I believe the answer is that they have simply stopped believing in Hashem. They may not necessarily have become atheists, but they have lost their emunah. They believe Hashem exists, but cannot embrace a Creator who, in their view, is cruel, vindictive and does not act like a merciful Father.
I was recently at the funeral of a young woman in her 30’s who was an incredible human being. Based on how she treated everyone – not just her parents – she should have been granted arichat yamim, a long life. Her childhood friends described a vibrant, high spirited woman who used her endless energy and robustness to involve herself in the kind of chesed projects that promote family and community achdus. Looking at the casket, a friend commented, “This isn’t fair!”
I have no doubt that her protest of unfairness resonated among everyone who heard her words.
How many adults grapple with tragedies and extremely difficult and stressful situations and scream that “He/she/we don’t deserve this! We/they are righteous, erliche people, why did this happen to us/them?”
To be honest, this Purim, as we commemorated a Holocaust averted centuries ago, I found myself wondering why we are partying and revelling when so many are still suffering from the horrors of the Shoah that wasn’t averted – where millions of Jewish men, women, children and babies died horrific, torturous deaths because there was no hidden miracle granted.
(The children and grandchildren of survivors are still impacted by the unspeakable horrors that our parents and grandparents endured. Post-traumatic Stress Syndrome and the mental illness and dysfunctional interpersonal relationships that are the result of their intense suffering have negatively impacted the bitachon and faith of many in our community.)
There seems to be a mindset in the community that we should embrace every tragedy or misery that we experience – that it is our nisayon, our test, and Hashem gave it to us for our own good. What is even more tragic and what compounds the intense suffering of those who must deal with extreme illness or disability (theirs or a loved one’s) or abuse, or poverty, is that they are made to feel inadequate if they are upset with what Hashem deems is the right situation for them. They feel guilty for being overwhelmed and not being b’simcha because they were gifted with a severely handicapped child, for example. They feel ashamed because of what they perceive as a lack of true faith and belief.
Some, like the Hagaddah’s rasha, seeing the misery endured by so many, get disillusioned and “throw in the religious towel.” Perhaps kids off the derech see so much heart-breaking tragedy happening to good people that ever increasing droplets of doubt eventually erode the wall of their emunah.
But are they a rashas? Even Amram, the grandson of Levi, who was zoche to be the ancestor of the Kohanin, Leviim, David HaMelech and Moshiach, lost his emunah and bitachon due to the intense suffering of Am Yisrael in Mitzrayim – a nightmarish existence that lasted over 200 years.
He did not embrace nor accept the wretched, agonizing reality Bnei Yisrael was mired in by proclaiming, “This is our G-d –given nisayon and it’s for our own benefit.” He told the men to divorce their wives and prevent a new generation from suffering.
It was his daughter Miriam who was able to give him the answer that “turned him around” and cancel his edict to divorce. (As an aside, Miriam’s reasoning that his decree prevented baby girls from being born did not dissuade Amram, perhaps he knew that the fate of Jewish girls as the property of Egyptian men was worse than non-existence – as it no doubt was for Jewesses throughout our persecution. Thus, it was her assertion that these children would be denied Olam Habah that changed his mind.)