Question

Hello Rabbi, I wanted to share a few thoughts I’ve been pondering lately, and I’d be glad if the Rabbi could offer his opinion.
It is well known that people sometimes have difficulties with faith בעקבות the troubles and suffering they go through. I always tended to look down on this a bit, to my shame. For example, after the expulsion from Gush Katif there was talk about the crisis of faith that evacuees experienced—how could this happen, if there is a God, how could He allow such a thing, and so on. I remember thinking to myself: the fact that the Holocaust happened didn’t cause them such thoughts, but the expulsion—even though it was a very difficult event—did?
The years passed, and in recent years I myself went through a very difficult period. And sure enough, in the hardest moments, when I felt there was almost no hope, God forbid—even I suddenly had those faith-related questions: How can this be? How can the Holy One, blessed be He, allow this? I’m not such a wicked person that I deserve this kind of suffering. Maybe, God forbid, there is no one hearing at all?
And then I found myself thinking: why did this happen to me only now? Why is it that when we have a major personal tragedy, we arrive at these questions, when we always knew there was terrible evil and suffering in the world, no less—and maybe much more—than our own personal troubles?
A first explanation that might come to mind: we care less about others. Therefore only when it happens to us do we cry out. But on second thought, that explanation—aside from the fact that I find it less appealing—doesn’t really answer the question. What difference does it make whether we care more or less? We should have looked at this event (incomprehensible suffering happening to someone) and the doubts about faith should have arisen, regardless of how much we cared about the bearer of the suffering.
(The next explanation is perhaps a more precise and accurate formulation of that initial thought.)
A second explanation: psychological—and I think this is the most obvious explanation that would occur to most people. When it happens to someone else, I hear or see what happened and think it’s terrible, but I don’t really internalize just how much. I understand that he is suffering—but I do not internalize the measure of the agony, that unimaginable suffering. Only when it happens to me do I feel it in its full force—and therefore only then do the questions arise.
The weakness in this explanation is that philosophically it doesn’t justify the matter. Why didn’t the Holocaust cause me real questioning, while my personal suffering did? Really, I should have questioned things already after the Holocaust—or not questioned them at all. It is only a human psychological explanation for why this happens.
A third explanation: (a) I know only myself completely, and I know that overall I am a good person (or at least that’s what I think). (b) I personally experienced only my own suffering and the pain that accompanied it. So I know that it was very great. Therefore only in my own case do I know that there was seemingly an injustice—a good person experienced suffering he did not deserve. (As an aside, this wording is just for the sake of clarity. In practice I believe that everything the Holy One, blessed be He, does is justified, and I do not understand the calculations of Heaven.) In other cases—perhaps, although it sounds terrible, that person’s suffering as he experienced it personally was not actually that awful? Or perhaps although he appears to be a good person, in secret he did grave things and therefore deserved it?
The very great weakness in this explanation is that maybe in some cases it is true—but statistically it is obvious that out of the countless terrible tragedies we’ve heard about, there were also many truly righteous people, and the suffering was as terrible as it sounds. So it does not seem that this explanation can really answer the question. (The next explanation is, I think, a kind of philosophical refinement of the current one.)
A fourth and final explanation: philosophically, it is much easier to cast doubt on another person’s experience—to exaggerate, maybe I’m living in the Matrix and all the other people are robots? Maybe it’s The Truman Show? My personal experience is the only thing I cannot—or can hardly—doubt.
The advantage here, in my view, is that there is some kind of philosophical justification for the matter, and not just an explanation of why it happens. On the other hand, I know the Rabbi doesn’t like skepticism.
Of course, this isn’t exactly a question; I’d just be glad if the Rabbi could give his comments or insights on the topic / the above analysis, if he has any. Thank you very much.