The following excerpt is taken from What Every Christian Should Know About Satan. Order your copy in print, Kindle, or Audible versions here.

---

In the previous post, we introduced God’s plan for engaging the evil one: the full armor of God. Now, let’s turn our attention to the individual pieces of armor. The order in which they are described generally is the order in which soldiers put them on. 

Truth like a belt

While many modern translations refer to “truth like a belt” (CSB) or “the belt of truth” (ESV, NIV), the KJV renders it, “having your loins girt about with truth.” Similarly, the NASB 1995 says, “having girded your loins with truth.” The latter understanding may be more to the point. 

Ancient warriors and athletes, like other people of the time, wore loose-fitting clothing, which needed to be gathered and secured before any physical activity could ensue. This was done in different ways and for different purposes (see 2 Kings 4:29; Luke 12:35-36; John 13:4-5). The metaphor of girding is used in Scripture because it describes the need to prepare oneself for the spiritual work ahead.

It’s interesting to note that the Passover was eaten with the loins girded and shoes on the feet, indicating a readiness to move at the Lord’s command (Exod. 12:11). Isaiah writes that “faithfulness” (truth in the Septuagint) is the belt around Messiah’s waist (Isa. 11:5). 

A warrior may secure his clothing in a number of ways. For example, he may wear a foundational piece beneath his armor, then strap on an exterior belt or sash, or simply gather the loose folds of his robes. Whatever method the soldier employs, the belt is not, strictly speaking, part of the armor. But girding is essential for the soldier to both wear his armor and have full mobility in battle. 

There are two ways in which truth is part of God’s armor. First, it is the truth of God’s Word as opposed to the lies of Satan, who is the father of lies (John 8:44). Jesus says, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). The great truths of the Bible – the love of the triune God, the redemptive work of Christ, salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ, and others – set us free from Satan’s lies. 

Jesus is truth incarnate (John 14:6), and truth is the enemy of the evil one. While Satan often tells outright lies – “No! You will certainly not die” (Gen. 3:4) – he more often twists the truth so we feel at ease with falsehood and thus are caught off-guard. Deception is high on the list of sins God considers an abomination. A “lying tongue” is “detestable to him” (Prov. 6:16-17).

Second, girding our loins means making a personal commitment to the truth – living lives of uprightness, sincerity, integrity, and a good conscience (2 Cor. 1:12; 1 Tim. 1:5, 18-19; 3:9). Putting on the belt of truth in this regard ensures that all the rest of our armor stays in place. 

Without truth, there is no trustworthy revelation of God, no real Jesus, no gospel message, no future resurrection, no day of reckoning, no hell, no new heavens and earth, no hope for a sinful and dying world. If we do not gird our loins with the belt of truth, our armor tilts, our shield becomes heavy, and our sword dangles out of reach. 

Righteousness like armor on your chest

Many English translations refer to this as “the breastplate of righteousness” (e.g., ESV, KJV, NIV, NASB). For Roman soldiers in the first century, standard armor featured the lorica segmentata, or segmented armor. It consisted of strips of iron joined together with hooks or straps. It covered the chest and shoulders, affording good protection from spears, arrows, and swords. No doubt, the lorica segmentata was designed to protect a soldier’s core, basically from the neck to the navel, where the ribs end. An arrow to the heart or a dagger to the liver could bring swift and certain death. 

The righteousness with which we are clothed is not our own. None of us is righteous in ourselves; indeed, we are rotten to the core (Rom. 3:10). Rather, it is Christ’s perfect righteousness that guards our hearts. His sinlessness is imputed to us, resulting in justification. And there’s more. The Holy Spirit – who has made us spiritually alive, taken up residence in our human spirits, and set us apart as adopted children of the Father – seals us by placing God’s crest on our armor, signifying that our place in his kingdom is secure as we engage in battle under his command. 

Satan seeks to convince us that our own righteousness is sufficient. He whispers that we may need Jesus for the big issues, but there’s no reason to sweat the small stuff. The evil one’s compelling appeal to our pride, fleshly desires, past victories, or current status in ministry is meant to convince us that Christ’s righteousness is supreme but not supremely necessary. However, the Bible says, “Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life” (Prov. 4:23).

That may be a reason some commentators, like John Calvin, believe the breastplate is not necessarily the righteousness of Christ imputed to us (Rom. 3:21-22), but the believer’s loyalty in action to the Lord’s commands. Perhaps the apostle Paul has both perspectives in view here. He uses the same Greek word for “armor on your chest” (thoraka) in Ephesians 6:14 as he does for “armor of faith and love” in 1 Thessalonians 5:8: “But since we belong to the day, let us be self-controlled and put on the armor of faith and love, and a helmet of the hope of salvation.” Whether it is Christ’s righteousness imputed to us, or our faithful response to Christ’s commands – or both – the armor is intended to guard our hearts. 

Feet sandaled with readiness for the gospel of peace

Paul likely has caligae in mind. These are tough but light open-toe sandals that extend partly up the leg, with nail-studded soles for traction. Rather than don heavy boots used in long marches, soldiers could wear caligaein hand-to-hand combat to ensure solid footing and ease of movement. Defenders were known to litter the ground with sharp objects designed to puncture feet, so a soldier’s sandals offered further protection as he advanced toward enemy lines. Healthy feet were essential to the soldier’s dual role of warrior and ambassador as he advanced the Pax Romana, or Roman peace.

This warrior-ambassador role describes Christian soldiers as well. While engaging the evil one in spiritual combat, we carry the gospel banner of peace for a lost world to see. Our feet must be swift and sure as we deliver the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ (2 Cor. 4:4). Declaring a message of hope for God’s people, the prophet Isaiah writes: “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the herald, who proclaims peace, who brings news of good things, who proclaims salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’” (Isa. 52:7). The apostle Paul quotes this passage, tying it to the glorious task of those who proclaim the gospel (Rom. 10:14-15). 

