As the setting sun cast a warm golden light through the high, arched windows of Shaarey Zedek Synagogue last Friday, Cantor Leslie Emery stepped forward to perform a deeply sacred ritual. Reaching toward the front of the sanctuary, she opened a pair of sliding brass doors to reveal six meticulously crafted scrolls, each wrapped in ornate coverings embroidered with intricate Hebrew letters.
Five of these venerable scrolls contain the complete Torah—the first five books of the Hebrew Bible—handwritten meticulously with a quill and ink on traditional parchment. Several of these sacred texts are more than a century old, carrying the weight of generations of history, faith, and resilience. For the congregants of Shaarey Zedek, these are not merely historical artifacts; they are living testaments to their heritage, read aloud from the bimah several times a week.
"When we read the stories of the Bible, when we read the stories of the prophets, when we observe Jewish holidays, we’re actually recounting the history of our ancestors," Cantor Emery reflected, capturing the profound continuity that defines the synagogue’s spiritual life.
Every Friday evening, a rabbi and a cantor traditionally lead the congregation in a contemplative and joyful prayer service designed to welcome the arrival of the Sabbath. This particular Friday, however, marked a departure from the routine. The evening service was the centerpiece of a unique interfaith exchange that brought together two distinct spiritual communities under one roof. Half of the people gathered in the spacious sanctuary were members of the Jewish congregation, while the other half were Christians from Charleswood United Church. In total, 25 parishioners from Charleswood United had traveled to join their Jewish neighbors for worship, a communal meal, and fellowship. The exchange is set to continue next month, when 25 members of Shaarey Zedek Synagogue will visit Charleswood United Church to experience a service in a Christian house of worship.
The initiative comes at a time of complex geopolitical and social tensions, but the leaders of both congregations emphasized that the gathering was rooted in local connection rather than political debate.
"We’re not walking into each other’s buildings trying to persuade one another to join our religion. That’s not what it’s about," said Rabbi Carnie Rose, addressing the assembled crowd. "We want to be in fellowship, sharing what makes us tick, what makes us feel, what makes us special and unique."
Reverend Michael Wilson of Charleswood United Church echoed this sentiment, acknowledging the broader cultural and social climate that inspired the outreach. "We’re recognizing that there’s been some tensions and difficulties for the Jewish community in Winnipeg, and we want to be part of the resolution to that, to be neighbours and friends," he said.
For some observers, the sight of a United Church congregation joining a synagogue for Friday evening prayers might come as a surprise. The relationship between the United Church of Canada and various Jewish organizations has experienced notable strain in recent years. In December 2023, the United Church of Canada publicly characterized Israel’s military campaign in Gaza—launched in retaliation for the devastating October 7 Hamas attacks—as a genocide, while also issuing calls for a ceasefire. That position drew sharp criticism and disappointment from the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs. Additionally, the United Church has previously angered several Jewish groups by supporting targeted boycotts of goods produced in Israeli settlements situated in the West Bank.
Reverend Wilson noted that while he was well aware of these broader denominational tensions, they were deliberately kept outside the scope of the evening’s gathering. "I don’t think our congregation is totally on board with some of the positions the United Church has taken, and in the United Church you’re allowed to do that," he explained. Instead, the primary focus remained steadfastly local: the timeless mandate of being good neighbors within the shared geography of Winnipeg.
As the service prepared to commence, Cantor Emery directed attention to a well-known inscription carved in Hebrew along the front of the wooden lectern. Translating the phrase for the visitors, she noted the words: "love your neighbour as you love yourself"—a moral imperative deeply familiar to anyone raised within the Christian tradition.
"I feel like I’m welcoming some neighbours into our sacred space today," she said warmly.
The evening quickly evolved into an organic cultural and theological dialogue. During an informal moment before the prayers began, a curious member of Charleswood United asked why the Hebrew language is read from right to left. Rabbi Rose offered a lighthearted reply, gesturing vertically as he recalled his previous tenure as a rabbi in Japan. "You think that’s difficult? I was a rabbi in Japan," he smiled. "That’s a whole other story."
As Cantor Emery tuned her acoustic guitar, Rabbi Rose took a moment to explain the unique and vital role of the cantor within the synagogue. "The cantor is the minister of music, the heart and soul of what happens up here," he told the congregation. "Much of what we do is singing, because we know that music moves the spirit and allows us to feel the presence of the divine in our lives."
To help the Christian visitors feel included and engaged, transliterations of the Hebrew text were projected onto a large screen positioned next to the original script, allowing everyone to follow along phonetically. Cantor Emery encouraged the guests to lend their voices to the evening’s liturgy without hesitation.
Reassuring the room, Rabbi Rose added with a grin, "Nobody in the history of Jewish tradition has ever been thrown out of synagogue for singing too loud or off key. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord. That’s what it’s all about."
The prayer service officially opened with the Kaddish, the traditional mourner’s prayer recited in memory of those who have recently passed away. The congregation then transitioned into welcoming the Sabbath with song, moving through a series of traditional Psalms. Among the musical selections was a melody written by Leonard Cohen, Judaism’s most celebrated bard, whose poetic and spiritual lyrics offered a bridge of familiarity for members of both faiths.
Following the formal conclusion of the prayer service, the two congregations transitioned to a social hall to share a meal of roast chicken and seasonal vegetables. Over dinner, the barriers between the two groups dissolved into lively conversation. Attendees compared the similarities and differences of their respective religious traditions, discussed the distinct administrative and spiritual challenges facing their institutions, and swapped personal stories.
Conversations spanned a wide variety of topics. Visitors asked how a Jewish bar or bat mitzvah ceremony differs from Christian confirmation classes. They inquired about the symbolic meaning of the cup of wine used in Jewish ritual, learning that it signifies joy rather than representing blood, as sacramental wine does in Christian communion services.
Naturally, local culture and weekend logistics also found their way into the chatter. At one point, guests asked what was happening during the Winnipeg Blue Bombers football game scheduled for that evening—a game that observant Jewish attendees would be unable to watch because the Sabbath had officially begun at sundown.
"Unless someone else turns on the TV and you just happen to walk through the room," Rabbi Rose joked, explaining the practical nuances of Sabbath observance.
As the evening progressed, deeper institutional concerns were also discussed. Nancy Jeffries, a lifelong member of Charleswood United Church, shared her congregation’s ongoing anxieties regarding dwindling attendance figures and a scarcity of young families participating in church life. "How do we make it relevant for parents and their children?" she asked aloud.
Paulie Rose, who is married to the rabbi, noted that these existential questions are hardly unique to Christianity. "It’s not just the Christian community asking those questions," she observed.
Karen Riddell shared a piece of her own church’s history, recounting the journey of how Charleswood United ultimately voted to become an affirming congregation explicitly welcoming of 2SLGBTQ+ individuals. The decision, she noted with pride, was unanimous. "Every person voted yes," she said, "even people in their 80s and 90s."
Later in the evening, Reverend Wilson asked Rabbi Rose to elaborate on how Jewish and Christian traditions approach the interpretation of sacred scripture differently. Rabbi Rose explained that in Jewish scholarly and liturgical practice, sacred texts are rarely read in isolation; they are almost invariably studied alongside centuries of rabbinic commentary and debate.
"We believe the Messiah is still on his way, and you believe he’s on his way back," the rabbi said with a smile, highlighting the core theological divergence between the two faiths. Then, his tone turning more reflective, he added, "It’s nice to talk about the things that are different. Not because they divide us, but because they’re interesting."