he has been to Israel 23 times, beginning in 1986. As pastor of Faith Temple for the past 40 years he has been consistent and steadfast not only in promoting support for Israel, his devotion has led to others in his church contributing hundreds of thousands of dollars to Israel.

During his talk at the Gwen Secter Centre Fidel referred to one particular couple that belongs to Faith Temple (although without divulging their names) who have purchased an astounding five ambulances for Magen David Adom, on top of which they have contributed $100,000 for Holocaust survivors.

But, when it comes to explaining what has led Fidel to harbour such a deep love for Israel and a general affinity for Jews, well, it’s not easy obtaining an answer from him for that.

In material found on the Christian Friends of Israel website, it’s noted that Fidel was mentored by Dr. Ingrid Bergner when she was Fidel’s predecessor as pastor of Faith Temple. According to the website, “Dr. Bergner visited Israel in 1967, just two weeks before the Six Day War and returned seared with a passion for this holy land…It was Bergner who mentored  Rudy through his long years at Faith Temple…But he not only undertook the leadership of the church – he undertook the mantle of leading groups to Israel.”

The Six Day War, it has been observed, was not only pivotal in awakening a much closer interest and affection for Israel among many Jews, it also led to much stronger support among many branches of Protestant Christianity. For many Evangelical Christians, Israel’s lighting victory in that war was a sign that the fulfillment of the prophecy of the coming of the Messiah was at hand.

Rudy Fidel, however, simply dispenses with any talk of the return of the Messiah. Something he said to his audience at Gwen Secter when he spoke – and which I’m sure came as quite the surprise to almost everyone who was there, is that there is not a single cross on display at Faith Temple.

For that matter, if you had walked into the room not knowing that Fidel is a Christian pastor, there is almost nothing in what he said that would have made you think he is anything but Jewish.

“The only agenda I have is to love Israel,” he said. “I love Judaism.”

In 1983, Fidel said, “when I made a personal commitment to God, I went to a travel agent and got a bunch of brochures about Israel.” As was noted, that was the start not only of Fidel going to Israel as the leader of many different tour groups, it also led to him bringing other Christian pastors to Israel so that they, too, would be encouraged to bring their parishioners to Israel.

Fidel referred in particular to the example of Reverend Raymond Maclean, a Native pastor who has been to Israel an incredible 32 times.

Continuing in the vein of his admiration of the Jewish people, Fidel went on to say that his “favourite character in the Bible is Jacob. I see him in Larry Vickar, in Earl Barish, and in Alan Yusim (who was a former director of B’nai Brith Midwest Region in Winnipeg).”

It was Alan Yusim who asked Fidel to participate in B’nai Brith’s annual Holocaust week event, “Unto Every Person There is a Name,” when various individuals are invited to read out loud the names of individuals who perished in the Holocaust at a ceremony held at the Manitoba Legislature.

Fidel said he was deeply touched by that invitation, which came in 2003. He observed that the night before the ceremony, when he was practicing reading the names of those Holocaust victims so that he would not stumble over their pronunciation, he had what he described as an “epiphany.”

Developing close relationships with Jewish organizations and leaders of those organizations, such as Alan Yuism, has been key to what Rudy Fidel has strived to accomplish, he explained. He spoke particularly fondly of the friendship he and his wife, Gina, have maintained over the years with Larry and Tove Vickar, noting that friendship originated way back when a young Tove Vickar, recently arrived here from Israel, was studying English for the first time and Gina was her teacher.

Fidel observed that Larry Vickar has been generous in his support for a multitude of causes, going so far as helping “to build homes in the Philippines. He puts his heart into everything he does,” Fidel said.

So, if the Six Day War was a pivotal event for Dr. Ingrid Bergner who, in turn, imbued Rudy Fidel with an ongoing devotion to Israel, it was his later encounters with Holocaust survivors that led to another facet of his love for Jews.

In 2005, Fidel said, he was part of a March of the Living tour to Poland and Israel. When he was at Auschwitz he met a survivor by the name of Felix Opatowski, who had been an inmate in Auschwitz. Opatowski was actually a part of the group that planned on blowing up one of the crematoria at Auschwitz (until the SS learned of the plot) and, even though he was severely tortured (with all his fingernails pulled out, along with the loss of an eye and hearing in one ear), he managed to survive.

According to Fidel, Opatowski said that  the “ground at Auschwitz is as holy as Eretz Yisrael ,” which didn’t go over well with Israeli authorities. But meeting Opatowski was another life-changing moment for Fidel, he explained, and one that led him on a path devoted to helping Holocaust survivors. He noted that there are still 150,000 Holocaust survivors alive in the world today and, working with an organization known as “Emunah,” which is devoted to helping survivors, Fidel has raised over $20,000 for the cause.