The Lord provides our sure-footedness, as biblical writers attest. In a message brimming with imagery of armor and battles, King David declares, “God is my strong refuge; he makes my way perfect. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer and sets me securely on the heights” (2 Sam. 22:33-34). And the prophet Habakkuk writes of his confidence in God: “The LORD my Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like those of a deer and enables me to walk on mountain heights!” (Hab. 3:19).

Meanwhile, Satan sets snares for our feet and places obstacles between us and those who desperately need the gospel message. He sows tares in Jesus’ wheat fields; these are false professors of the Christian faith who threaten the purity of the church and the clarity of its message (Matt. 13:24-30, 36-43). He blinds the minds of unbelievers to the truth of the gospel (2 Cor. 4:4). He makes the gospel sound foolish (1 Cor. 2:14). He fashions “another gospel” that people embrace too easily (leading to false assurance) or pursue too vigorously (leading to a desperate and never-ending quest for works-based rest). 

Further, the evil one cranks out false doctrines like universalism and annihilationism so heaven is cheapened and hell is less frightening. He adds rituals, ceremonies, and sacraments to the gospel so it appeals to our self-righteousness. He foments legalism so that people despair of ever finding true Sabbath rest in Jesus. He substitutes sincerity for genuine faith, offering many false paths to God. He takes unbelievers captive and manipulates them (2 Tim. 2:26). He befriends unbelievers, thus making them enemies of God (Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:21; Jas. 4:4). And he does much more.

Since the Lord has entrusted his followers with the gospel, we are to be ready at all times to give a reason for the hope that is in us (1 Pet. 3:15). We do this by walking in the footsteps of Jesus, as the apostle John writes, “The one who says he remains in him should walk just as he walked” (1 John 2:6).

The shield of faith 

The shield is a movable piece of armor the soldier wields to deflect spears, arrows, and other projectiles. In the first century, Roman soldiers used three types of shields. The most famous, known as the scutum, was large (four feet by two and a half feet) and either rectangular or oval, designed to protect a soldier from chest to knees. The scutum also was concave, allowing the shield to provide greater protection of a soldier’s flanks. Next was the parma, a round shield typically thirty-six inches across and used while fighting on horseback. Third, the clipeus was round or oval shaped, which legions used in concert with the scutum. The clipeus replaced the scutum as the standard shield of the Roman soldier by the third century.

Paul employs the Greek word thyreos for “shield.” It derives from thyra, the Greek word for door, and envisions the Roman scutum. Marching side by side, holding up these large door-like shields – sometimes over their heads – Roman soldiers could move effectively against a well-armed enemy. This is an apt description of how followers of Jesus advance the gospel, working in unison to deliver Christ’s offer of peace in hostile territory. 

Paul says the shield of faith enables us to extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one. Flaming arrows are a double threat. They penetrate armor with their sharp tips, and their flames burn the skin or set ablaze any flammable protective gear. The shield, therefore, is the first line of personal defense, as is the believer’s faith. Our trust in God – our complete confidence in him and his promises – enables us to withstand a barrage of Satan’s fiery darts. 

The evil one’s flaming arrows are fired from many directions and at many angles. Essentially, they are his attempts to undercut our confidence in the Lord and thus stop our advance. For example, Satan may introduce doubts into a believer’s thoughts: Am I really secure in my salvation? Can I fully trust God, even when I can’t hear his voice? If God is with me, why am I failing? If God is good, why does evil seem to be winning? Who am I to think God should care for me among seven billion other people living on this spinning rock in a remote corner of the universe? Does my faith really make any difference?

If we begin to doubt God, we may stumble beneath the weight of the very shield given to protect us. Doubt is but one of Satan’s fiery darts. Others include fear, anxiety, persecution, pride, envy, greed, impurity, judgmentalism, and self-reliance. These temptations are designed to get our attention off God and onto ourselves, or even to focus on our own abilities and thus relinquish our trust in the Lord. They fly in unexpectantly, piercing, and hot. 

Just as flaming arrows produce puncture wounds and fast-spreading fires, so doubts, fears, anxieties, and other temptations may stop us in our tracks. A wounded soldier may become inwardly focused, attending to an urgent need to stop the bleeding or smother the fire. In a similar way, when Satan’s fiery darts get past our shield of faith, they may lead us to be more consumed with the cares of this world than with the kingdom of God.

But we should take heart. As King David writes, “My shield is God Most High, who saves the upright in heart” (Ps. 7:10, NIV). Put another way, the shield isn’t ours to fashion; it’s God’s to give. And in one sense, God himself is the shield. Further, he grants us saving faith that becomes an implement of spiritual protection. In ancient times, a shield often was covered with leather and presoaked in water to extinguish arrows dipped in tar and set on fire. Our shield of faith – the Lord himself and the measure of faith he gives us – ensures that while Satan’s fiery darts may injure, they cannot kill.

Faith is not something we conjure up. It is God’s gift to us. And he gives each of us a measure, or degree, of faith (Rom. 12:3). So it’s not a matter of how much ability we have to trust in God; it’s fully investing the faith God has given us in him. As we place every aspect of our lives in God’s hands, we find our measure of faith growing until it becomes a scutum, protecting us from chest to knees. 

As Marvin Vincent writes in Word Studies in the New Testament, “Faith, in doing away with dependence on self, takes away fuel for the dart. It creates sensitiveness to holy influences by which the power of temptation is neutralized. It enlists the direct aid of God.”

Next: Armor for Spiritual Battle (Part 2)