Catholic Commentary
Final Hymn of Praise to God's Strength and Mercy
16But I will sing of your strength. Yes, I will sing aloud of your loving kindness in the morning. For you have been my high tower, a refuge in the day of my distress.17To you, my strength, I will sing praises. For God is my high tower, the God of my mercy.
Psalms 59:16–17 presents the Psalmist's vow to respond to enemies with song rather than despair, addressing God directly as his personal strength and refuge. This commitment reflects a spiritual conviction that divine protection transcends the night of trial and finds expression in joyful, elevated praise at dawn.
The Psalmist doesn't wait for enemies to disappear before singing—he chooses praise as an act of faith, declaring God his strength in the middle of the night.
Typological and Spiritual Senses
Patristically, this passage was read through a Christological lens: Christ Himself is the one who, having endured the night of Passion and the "howling" of His enemies, rises in the morning to sing to the Father. The "morning" of v. 16 resonates with the dawn of Resurrection. The Church, as the Body of Christ, inherits this song — the Liturgy of the Hours (the Divine Office) was structured by the early Church precisely so that the morning prayer (Lauds) would re-enact this movement from vigil-through-night to praise-at-dawn. To pray Lauds is to participate in the Psalmist's — and ultimately Christ's — morning hymn of strength.
Catholic tradition illuminates these verses at several depths. First, the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "the Psalms are the masterwork of prayer in the Old Testament" and that they are prayers "of the whole Church" (CCC 2596, 2597). Psalm 59's closing doxology is therefore not merely David's private resolve but the voice of the whole Mystical Body committed to praising God through every trial.
St. Augustine, in his Enarrationes in Psalmos, interprets these final verses as the voice of Christ in His humanity offering praise to the Father — a reading flowing from his broader principle that the Psalms are the vox Christi and the vox Ecclesiae simultaneously. Augustine writes that it is Christ who says "my strength" (fortitudo mea), since Christ in His human weakness received strength from the Father through the Resurrection, and it is this risen strength He shares with His members.
St. Thomas Aquinas, commenting on the Psalms, notes that the final praise of Psalm 59 exemplifies the virtue of religion (religio) in its highest expression: returning to God, through worship, the honor that belongs to Him as the source of all strength. This is not mere sentiment — it is an act of justice toward God.
Pope John Paul II, in his Theology of the Body general audiences (and more directly in Novo Millennio Ineunte), called the Liturgy of the Hours — built on exactly this pattern of Psalms — "the very prayer of Christ Himself" that the Church continues in time. The movement from lament to praise in these verses models the paschal structure that shapes all authentic Christian spirituality: suffering borne in faith gives way to doxology.
For contemporary Catholics, these two verses offer a concrete spiritual discipline, not merely a sentiment. They model what the Church calls the "sacrificial praise" of Hebrews 13:15 — praise offered not when circumstances are pleasant but precisely when they are not. Notice that the Psalmist makes his vow to sing before the enemies have fully dispersed; the praise is an act of faith, not a consequence of relief.
Practically, this means that a Catholic facing a prolonged trial — illness, relational conflict, professional failure, spiritual dryness — is invited to do exactly what David does: choose the morning song before the morning comes. The Church encodes this practice structurally in the Liturgy of the Hours: praying Lauds each morning is a deliberate act of aligning oneself with this Davidic — and ultimately Christic — resolve to name God as "my strength" regardless of circumstance.
For those who do not pray the full Divine Office, simply praying verse 17 as a morning offering — "To you, my strength, I will sing praises" — is a way of re-centering the entire day on God's power rather than one's own resources, anxieties, or the "howling" pressures of the surrounding world.
Commentary
Verse 16: "But I will sing of your strength."
The adversative conjunction "but" (Hebrew: wa-ʾanî) is theologically decisive. It draws a sharp contrast with the enemies described throughout Psalm 59 — men who "howl like dogs" (v. 6, 14) and prowl the city seeking prey. The Psalmist does not meet their menace with counter-violence or despair; he meets it with song. The Hebrew verb ʾāšîr (I will sing) is in the imperfect tense, carrying a sense of habitual, ongoing, or resolved future action — this is not a one-time outburst but a commitment to a way of life. The object of the song is ʿuzzekā — "your strength," God's own power, not a human resource. The verse continues with the phrase "in the morning" (labboqer), which in the fuller Hebrew text appears in v. 16 and connects to v. 17's mention of "my refuge in the day of distress." Morning in the Psalter carries the specific resonance of deliverance after the night of trial (cf. Ps 30:5: "weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes in the morning"). To sing of God's strength in the morning is to declare that the night of danger — the prowling of enemies, the sense of abandonment — has passed into the light of divine fidelity.
Verse 17: "To you, my strength, I will sing praises."
Here the Psalmist makes a grammatical move of profound intimacy: God is no longer described in the third person ("your strength") but addressed directly in the second person, and called ʿuzzî — "my strength." This possessive pronoun personalizes and internalizes what was first declared abstractly. The Lord is not merely strong in an impersonal cosmic sense; He is this man's strength, bonded to him. The parallel structure of verses 16 and 17 — a literary device called synonymous parallelism — amplifies rather than merely repeats: first the Psalmist sings of God's strength, then he sings to God as his strength, collapsing the distance between subject and object. The word ʾăzammēr (I will sing praises) is from the root zmr, associated in Hebrew with instrumental music and especially joyful, elevated praise, distinct from the more general word for singing. The title misgabbî (my refuge, my fortress) appears in v. 17 in some traditions and reinforces the cluster of military-protective metaphors running through the psalm. God is not merely a source of strength from afar — He is the very fortress into which the Psalmist has retreated and within whose walls the song now rings.