Stan Jantz

Penn Gillette Gets a Bible

Stan Jantz — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 10:54:36 -0800

My good friend Phil Cooke, media maven extraordinaire, alerted me to an amazing video clip made by Penn Gillette of Penn & Teller, the eccentric and talkative half of the popular magic duo. I encourage you to watch this self-revealing and very touching story told by Gillette about a stranger who gave him a Bible.

What's amazing about this is that Gillette, who is a self-described atheist, speaks with great admiration for the man who gave him the gift (a little New Testament with Psalms). Upon watching the clip, I was moved on many levels, first for the way Gillette describes the man--as one who has honest, caring, and complimentary. We Christians tend to get so defensive about our faith and so critical of the culture when talking with or about those who don't share our beliefs. What this video lesson teaches me is that when we talk with those who need the Lord, we should always be loving, caring, and compassionate. Without those qualities, our words won't mean a thing. With them, we may not even need words.

Technology, Change, and the Future of Content

Stan Jantz — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 08:07:19 -0800

Congratulations! You are about to witness something people haven't seen in 555 years. No, it's not a rare comet or corruption-free politics in Illinois. What you are going to see is a complete shift in the way written content is produced and distributed.

I know, that's not the most exciting news you've encountered this week, but hear me out. This is big. Really big. We are living on the cusp of history when it comes to creating, producing, distributing and consuming written content. It may not seem like a big deal now, but in another 555 years, when people look back and consider what happened in the first decade of the 21st century, they're going to be pretty impressed, much like we are impressed when we look back 555 years to the time Johannes Gutenberg rolled out the first printing press, a technological development widely considered to be the most significant event of the last thousand years. More significant than the Reformation, the Declaration of Independence, or Britney Spears' comeback.

Like i said, this is big.

Acually, the shift in content creation/production/distribution has been occurring for a few years now. The Internet started it, enabling an upstart called Amazon to rewrite the rules for how books are sold, and that was just the beginning. Most written content, especially the news, is now delivered digitally through various electronic devices powered by any number of programs. Even the way books are printed has dramatically changed. Technological advances have opened up Publishing on Demand (POD), a system that can produce a complete book from a digital file to final product in less than a day.

In a way, this shift has been subtle, with no "killer application" hitting the culture in a single moment like Gutenberg's press. But when you think about it and realize what we are witnessing, experiencing and utilizing, the implications for both content producers and consumers are absolutely and utterly staggering.

Certainly the shift is not lost on the traditional gatekeepers of written content, commonly known as the publishers. Just this month four of the world's largest book publishers announced unprecedented layoffs as book sales slump and the prospects for an upturm anytime soon appear dim. As if that news wasn't bleak enough, the giant Tribune Co.--owner of several big-city newspapers, including the Los Angeles Times--filed for bankruptcy this week. Certainly the economy has something to do with these dramatic developments in print publishing, but larger forces and factors are at work. The economy is just hastening the inevitable shift.

For those involved in traditional publishing, these are "dark days." At least that's the way Sara Nelson, editor-in-chief of Publishers Weekly, put it in a recent blog. "We may very well be witnessing the end of publishing as we have come to know it," she wrote. Is that a bad thing? I don't think so. There will always be publishers--to publish something simply means to make it public--because there will always be stories to tell and people to tell them. What kind of technology eventually emerges as the Gutenberg press of the 21st century (if it ever does) remains to be seen. In the meantime, the opportunity for content creators, producers and distributors is greater than it has been in, well, the last 555 years.

Don't Be Afraid

Stan Jantz — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 10:09:24 -0800

Everyone, it seems, is afraid of something these days. Some people are afraid of what will happen to our nation once president-elect Obama takes office. Others are afraid of all-out war in the Middle East. And everyone is afraid of the economy. We're supposed to be in a season of thanksgiving and hope, but right now you'd be hard pressed to find many people embracing these positive emotions. Instead, you're likely to find people who are afraid. Very afraid.

What a shame.

Fear has its merits, such as the "fight or flight" survival instinct built into animals and humans alike who, when faced with a fearful situation, either put up a fight or run for their lives. But the kind of nail-biting fear that is gripping people these days isn't producing the fight or flight response. Instead, the fear we are seeing around us is causing hand-wringing and paralysis. It's the kind of fear that inspires people to do nothing except maybe wait for the tough times to end.

Ironically, Christians have a tendency to get caught up in this mentality. Althought they have the most to live for, they get bogged down by the concerns of the culture and seriously doubt that anything can be done to change the way things are. As a result, they disengage, circle the wagons, and dream about a time when evil will be vanquished and they will live in a heavenly mansion forever.

