Catholic Commentary
The Strength and Injustice of the Enemies
19But my enemies are vigorous and many.20They who render evil for good are also adversaries to me,
The Psalmist discovers that enemies thrive precisely when the righteous are brought low—and they repay goodness with treachery, a Satanic inversion of the moral order.
In verses 19–20, the Psalmist — bowed under the weight of sin, illness, and divine chastisement throughout Psalm 38 — turns his gaze outward to the threatening reality of his enemies. These foes are not merely numerous but vigorous and thriving, a bitter contrast to the Psalmist's own exhaustion and abasement. Worse still, they compound their enmity with moral inversion: they repay his goodness with evil, attacking the very one who has done them no wrong. Together these verses capture the double burden of the righteous sufferer: interior desolation deepened by exterior injustice.
Verse 19 — "But my enemies are vigorous and many."
The Hebrew underlying "vigorous" (חַיִּים, ḥayyîm, "alive, living, full of life") is strikingly emphatic. Unlike the Psalmist himself, who has described his own body as feeble (v. 8), his wounds festering (v. 5), his loins filled with burning (v. 7), and his strength failed (v. 10), his enemies are described as ḥayyîm — pulsing with vitality, flourishing. The contrast is not incidental. The Psalmist's moral and physical prostration stands in stark relief to the worldly power of those arrayed against him. The word "many" (רַבּוּ, rabbû) reinforces not merely quantity but overwhelming force — a multitude whose vigor renders escape or self-defense humanly impossible.
This verse functions as a hinge: throughout Psalm 38, the Psalmist has confessed his own sins as the root of his suffering (vv. 3–4, 18) and has acknowledged God's just hand upon him. Now, the complaint pivots to the enemies who exploit that weakness. The spiritual logic is crucial: even when suffering arises from our own fault, the enemy of the soul does not remain passive. He presses the advantage. The Psalmist's honesty about this double front — guilt within, hostility without — reflects an integrated moral realism that the Church has always recognized as the hallmark of authentic contrition.
Verse 20 — "They who render evil for good are also adversaries to me."
This verse sharpens the ethical indictment. The phrase "render evil for good" (mְשַׁלְּמֵי רָעָה תַּחַת טוֹבָה, meshallemê ra'ah taḥat ṭovah) employs the language of debt and recompense — the same vocabulary used for just repayment, here grotesquely inverted. These enemies are not merely neutral antagonists; they have received good from the Psalmist and have weaponized that good as an occasion for attack. This is the ancient category of treachery: the betrayal of beneficence.
The phrase "are adversaries to me" (יִשְׂטְנוּנִי, yisṭenûnî) uses the verbal root שָׂטַן (śāṭan), the same root from which "Satan" derives — one who accuses, opposes, and obstructs. The enemies who repay good with evil are, at the typological level, participating in a Satanic logic: the inversion of the moral order, the corruption of love into hatred, of gratitude into betrayal.
Typological and Spiritual Senses
The Church Fathers, and indeed the entire tradition of Christological Psalm reading, hear in these verses the voice of Christ. Augustine (Enarrationes in Psalmos, Ps. 38) identifies the Psalmist's voice with the totus Christus — Christ speaking in and through his members. The "vigorous enemies" prefigure the Sanhedrin, the Roman authority, and the mob at Golgotha — all flourishing in worldly power at the very moment of Christ's apparent defeat. The rendering of "evil for good" finds its most devastating historical instantiation in the Passion: Christ who healed, fed, raised the dead, and preached mercy was handed over to crucifixion. Judas, who received Christ's friendship and the Eucharistic bread, is the concentrated emblem of this verse.
Catholic theology uniquely illuminates these verses through the lens of the totus Christus — the "whole Christ," head and members — a hermeneutical key developed by St. Augustine and endorsed by the Catechism (CCC 795). When the Psalmist cries out against enemies who repay good with evil, the Church hears this as simultaneously the cry of the historical David, the prophetic voice of Christ, and the ongoing prayer of the persecuted Church in every age. The Catechism (CCC 2584–2585) affirms that the Psalms are the prayer of Christ himself, and that the Church prays them in and through Christ.
The verbal root śāṭan in verse 20 opens a significant theological horizon. Catholic demonology, developed from Scripture and synthesized by the Catechism (CCC 391–395), identifies Satan as fundamentally the "adversary" and "accuser" — the one who opposes God's order. The enemies in this verse are instruments, whether knowingly or not, of that adversarial logic when they invert the moral order of gift and gratitude.
St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae II-II, q. 108) treats the injustice of repaying evil for good as a specific moral wrong graver than mere unprovoked injury, since it corrupts the social bond of beneficence upon which human community depends. For Aquinas, the one who does this sins against both justice and charity simultaneously.
Pope Benedict XVI, in Verbum Domini (§ 19), urges the Church not to expunge the "difficult" psalms but to read their darkness as authentic speech about human suffering — speech that finds its ultimate resolution in the Cross. These verses are precisely such "difficult" material: the righteous sufferer surrounded by thriving, treacherous enemies. Their place in the Liturgy of the Hours ensures the Church does not flinch from this dimension of human experience.
Contemporary Catholics may find these verses disquieting precisely because they are so recognizable. The experience of doing genuine good — in a family, a workplace, a parish — and having it repaid with suspicion, mockery, or outright attack is not exceptional; it is a recurring feature of faithful Christian life in a disordered world. These verses give that experience a name and, crucially, a place in prayer.
The Psalmist's response is not self-pity or retaliation: he takes his case to God. This is a concrete spiritual practice — rather than ruminating on the injustice, or plotting a response, or falling into bitterness, the Catholic disciple is invited to do what the Psalmist does: name the reality honestly before God, acknowledge one's own weakness, and entrust the imbalance of power to divine justice.
Practically, Psalm 38:19–20 can be prayed deliberately in moments of workplace injustice, family estrangement, or ecclesial conflict. It trains the soul to distinguish between legitimate grief over mistreatment and the sin of vindictiveness. The prayer does not demand that the enemies be punished — it demands that God see. That is a profound act of faith.
In the moral or tropological sense, the verse maps the interior life of every believer under spiritual attack. The Devil, says St. Peter, "walks about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour" (1 Pet. 5:8) — vigorous and tireless. The particular anguish of having goodness turned against oneself is also a common experience of Christian discipleship: charitable acts misread, fidelity caricatured, mercy exploited.