There are a lot of ways to design a breastplate—and throughout history, civilizations have experimented with all sorts of variations. Today, soldiers use bulletproof vests and flak jackets. In the 11th century B.C. Chinese warriors protected themselves with layers of rhinoceros skin. Since then, armies have relied on breastplates made of reinforced leather; various metals forged into rings, scales and plates; and even quilted linens.
One of the most popular breastplates during Paul’s day was something we know as lorica segmentata—a “segmented cuirass.” It used a system of layered iron bands to provide protection from piercing and slashing blows while still allowing for some degree of flexibility. There’s a good chance that Paul had the segmentata in mind while he was composing his passage about the armor of God.
But it doesn’t really matter. Even though the breastplate has seen countless iterations through the centuries, all those variations share the same central function:
Protect the torso.
If you’re a first-century soldier on a first-century battlefield full of double-edged blades, barbed arrows and well-honed javelins, it’s impossible to avoid all those hazards indefinitely. Eventually, something sharp is going to hit you.
What happens then?
Well, it depends on whether you’re wearing your armor. A proper breastplate can take what would normally be a killing blow and mitigate it to nothing more than a nasty bruise. In the middle of a fight for your life, that’s the most important feature you could possibly ask for.
But a breastplate is only as strong as the material it’s fashioned from. In our battle against “the cosmic powers over this present darkness” and “the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12, ESV), God does not equip us with a breastplate made of quilted fabrics or reinforced leathers or even tempered steel. Instead, He provides us with a piece of armor designed and crafted to be infinitely more useful against the forces of sin and wickedness:
The breastplate of righteousness.
Righteousness is not a complicated word. To be righteous is to be in the right—to be correct in morals, ethics and actions; to be clear of wrongdoing; to be justified. We are righteous when our actions and our thoughts are aligned with God, His Word and His law. We are unrighteousness when they are not.
Moses understood this when he urged the Israelites to remember that “the LORD commanded us to observe all these statutes, to fear the LORD our God, for our good always, that He might preserve us alive, as it is this day. Then it will be righteousness for us, if we are careful to observe all these commandments before the LORD our God, as He has commanded us” (Deuteronomy 6:24-25).
A psalmist expressed the same, though a little more poetically: “My lips shall utter praise, for You teach me Your statutes. My tongue shall speak of Your word, for all Your commandments are righteousness” (Psalm 119:171-172).
Righteousness and wickedness are often presented in the Bible as two ends of the same spectrum. “You have plowed wickedness,” Hosea told his countrymen, “you have reaped iniquity. You have eaten the fruit of lies, because you trusted in your own way, in the multitude of your mighty men” (Hosea 10:13).
They could have put all that behind them if they had chosen instead to “sow for yourselves righteousness; reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the LORD, till He comes and rains righteousness on you” (verse 12).
Paul asked, “What fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? And what communion has light with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:14). Righteousness and wickedness—lawlessness—are diametric opposites; they cannot exist in the same place any more than darkness can exist where light is shining. As a defense against the wickedness and lawlessness wielded by the forces of evil, we are to take up righteousness as a breastplate, protecting ourselves against the sins and temptations that could so easily destroy us as soldiers of God Most High.
And that’s exactly where the concept of righteousness starts to get a little fuzzy.
Any honest Christian will be the first to point out that our own righteousness can be . . . inconsistent at best. And on the battlefield, with life and death on the line, inconsistent is a million miles from acceptable.
But it’s true. We’re flawed. We mess up. We do stupid things. We compromise our righteousness and give in to temptations, leaving ourselves vulnerable and open to Satan’s most vicious attacks.
In his letter to the Romans, Paul spent a lot of time talking about righteousness and this issue of our own shortcomings. He understood that the law of God functions as a measuring stick—it shows us where we fall short, but it doesn’t give us a way to make up the difference. No amount of future obedience can undo past disobedience.
“Therefore by the deeds of the law no flesh will be justified in His sight, for by the law is the knowledge of sin . . . For there is no difference; for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:20, 22-23).
Thankfully, Paul highlighted not just the problem, but the solution along with it. The law can only show us where we are imperfect, but the sacrifice of Jesus Christ allows us to do something about that imperfection: “For what the law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, on account of sin: He condemned sin in the flesh, that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit” (Romans 8:3-4).
Jesus Christ obeyed the law perfectly, succeeding where each of us has failed, and became the perfect, flawless sacrifice for our own sins. When we accept that sacrifice, we have access to what Paul calls “the gift of righteousness” (Romans 5:17)—that is, Christ’s righteousness is reckoned, or imputed, to us (Romans 4:6) in place of our own. This is all wrapped up in the concept of grace: a gift that we do not—cannot—deserve, given to us not because we are good, but because God is good.
But with that gift comes a responsibility. A duty. “What then? Shall we sin because we are not under law but under grace?” (Romans 6:15). Does having access to the forgiveness, grace and righteousness of Jesus Christ give us license to ignore God’s law and live however we please?
“Certainly not! Do you not know that to whom you present yourselves slaves to obey, you are that one’s slaves whom you obey, whether of sin leading to death, or of obedience leading to righteousness?” (verses 15-16).
Christ’s sacrifice isn’t a free pass for us to live however we want. That sacrifice gives us the ability to escape the death penalty we earned under God’s law, enabling us to instead pursue righteousness: “And do not present your members as instruments of unrighteousness to sin, but present yourselves to God as being alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God. For sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under law but under grace” (verses 13-14).
Paul wasn’t throwing God’s law out the window. God’s law defines sin. Removing that law would mean sin no longer existed—and yet Paul warned us over and over again to stay away from sin. Grace removes the death penalty we earned by breaking God’s law, but the law still defines what righteousness is.
“Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy and just and good” (Romans 7:12).
To summarize:
Your own righteousness is an inadequate breastplate in this spiritual war. When sin is in the picture, “we are all like an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are like filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6). If that’s the only thing protecting you from the enemy, you will find yourself exposed and vulnerable again and again.
The righteousness of Christ, on the other hand, is consistent, dependable and impenetrable. “Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same, that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil” (Hebrews 2:14).
As a soldier of God, it is your duty to “pursue righteousness” (1 Timothy 6:11). You will do this, equipped with the breastplate of righteousness covering your natural weaknesses and vulnerabilities. As we take our stand against Satan’s forces, we can count on that righteousness to do exactly what a breastplate is designed to do—keep us safe from the killing blows of the enemy. After all, what power does Satan have against the righteousness of Jesus Christ, the perfect Lamb of God?
None at all.
