1. There is one God and one power.

This idea is at the root of all others. Without this idea, the world is hard and cold and random. With it, there is hope and meaning and purpose. There is loving and giving and caring. It is the source of their recognition that there are moral choices to be made and their clarity on how to make them. This is the most essential foundation I can give them. It’s an idea that needs constant reinforcement in today’s society and one that needs to be reflected in our choices and attitudes.

2. We each have the opportunity to have a personal relationship with God.

Every night, when my children were small, we said the Shema (Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one) with them. This was always followed by a long list of the people that love them, culminating in “And most of all, God loves you.” This deep, ingrained sense of being loved by the Creator of the world should help take them through life’s challenges.

I am always moved by the stories I have heard of the power of the Shema, the deathbed recognitions and recitals. But perhaps my favorite story of all is the one of Rabbi Silver after the Second World War. There were so many Jewish children hidden in convents without any papers to prove their origins. Rabbi Silver would walk up and down in from of these lost souls reciting the Shema. Whenever he saw a glimmer of recognition in a child’s eyes, he would mark them as Jewish and bring them home.

3. We all need something more important than our own lives to live for.

If we don’t have something bigger than ourselves, we will end up as very selfish, self-centered human beings. And very unhappy ones. Being involved in something transcendent lifts us out of our petty concerns. Our history is replete with tales of men, women and children who sacrificed their lives rather than giving up Torah, or circumcision, rather than converting or betraying their fellow Jews. Our ancestors knew that life was not about them and their individual concerns but about the Jewish People.

We pray not to be tested in these ways but the world still demands of us that we stand up for the Jewish people and the land of Israel and I want my children to be engaged in the fight – in whatever way is reflective of their individual strengths and talents. We were on a sabbatical year in Israel when Iraq invaded Kuwait. We stayed throughout the Gulf War, not because we were heroes (we didn’t pick up guns or work abandoned fields) but because I wanted my family to feel they were part of a people and that we don’t abandon our brothers and sisters when times are tough.

Related Article: 9 Lessons My Baby Taught Me about God

4. It’s better to give than to receive.

The old cliché may be trite but it’s true. I hope my children will recognize that. I believe that the moments of giving they experience will deepen and internalize this recognition. Even if they may sometimes be resentful, I know in the end they will appreciate that they have grown and benefited from every act of giving and sharing (even with their annoying younger siblings!). I want them to learn that a day spent giving to others, a day spent working for the community at large, leads to a greater sense of joy than a day spent at the spa (although once in a while, the spa is good too!).

When we send our kids off to school in the morning, we always tell them to “Have a good day. Remember the Almighty loves you (point 2). Learn Torah (Point 3). Do chesed – acts of kindness - (point 4) and be happy.” Being happy is connected to giving. That is how they will experience true joy. I hope to furnish them with enough appropriate opportunities to give that they will come to appreciate this idea on their own and search for more.

5. Be a mensch.

The Mishna states “If there isn’t derech eretz – basic human decency and consideration – there isn’t Torah.” I want my children to be polite (which in today’s society is no small accomplishment) but I don’t want it to be just the veneer of being civilized, something that is external only and slips off when I’m not watching or chastising! I want them to have a deeply internalized sense of respect and courtesy for others. I think that’s a crucial aspect of what it means to be a mensch. And I think being a mensch is no small goal or achievement.

The rabbi who officiated at our wedding, Rabbi Moshe Aharon Stern, of blessed memory, used to advise parents looking for prospective matches for their children, “Just look for a mensch.” He knew a mensch wasn’t so easy to find and he knew it was all that really counted.

Inculcating Values

Okay, nice thoughts, deep thoughts, but how do we inculcate these ideas in our children? We tell them stories, we learn with them, we point out instances of the Almighty’s hand in our lives. We introduce them to mentors and expose them to role models. We choose schools that embody these values and place them in communities with peers whose parents share these goals.

But the two most important actions we can take cannot be passed on to anyone else. Whatever we tell our children, I feel compelled to quote yet another cliché, “our actions speak louder than words.” Our behavior, our attitudes, our goals will have the strongest impact of all on our family. If these are the values we want to pass on, we have to do our best to embody them, to really mean it and make the (sometimes difficult) choices that reflect this.

And finally, we have to sincerely pray that our children realize these goals. Since God shares these goals, He will certainly help us succeed if we really try.

By changing religion, was I reneging on part of my identity? Or was I adding to it? How were my family and my friends going to see me? Were they going to see me as “the Jew”?

How was my father, a deeply religious and practicing Catholic, going to react? My head was reeling as I thought of my mother, my sister, my brothers.

Would my constituents from the riding of Charlesbourg, in Quebec City, accept being represented by a Jew? By converting to Judaism, was I putting my political career at risk?

These were just some of the thoughts enveloping Richard Marceau moments before he entered a mikveh in 2004. Last-minute considerations common to most Jews-by-choice. But it’s Marceau’s unique journey that is decidedly uncommon, as revealed in his recently published memoirs A Quebec Jew: From Bloc Québécois MP to Jewish Activist.

