my not-so-jewish parents

I've spent the past two months reading, researching, and exploring my own Jewishness. Some people in my life have been enthusiastic about this, while others couldn't care one way or the other. The most interesting reaction has come from my parents.

I put off telling my father about my quest until just over a week ago. We were on the phone, and I mentioned that I'd been visiting synagogues in Portland.

"Good," he responded, with a surprising amount of encouragement in his voice.

"So, Dad, how do you feel about that?"

I never got an answer to that question. He immediately turned the conversation toward the differences between Jewish denominations. He asked -- facetiously -- if I planned on shaving my head or moving to Israel. I do remember mentioning that there had been a course on Jewish mysticism that I'd wanted to take at Duke, but couldn't make it work with my schedule. Dad jumped on that immediately and said, "If you want mysticism, you should join the Catholic Church." And so on.

My argument of not wanting to get involved with so much guilt and fear was not convincing, though I carefully avoided the underlying sub-text of the conversation: Dad's and my continuing debate over the divinity and/or humanity of Jesus.

I don't think he's exactly crazy about his daughter being a Jew -- though he's known all along about this heritage from my mother's side -- but I imagine he's encouraged that I'm interested in something that's not, in his mind, purely Pagan.

My mother, on the other hand, had initially seemed excited about this new development. She appreciated the genealogical research I'd done into her her mother's family and expressed her own long-standing interest in Judaism. Then, over dinner last weekend, I mentioned a playful e-mail I'd sent to my friend, Michele, a travel agent who had recently been interviewed by national media about destination weddings. Michele had offered to plan my wedding and honeymoon, and find me a suitable groom to boot. So I sent her my requirements:

Not so easy to find a well-educated, smart, eco-conscious, spiritually literate, spiritually questing, active, healthy, progressive, liberal, passionate, articulate, witty, compassionate, non-smoking, tall, good-looking Jewish man who is interested in archaeology, dogs, environmentalism, world cultures, and books, and who is not averse to heading off to live in a tent in the woods.

But it's not like I'm picky or anything. ;)

I paraphrased this for Mom. Her eyes widened and she shook her head and sucked in her breath when she heard the word, "Jewish."

"Why would you want to marry a Jewish man? After all those terrible jokes? You don't want that."

I had no idea what she was talking about.

With some prodding, Mom -- who only has daughters -- said that her concern had to do with "Jewish men and their mothers" -- unable to cut the apron strings, the mothers making their sons feels like gods, etc.

"Mom, that's every boy and his mother," I said. "Besides, that's why I'm looking for a man, not a boy."

I don't think she was buying it.

Based on these two conversations, I'm guessing that my parents hope this is just a phase that I'll grow out of. Given that I'm 37 and not so much prone to "phases" any more, I doubt it.