Because God does not believe in force-feeding.
I think this also applies for human fanaticism (sitting on a high horse and claiming to speak for God while aggressively damning everyone else up and down), if we go by the story of Job.
As everyone knows, the whole gist of the book of Job is that: Job is a righteous man who lived in comfort. God allows the Accuser (
haśśāṭān, Satan) to take away all of Job’s wealth, family, and even his health. Three friends of Job, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, come to console him. They attempt to defend God’s moral universe by arguing that Job must have sinned to incite God’s punishment. The narrative itself somewhat encourages this interpretation, since the boils that Job gets (Job 2:3-7) are precisely, word for word, what Deuteronomy describes as punishment for disobedience to God’s commandments (Deuteronomy 28:15, 35). In other words, contrary to the image in Deuteronomy, which offers a vision of a perfectly moral universe governed by God, where keeping the commandments will bring down blessings and disobedience brings down punishment and puts you out of sync with the moral universe, Job’s exceptional righteousness does not earn him a blessing but a curse - all this with God’s assent.
The funny thing is, when God finally appears in the story, it soon turns out that the one who has argued with Him has spoken rightly, while the ones who have defended Him have not. Job’s friends are trying to answer for God against Job’s accusations, but they are ultimately scolded because they did not “speak rightly” to or about God. In a way, God is saying, “Who do you think you are? Who asked you to answer for me?” God gives a long poetic reply to Job’s complaints, he ultimately does not give him the clear answers he wants. However, He does take Job’s side over against the three friends: “look who I have to defend me!”
There is a play called
The Trial of God by Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel. The play is set in a 17th century eastern European village named Shamgorod after a massacre of local Jews at the eve of the festival of Purim. The last remaining survivors of the disaster, Beresh the inkeeper and his daughter Hanna, are holed up in Beresh’s tavern: when three travelling Purim minstrels arrive at the inn, Beresh decides to stage a play in which they put God on trial for what has happened to their community and others throughout history, with Beresh as persecutor. The only problem is, no one in the room is willing to represent God. Just then, an “intelligent, cynical, extremely courteous, diabolical” stranger named Sam shows up and agrees to take on the role of God’s defense attorney.
Many have commented upon the thematic similarities between this play and the book of Job. Beresh is very much the Job character: like Job, he places God on trial in connection with the classic theodicean question - how can God allow the innocent to suffer? - and refuses to justify Him in the face of this undeserved suffering. Sam, on the other hand, sounds very much like Job’s three friends: he defends God’s moral universe by questioning the need to blame God for the killings, and in fact suggests that those who were killed should thank God “for dying without prolonged suffering or shame.” Furthermore, Sam piously affirms that he must choose God over suffering, dying Jews because “I’m his servant. He created the world and me without asking for my opinion. He may do with both whatever He wishes. Our task is to glory Him, to praise Him, to love Him - in spite of ourselves.”
These two trials are eventually both cut short, but in radically different ways. In Job as mentioned, God finally shows up and condemns Job’s friends for their ignorance and lack of understanding while commending Job for his righteous words. In Wiesel’s play, the mock trial is postponed as the bloodthirsty villagers break through the tavern door and proceed to murder everyone at the inn, as Sam reveals who he truly is: Satan.
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