As people of faith, we can do better than that. Taking nothing away from the eventual elimination of evil and a future in heaven, we can do something now. We can step away from our selfish lives, get over our fears, and actually do something productive for both the sake of God's Kingdom (you know, the one Jesus talked about in Matthew 6:33) as well as for the good of the culture.

Even in a world going bad--especially in a world going bad--we need to take the long view. Yes, Jesus may return tomorrow, but what if He doesn't come back for a while? What are we doing today that will make a difference next year or in the next century or in the next 500 years? Rather than sitting on our hands, overwhelmed by a spirit of fear because of the calamties around us, we need to be the best people of faith we possibly can. And we need to be the best scientists, econominsts, artist, filmmakers, social workers, philosophers, etc. that we can. As C.S. Lewis said in a sermon preached at Oxford in the fall of 1939 at the dawn of World War II,

"I think it important to try to see the present calamity in a true perspective. The war creates no absolutely new situation: it simply aggravates the permanent human situation so that we can no longer ignore it. Human life has always been lived on the edge of a precipice. Human culture has always had to exist in the shadow of something infinitely more important than itself. If men had postponed the search for knowledge and beauty until they were secure, the search would hever have begun. We are mistaken when we compare war with 'normal life.' Life has never been normal. Even those periods which we think most tranquil, like the nineteenth century, turn out, on close inspection, to be full of crises, alarms, difficulties and emergencies."

There's no question there are "crisis, alarms, difficulties and emergencies" all around us. But we must not give in to fear. If we do--and this is the Bible talking here--we will end up in a "snare," helpless and powerless. On the other hand, if we exercise some faith and trust in the God who freely gives help and power, we will be "safe" (Proverbs 29:25).

People often think the way to overcome fear is to muster up some courage. Not true. If Proverbs is correct, the antidote to fear is faith. David said as much when he wrote: "The Lord is my light and my salvation--whom shall I fear" (Psalm 27:1). And Jesus confirmed the whole fear/faith issue when He reached out His hand to catch Peter, who was full of fear as he sank in the stormy sea, and told him: "You of little faith. Why did you doubt?" (Matthew 14:31).

We don't have to be afraid. We have reason for thanksgiving and hope. The reason isn't found in our own effort to muster up courage, or in our ability to fix the crises, alarms, difficulties and emergencies in our culture. The reason is found in a reasonable faith placed in the living God.

Aliens, Foreigners and Exiles

Stan Jantz — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 19:02:47 -0800

Those of us who call ourselves Christians need to remember where our allegiance lies. As much we we like to think of our particular location in a particular country as home, it really isn't. Especially during this season when our own nationality and our responsibility as citizens are intensified, we need to view ourselves correctly--as foreign citizens, or "resident aliens."

To draw upon an analogy from the Old Testament--and I'm going to use several in this piece--we are rather like Abraham, who was called by God to leave his home and go to another country that God would give him as his inheritance. "He went without knowing where he was going," the writer of Hebrews recalled. "And even when he reached the land God had promised him, he lived there by faith--for he was like a foreigner, living in tents" (Hebrews 11:8-9).

This doesn't mean we can't be productive and influential in the culture in which we live, but we have to always remember that our true citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20). I like what Gregory Boyd writes:

"Whatever opinions we have about how to solve society's problems, we are to remember always that we cannot serve two masters (Luke 16:13). Our allegiance, therefore, can never be to any version of the kingdom-of-the-world. Our allegiance is to our heavenly Father, whose country we belong to and into whose family we've been adopted."

From time to time, our heavenly Father may call us to do something extraordinary in the culture, something that usually becomes clear after God has put us in a position of influence. I can think of three examples that illustrate this.

Daniel was an exile from Jerusalem living in Babylon in the sixth century B.C. Because God's favor was upon him, Daniel and his three friends--Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego--were elevated to prominent positions in an earthly kingdom. God's idea was not for them to overthrow the government. God used these brave and dedicated men to give this witness to the culture: They served the one true God. In order for this to happen, they had to undergo some serious testing. Daniel spent the night with some hungry lions, and his three friends were thrown into the fire for refusing to worship the Babylonian gods rather than the one true God. Not only did God preserve them, but he also set the stage for the eventual return of the Jewish exiles back to Jerusalem.

Esther was queen of Persia in the fifth century B.C. with access to the seat of power. She was a Jew, which meant her husband the king didn't share her belief. In fact, he ordered an edict that anyone who didn't worship him would be put to death. The Jews living in this foreign culture couldn't worship him, so they were in danger of being annihilated. In this dramatic story, God clearly put Esther into a position to help her people. Knowing this, Esther's cousin, Mordecai, told her, "Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for such a time as this?" (Esther 4:14).

