“When your enemy falls,
be not glad, and when he stumbles, let your heart not rejoice – lest Hashem see
and it be evil in His eyes, and He turn His anger from him [to you].” (Mishlei
24:17-18)
This verse presents several difficulties.
First of all, why shouldn’t I be glad when my enemy falls? After all, the second verse says that Hashem is angry with him, implying that this “enemy” is an actual rasha (evildoer). Isn’t it appropriate to rejoice at the downfall of a rasha? Secondly, the verse implies that as a consequence of my rejoicing, the same anger that Hashem had toward this rasha will be transferred unto me - what kind of justice is that?
I think that in order to understand this verse, we need to understand the rasha’s philosophy of justice.
Every human being has a sense or philosophy of justice. Even young children feel that certain things actions are “right” and others are “wrong.” Of course, not everyone has the correct sense of justice. The only way to develop a correct sense of justice is through learning and practice of justice.
What is the rasha’s sense, or philosophy, of justice? We are taught in Pirkei Avos (5:14): Someone who says, “What is mine is mine, and what is yours is mine” is a rasha. In his eyes, it is okay to steal from others, but someone who steals from him is behaving unjustly. To put it another way: deep down, the rasha says, “I am the measure of justice - actions which benefit or please me are just, and actions which harm or displease me are unjust.” It is this skewed, narcissistic philosophy of justice which allows the rasha to perpetrate the greatest evil.
A person can hate a rasha for two reasons. A tzadik (righteous person) or chacham (wise person) will hate the rasha because he understands the nature of evil and recognizes that this individual is an embodiment of that evil. Let us call this philosophical or objective hatred. However, the average person’s hatred of the rasha stems from personal considerations: because the rasha has harmed him, or reminds him of his own imperfections, or because he himself is envious of the rasha’s lifestyle and resents him for it, etc. Let us call this personal or subjective hatred.
Philosophical hatred is certainly appropriate for a rasha, and philosophical rejoicing is the correct response to his downfall. Our verse, however, is talking about personal hatred and joy. This is indicated the use of the term “your enemy” (as opposed to, “The city exults in the good of the righteous, and when the reshaim perish there is glad song” (11:10), which speaks of philosophical rejoicing).
What is wrong with feeling personal hatred toward a rasha?
Imagine a bully. Every day, this bully torments me. One day, I see him trip, twist his ankle, and embarrass himself in public. When he stumbles in this manner, there is a part of me that rejoices, saying, “Ha! Serves him right for tormenting me!” In other words, I feel that because he harmed me, he deserves to be harmed. King Solomon comes to teach us: that feeling of satisfaction stems from the exact same philosophy as the rasha. The rasha’s feeling that “I am the measure of justice” is the same feeling which I experience when I rejoice over his downfall. At the moment I feel this sense of vengeful joy at the downfall of my enemy, I am no different than the rasha. As such, I will be subject to the same Divine wrath.