Born and raised in a devout Catholic family in the middle class suburbs of Quebec City – ground zero for the Quebec separatist movement – Marceau was drawn to political activism early. As the descendant of French pioneers who arrived in Quebec in 1635, Quebec nationalism was genetic for Marceau. He quickly rose through the ranks of the upstart Bloc Québécois party, which advocates national independence for the Canadian province of Quebec. In 1997, Marceau was elected to serve as a federal Member of Parliament and was appointed the Bloc’s spokesperson in English Canada – all at the remarkable age of 26. It was a post Marceau would hold for nearly ten years. And it would ultimately open the door to a spiritual journey he never anticipated.

Discovering Israel

In 2000, Marceau visited Israel for the first time with a group of Canadian parliamentarians hosted by the Canada-Israel Committee. “What struck me early on was the normalcy,” Marceau writes. “I was expecting to land in a war-torn country, with soldiers everywhere, and scores of stressed and fearful people. That was certainly the image presented by the media around the world. It was not at all like that. Despite security precautions, I found myself in a Western and modern state like many I had previously visited.”

A turning point was when Marceau’s group met with chief Palestinian negotiator, Saeb Erekat. Erekat told the group that Israel was preventing him from travelling throughout the territories (including to Gaza), effectively holding him hostage in Jericho. “I remember thinking that the Israelis had played us. That the dizzying sites we had seen and the fascinating meetings we had attended were intended to pull the wool over our eyes,” recalls Marceau. “But that was not the only surprise. The following day, with the caption LIVE FROM GAZA at the bottom of our screen, who did we see on CNN speaking about the latest developments? You guessed it: Saeb Erekat himself!”

“Two thoughts crossed my mind. First, the Palestinians had become masters in the art of political propaganda. Second, that the Palestinian message that Palestinians = victims and Israel = oppressor is an easy one for everyone to remember.”

Coming Home a Zionist, Becoming a Jew

Marceau returned to Canada a Zionist – and an enthusiastic one at that. Whether through his work with the Canada-Israel Parliamentary Friendship Group or in Holocaust commemoration, Marceau realized he had tapped into a sense of peoplehood familiar to a proud Quebecker. In so doing, and with the support of his wife Lori (who is Jewish by birth), he began to ask questions of his own spirituality – and discovered the answers in Judaism.

“After a number of years of religious indifference, spent somewhere between a curious agnosticism and militant atheism, I was ready to reconcile myself with God,” Marceau notes. “I needed spirituality. I needed a reason for being. And I had found these in Judaism.”

After countless hours of study and reflection, Marceau took the plunge twice – first through the Reform movement and later through an Orthodox beit din. Perhaps this is only natural for a man who avoids labels. “Instead of focusing on the adjective – Reconstructionist, Reform, Conservative, Orthodox – as important as those differences can be, I try to emphasize the noun – Jew,” he explains. “We need to remain one united people, even if we are divided in our opinions.”

Upon meeting him, one sees that Marceau’s sense of Ahavat Yisrael, love for his fellow Jew, is practically contagious. “The state of Israel is our most important project as Jews today,” he says. “It is the centre of gravity of the Jewish people.” As Senior Counsel at the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, the leading advocacy organization of Canada’s Jewish community, Marceau is on the front lines in the daily effort to build the Canada-Israel relationship and defend Israel from slander. Whether he’s appearing on national television to defend Israel, or meeting with Canadian parliamentarians (including colleagues from his days as an MP), Marceau is defending Jewish sovereignty using the same political skills he once used to promote Quebec sovereignty.

Quebec, Judaism, and Identity

That said, he remains a proud Quebecker, and has been able to bridge the divide and present the case for Israel in a province where many hold misconceptions of Israel and Jews. For Marceau, striving to be a better Jew and advocate for Israel’s rights only makes him a better Quebecker. “I belong to two peoples,” Marceau writes. “Jewish tradition is crystal clear: there is no contradiction between a strong bond to the Jewish people and an unwavering loyalty to the country in which a Jew lives.”

Not everyone agreed. In his book, Marceau describes his public “coming out” as a Jew, and how a 2005 article he wrote on anti-Semitism (and revealing his conversion) sparked a backlash from within his own party. A fellow Bloc candidate responded with a scathing column that denounced Marceau in personal terms – even implying he was unconcerned about racism before his conversion.

But Marceau’s passion will not be denied. “Every time I have gone to Israel, I have returned impressed by this tenacious and intelligent people,” he reflects. “And I decided to be a counterweight, with the modest means at my disposal, to the clearly slanted narrative that was presented to Quebeckers.”

Indeed, Canada’s Jewish community – the third largest in the Diaspora – has found a unique advocate in Richard Marceau, whose journey from Bloc Québécois parliamentarian to Jewish activist is nothing less than extraordinary.