Commentary - Psalm 59:16-17

Bird's-eye view

In these concluding verses of Psalm 59, David pivots sharply from imprecation against his enemies to exultation in his God. The psalm, set in the context of Saul's treachery, is filled with the snarling of enemies, described as dogs prowling the city. But the final stanza is not a whisper of hope; it is a full-throated declaration of victory, sung in the morning after a long night of distress. The central theme is the stark contrast between the psalmist's previous peril and his present security. This security is not found in his own strength or cleverness, but entirely in the character of God. God is his strength, his stronghold, his refuge, and the source of all lovingkindness. The response to this multifaceted deliverance is, therefore, multifaceted worship. He will sing, sing joyfully, and sing praises. This is not just relief; it is robust, declarative, and public worship, offered to the God who is not merely a generic deity, but is confessed personally as my stronghold and the God who shows me lovingkindness.

This passage serves as a paradigm for Christian worship in the midst of a hostile world. The believer's song is not dependent on the absence of trouble, but on the presence of God in the trouble. The song is sung "in the morning," signifying a new day, a fresh deliverance, a resurrection reality that follows the night of trial. The attributes of God celebrated here, His strength (oz) and His lovingkindness (hesed), are the twin pillars of our salvation. God has both the power to save and the covenantal commitment to do so. The psalm thus concludes by putting the final word not with the howling dogs, but with the singing saint, whose confidence is anchored in the unwavering, personal, and powerful faithfulness of God.

Outline

Context In Psalms

Psalm 59 is one of the Davidic psalms with a specific historical superscription: "when Saul sent men, and they watched the house in order to kill him." This places it in the intense period of persecution David faced before ascending the throne. The psalm is a mixture of lament, imprecation, and trust. David describes his enemies vividly as dogs, howling and prowling for blood (vv. 6, 14). He calls on God to arise and punish their wickedness, to "consume them in wrath" (v. 13). Yet, throughout the psalm, his confidence in God as his "stronghold" is a recurring refrain (vv. 9, 17). The final two verses, our text, serve as the triumphant conclusion to this struggle. Having laid his complaint before God and having expressed his trust, the logical and spiritual conclusion is worship. This movement from peril to praise is a common pattern in the Psalms, modeling for God's people how to navigate suffering. It demonstrates that the proper end of a trial is not merely survival, but a song.

Key Issues

The Hinge from Peril to Praise

A man's theology is never more apparent than when he is in deep trouble. When the dogs are at the door, as they were for David, what comes out? For the unbeliever, what comes out is despair, or rage, or frantic self-reliance. But for the man of God, what ought to come out is prayer that pivots to praise. This psalm is a masterful example of that hinge. The bulk of the psalm is a raw and honest description of the danger. David is not stoic; he sees the bared teeth and hears the growling. He asks God to deal with it, and not gently. But the final word does not belong to the dogs. The final word belongs to God, and therefore the final response from David is a song about God.

Notice the transition. He has just prayed for God to consume his enemies so that the world will know that God rules in Jacob (v. 13). Then he describes them again, prowling and howling (vv. 14-15). And then, with a glorious "But as for me," he changes the subject entirely. The circumstances have not yet changed, the men are likely still outside the house, but David's focus has. He lifts his eyes from the dogs at the door to the God on the throne. This is the essential move of faith. Faith does not deny the existence of the dogs, but it does deny their ultimacy. And because God is ultimate, our ultimate response must be worship.

Verse by Verse Commentary

16 But as for me, I shall sing of Your strength; And I shall joyfully sing of Your lovingkindness in the morning, For You have been my stronghold And a refuge in the day of my distress.

The verse opens with a strong adversative: But as for me. This sets up a sharp contrast. Let the dogs howl all night (v. 14-15), let them hunt for meat and growl. But I will be doing something else entirely. My activity will be determined not by their threats but by God's character. His first resolution is to sing of Your strength. The word for strength here is oz, which signifies might, power, and majesty. David is surrounded by deadly force, but he chooses to sing about a greater force, an ultimate power. He is not whistling in the dark; he is declaring allegiance to the true King.

The second clause parallels the first but adds color and texture. He will joyfully sing of Your lovingkindness in the morning. The song is not a dirge; it is joyful. And the subject is God's hesed, His lovingkindness. This is that great covenant word that combines love, loyalty, and steadfast commitment. God's strength is not arbitrary or capricious; it is always directed by His covenant love for His people. He is mighty for us. The singing will happen in the morning. This points to a new day, the passing of the night's danger. It is a picture of resurrection hope. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Ps 30:5). The morning is when deliverance is seen and celebrated.

The second half of the verse gives the reason, the doctrinal foundation, for the song. It begins with "For," because worship is always a rational response to who God is and what He has done. For You have been my stronghold And a refuge in the day of my distress. A stronghold is a high, fortified place, inaccessible to the enemy. A refuge is a place one runs to for safety. God has not been an abstract concept; He has been a practical, experienced reality. In the specific, historical "day of my distress," God was his fortress. This is testimony. The song is not based on wishful thinking, but on past faithfulness. Because God has been a stronghold, David can confidently sing in the present.

17 O my strength, I will sing praises to You; For God is my stronghold, the God who shows me lovingkindness.

This final verse distills the worship down to its most personal and potent form. David now addresses God directly with a stunning title: O my strength. God is not just the source of his strength; God is his strength. This is the language of deep, personal union. My ability to stand, my power to endure, is not in me; it is You. Having addressed God this way, he declares his intention once more: I will sing praises to You. The Hebrew word for "sing praises" here, zamar, often refers to making music with instruments. This is not just a mental assent; it is a full-bodied, artistic, and skillful expression of praise.

And why? The final line provides the bedrock reason, repeating and refining the previous verse's logic. For God is my stronghold, the God who shows me lovingkindness. He restates the truth: God is his high tower, his place of absolute security. But then he adds a final, glorious descriptor. He is "the God who shows me lovingkindness," or more literally, "the God of my hesed." This is profoundly personal. He is not just the God of covenant love in general; He is the God of my covenant love. The steadfast, loyal, unending faithfulness of Almighty God is directed at me. This is the gospel. This is the ground of all true worship. The psalm that began with enemies at the door ends with the soul safely enclosed in the character of its covenant-keeping God. The dogs are still outside, but they have been rendered irrelevant.

Application

We live in a world full of howling dogs. They prowl around our institutions, our families, and our own hearts. The temptation is to spend all our time watching the dogs, charting their movements, and despairing over their numbers. This psalm teaches us a different way. We must, like David, acknowledge the reality of the threat and bring it to God in honest prayer. But we must not end there. We must make the faithful pivot: "But as for me."

Our worship on the Lord's Day is this great weekly declaration. The world howls for six days, telling us that we are doomed, that our faith is foolish, that chaos reigns. Then we gather on Sunday morning, the morning of resurrection, and we sing. We sing of God's strength, His sovereign power over all the dogs of this age. And we sing joyfully of His hesed, His covenant faithfulness that has been sealed for us in the blood of His Son. Our singing is not an escape from reality; it is an invasion of reality. We are declaring what is ultimately real in a world that is chasing phantoms.

And it must be personal. It is not enough to say that God is a stronghold. You must be able to say He is my stronghold. It is not enough to say that God is a God of lovingkindness. You must, through faith in Jesus Christ, be able to say He is the God of my lovingkindness, the one who shows mercy to me. When you are in your day of distress, and those days will come, your only hope is to find your refuge in Him. And when He delivers you, as He has promised He will, your only fitting response is to come out in the morning, not just with a sigh of relief, but with a song of praise on your lips.