Trigger Warning: Theology, Trust, and My Zombie Gun

Why I Traded a Beautiful Sig for a Glock—and What It Taught Me About Faith, Evidence, and Epistemic Integrity

“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen—not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen—not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

— C.S. Lewis

Ever since I first saw Han Solo draw his blaster with confident swagger, I’ve been hooked. Not just on Star Wars, but on the idea that a good man with a trusty sidearm can stand between chaos and the people he loves. As a kid, I didn’t grow up around guns—my parents didn’t own any—but the symbolism of that blaster stuck with me. It represented freedom, protection, and the will to fight evil.

That childhood impression eventually blossomed into a hobby I still love today: 3-Gun competition and firearm collecting. Over the years, I’ve built a modest—but carefully curated—collection of pistols, each with a specific role. I carry a Glock 43x as my every day carry (EDC). For competition, I run a Glock 34 MOS upgraded with some Taran Tactical enhancements. When serving on security detail at my church, I often carry my Shadow Systems War Poet. And then there was my so-called “zombie apocalypse gun”: a gorgeous Sig Sauer M18x.

And let me tell you—this Sig was a work of art. Perfect balance. Smooth, crisp trigger. An optic so clear it made target acquisition feel like cheating. It was a gift from one of my board members -- hands down the nicest present I’ve ever received from someone outside my family. I loved this pistol so much I invested in a premium Safariland holster and added a TLR-7 tactical light. This was the gun I imagined myself using to patrol the neighborhood if society ever crumbled and zombies started roaming the streets.

It was almost perfect.

Almost.

When Eyewitnesses Start Piling Up

Then I started hearing whispers online—YouTube videos, Facebook posts, and forum threads all pointing to the same concern: Sig Sauer P320 variants (which includes the M18x), were allegedly firing on their own inside holsters. These incidents were chalked up to "negligent discharges" (NDs), but the sheer number of reports started to raise eyebrows.

I resisted the concern at first. Emotionally, I was attached to this gun. It wasn’t just reliable (in my own limited experience); it was awesome. It felt like betrayal to even consider replacing it—especially since it was a meaningful gift from an awesome godly man and a dear friend.

And sure, there were videos floating around… but none of them were conclusive. Maybe the shooter had his finger on the trigger. Maybe the holster was junk. Maybe the reports were exaggerated. That was always my excuse: I just needed one more witness. One more video. One more piece of evidence.

Then one day, while chatting with Mike Licona on the phone, we talked about the historical evidence for the resurrection of Jesus and how skeptics often behave the same way. No matter how many eyewitness accounts are recorded or corroborated historically, some people still say, “It’s not enough. I need just one more.” And we rightly call that irrational or unreasonable.

It hit me: I was doing the exact same thing with my zombie gun.

Transfer of Trust and the Theological Trigger

As I’ve argued elsewhere in my work on the Free-Thinking Argument and the Deity of Deception objection, epistemic justification matters. If the source of your beliefs is unreliable—say, if it comes from either the mindless laws and events of nature or a cosmic manipulator who determines your beliefs irrespective of truth—you have a defeater for your theological convictions. You’re left with skepticism and reason to doubt.

But if that’s true for theology, it’s true for everything else too.

My trust in the Sig was undercut. Although my M18x had never misfired, the accumulating reports from others—credible eyewitnesses, multiple corroborating accounts, even legal action—began to erode my confidence. I no longer had good reason to believe my gun was safe. And a pistol you can't trust is a pistol you shouldn’t carry. The stakes were too high to play epistemological games.

One morning, Licona texted me yet another video of an alleged Sig discharge (click here). I turned to my wife and said, “That’s it. I’m going to Cabela’s today to trade in the Sig. I can’t keep this by the bedside in good conscience anymore.”

The Glock Gospel: Reliable, If Unflashy

At Cabela’s, I traded in my beloved Sig for a Glock 19x with a Holosun red dot. It didn’t have the same sleek lines, the same buttery trigger, or the sentimental backstory. But I knew one thing: it was reliable and trustworthy.

Glocks don’t fire unless the trigger is pulled. Their internal safety design makes accidental discharges virtually impossible. You can drop them, jostle them, run with them—and they will not go off unless the trigger is activated. I’ve trusted Glocks for years, and once I let go of my emotional bias, I knew I had to return to what was philosophically and practically justified.

From Tactics to Theology

This whole episode reminded me of something important: theology isn’t just an abstract intellectual exercise. Neither is philosophy. These disciplines shape how we live, what we trust, and how we respond to real-world dilemmas. Sometimes that means evaluating arguments for the resurrection of Jesus. Other times, it means evaluating the reliability of the gun you keep on your nightstand.

In both cases, the principle is the same: go where the evidence leads. Don’t let emotional attachment override rational justification. And always be willing to trade the flashy but uncertain for the steady and true.

Because when it comes to both resurrection and red dots—truth matters more than style.

Bottom line: every time I train with my Glock 19x—every shot at the range, every drill I run—I’ll remember the thoughtful gift from Dr. Dan Eichenberger and how that beautiful Sig eventually taught me something deeper: that real love gives generously, and real trust is forged in the fire of tested evidence.

Stay reasonable (Isaiah 1:18),

Dr. Tim Stratton