The one about a letter to a friend

    A while back, after years of study and, at the time, prayer, I had no choice but to conclude that there never was a person Jesus of Nazareth.  The facts were so blatant that to this day I'm embarrassed that I ever did once accept the concept of an historical Jesus.  Consequently, in my writings and letters, this sometimes comes across either consciously or unconsciously as a matter of fact, which I think it is, but I don't always intend to make it a focal point.

    However, not everyone does accept the non-existence of Jesus as a matter of fact, and one friend decided to challenge me on the issue.  He and I attended christian college years ago, but as I began to move away from faith, he moved even deeper into it.  It wasn't unexpected, therefore, when he demanded that I defend my claim that Jesus never existed, but I avoided responding to that for a long time because I knew it would be a futile effort.  My friend had no intention of looking objectively at my findings; he wanted merely to hear statements that he could attempt to refute.
    People of faith find it exceedingly difficult to let their faith live apart from dogmatism.  Their faith is almost always so intimately bound to scripture or systematic theology that it cannot survive without it.  My friend is one such man of faith, a faith linked completely to scripture and his sect's system of theology based on that scripture and nothing else.
    Having spent years reading history and historical method, my desire to slog through a written debate via snail mail didn't appeal to me, especially when I knew the other person didn't have the resources to do his own argument justice and was not predisposed to listen objectively to my side of the argument.  I needed to respond, though, if for no other reason than to demonstrate respect and affection for my friend.
    The letter ended up being short, devoid of many details in order to limit my friend's ability to launch some refutation.  It's not that I fear argument but rather I know how it feels to face the truth, the facts of reality in full force that place one's faith in question.  Though I want my friend to give up his faith and come to accept reality, it's important that each person do this in his own time, in his own way.
    When a person feels compelled by reason to abandon one of the most important aspects of his life, it can cause suffering that may lead to greater problems than being a believer causes.  However, if my letter can warm him up to the subject and set him on his own adventure to reach the truth, that is enough.
    As a Buddhist, I find it painful to deliberately cause suffering.  That is karma:  the nature of every result is the nature of its cause.  If I had written a letter ridiculing my friend's faith and offering chapter after chapter of research which only the most stubborn fool would dispute, the result would be of the same nature, and the relationship with my friend would be damaged.
    Since I am not a believer, it is ultimately irrelevant to me whether my friend keeps or loses his faith.  However, my friend is important to me, and to cause undue suffering is repugnant.  Being right at the cost of love is a hollow victory.  That's the most important thing to remember when dealing with family and friends who are believers.  When stating your ideas to loved ones, say them in a spirit consistent with that love.