Not only has Fidel played a significant role in helping Holocaust survivors, he’s also long been active in helping Jews in Ukraine and in Cuba. (He noted that he’s been to Cuba eight different times, where he’s helped to forge ties with the Cuban Jewish community.)

But, after he concluded his talk, Fidel was challenged  by audience members with some questions that elicited some evasive answers which might lead one to wonder just what motivates Rudy Fidel’s deep love for Jews.

One question that seemed to catch him off guard was: “Where does Jesus Christ come in?”

Fidel begged off answering, saying, “I’d rather not talk about that. Maybe it was my passion 40 years ago, but it isn’t any more.”

Another audience member, alluding to an observation Fidel had made earlier that over 150 different individuals whose last name was Fidel are recorded at Yad Vashem as having died in the Holocaust, asked whether Fidel had ever taken “a DNA test” to try and determine whether he actually had Jewish ancestry himself.

Fidel answered that he hadn’t, but it was certainly an interesting idea.

Finally, someone else asked him “Are all your congregants pro Israel?”

Fidel answered, “Most of them.”

Quite the interesting fellow – that Rudy Fidel. It’s not the first time we’ve written about him in an article for this paper, but like many other Christians who harbour a deep love for Israel and Jews in general, we certainly appreciate all that he’s done over the years to strengthen ties between Christians and Jews.

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Features

I Speak “Jew”

Morrocan Jewish fish dish

By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”

That’s all.


Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967

He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project

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Features

At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence

By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact.  A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many  contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store.  He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls.  “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.)  “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says.  We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s.  After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William.  The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales.  “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says.  “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods.  “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods.  The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete.  I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage.  Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed.  She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly. 
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene.  For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century.  Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.  

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Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco

“The Chronos of Andalucia” author Merom Toledano

By MYRON LOVE “The Chronos of Andalucia”, a novel just released by first-time author Merom Toledano, is a historical romance set in late 15th century Spain and Morocco, filled with passion, action, intrigue, unexpected twists and turns – and, of course, with the requirement of any medieval story – a quest.
The easy-to-read, 190 page book follows the adventures of Catalina, a young woman living by her wits on the streets of Granada in the year 1487, (just after the Christian armies of Ferdinand and Isabella had recaptured all of Spain from the Moors) – while trying to evade the agents of the Inquisition, who had murdered her Jewish mother and Christian father 10 years earlier.  She was left with an insatiable desire to learn about astronomy, along with a mysterious map and an astrolabe (an instrument formerly used to make astronomical measurements) – the importance of which will only be unveiled if she can get to the city of Tangier in Morocco.
Early on, there is a reference to Abraham Zacuto, a prominent Spanish rabbi famed for his knowledge of astronomy and astrology.
The action begins when she has a casual interaction with a former Spanish soldier, Diego.  When the forces of the Inquisition approach, she flees with the soldier – who is also her love interest – and who helps her to escape.  They turn for help to a childhood friend of Catalina’s – Roberta, a nun, who helps them on their perilous  journey to Tangier – a journey that includes being captured by pirates, surviving a shipwreck, being separated for a long period of time and, of course, finding each other again and realizing the success of their joint quest.
In his writing, the author paints vivid word pictures of the different characters and beautifully invokes the colour, sights, sounds and scents of the time and the places. 
What I found truly remarkable about the writing of “The Chronos of Andalucia” is that English is not Merom  Toledano’s first language.  The Israeli-born author – he grew up near Haifa – came to Winnipeg with his young family just eight years ago.
“I have had this book in mind for several years now,” says the satellite engineer whose working career takes him to many different parts of the world. 
He notes that he has always felt a connection to Spain, Spanish music and literature – a reflection of his family’s modern origins in that country.  His great-grandparents, he relates, lived in Toledo – hence the family name, Toledano.  His parents lived in Meknes in Morocco while his father attended university in Tangier before making aliyah.
Toledano just published “The Chronos of Andalucia” in April on Amazon. He reports that the book – which is available here at McNally Robinson – has been selling well –close to 100 copies – with orders coming from a bookstore chain in England, a bookstore in Denmark, and one in Italy.
“I have had between 30 and 40 positive reviews so far,” he reports.
Toledano adds that he envisages “The Chronos of Andalucia” to be the first in a series – a la the writer Danielle Steele.  He is already working on a sequel – which is hinted at the end of “The Chronos” and, he reports, he is establishing his own independent publishing operation.        

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