Nehemiah also lived as an exile in Persia in the fifth century B.C. Like Esther, he held an important position in the Persian Empire. Because of his excellent work and unblemished integrity, Nehemiah gained the king's favor, so much so that the king allowed Nehemiah to return with his people to Jerusalem. Even more, the king financed the expedition and granted him safe passage throughout the journey.

These three are examples of citizens of heaven living in foreign lands whom God used "for just such a time as this." None of them condemned the culture. None of them sat in judgment against the culture. None of them used their relationship with God as an excuse to take over the culture. They simply displayed the principle so beautifully stated by the apostle Peter, who also lived in a hostile culture and wrote to Christians scattered by persecution: "Respect everyone, and love your Christian brothers and sisters. Fear God, and respect the king" (1 Peter 2:17).

At the same time, none of these God-fearing people bowed to the pressures of the culture. They weren't absorbed by the culture and didn't let the culture press them into its mold. They knew their true citizenship was in heaven, and their true King was God. And they obeyed and followed him even when their own lives were at stake.

How different could our witness be before a culture and a country whose inhabitants sometimes look at us with disdain? How much more of an influence could we have if we stopped trying to gain power, but instead made loving and serving God and others our primary concern?

Time to Teach Morality Again

Stan Jantz — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 11:53:28 -0700

Call me old fashioned, but I think it's time to start teaching morality again. You know, like they did in the old days, only without the use of certain devices designed to elicit compliance, such as the rack, chastity belts, and wooden spanking paddles like the one my junior high gym teacher, Mr. Creel, used to carry around like a trophy.

The reason I'm floating this idea isn't because of the really nasty immoral stuff we continually see all around us, stuff perpetrated by rapists, murderers, and Reality TV producers. Although these folks seem to grab an inordinate share of attention, both from the media and our criminal courts, they represent maybe three percent of the population, and with rare exception they are probably unredeemable.

No, I'm thinking of a much larger percentage of people, decent folks who really would like to make good moral choices, but for the lack of some quality instruction, they sometimes have trouble distinguishing right from wrong and think nothing of the negative consequences of their actions.

A case in point is Mr. Andrew Lahde, a former hedge fund manager from California who recently made headlines for abruptly closing his operations. What made headlines wasn't so much that he quit--lots of hedge fund managers have had to quit and look for honest work due to the economic meltdown--but the way he quit. On his way out the door, Mr. Lahde sent a now widely-circulated letter in which he scorned the "idiots" who run America's biggest financial companies, not to mention the "corrupt" government officials who are supposed to be keeping an eye on them.

Now there's nothing unusual about calling the heads of failed companies such as Bear Stearns, Lehman Brothers, and AIG idiots. We're all doing that now (it makes us somehow feel better). And calling government officials corrupt is nothing new. What makes Mr. Lahde's comments ironic and, I think, amoral, is that this former hedge fund manager personally made tens of millions of dollars betting on the subprime mortgage collapse. In other words, he knew the system was flawed and corrupt, so he took advantage of it for his own personal enrichment. "All of this behavior...only ended up making it easier for me to find people stupid enough to take the other side of my trades," Lahde writes. "God bless America."

Some commentators I've heard are calling Lahde a hero for telling it like it is. I don't think hero is the right word. In my opinion, Mr. Lahde's actions and subsequent analysis reveal a true lack of moral fiber. He may not have acted immorally, but clearly he doesn't care about right and wrong, which makes him rather amoral.

Which brings me back to my point about bringing back moral instruction--in the home, in church, and in the public square. Just think if little Andy Lahde at the age of six had been given sound reasons for why good moral choices in our personal lives are much more noble, productiive, and beneficial than bad moral choices. I suspect that Andy had a knack for making money as a kid. Maybe he was good at talking other kids into giving him their milk money in exchange for a promise of more milk money in the future. This is where someone who knew Andy and his unusual gift--a parent, a teacher, a pastor or priest--should have helped him to understand that just because he was good at finding people stupid enough to take the other side of his trades, it didn't mean that was the right thing to do. Maybe a little teaching on the Golden Rule would have helped.

I'm not calling for some kind of organized top down system of moral instruction. I'm thinking of something much more grass roots. What if each of us started with the kids we know, and just talked about the benefits of good moral behavior? We don't need to get preachy or indignant and warn them about the evils of pool halls and tattoo parlors. We just need to share some really good examples of people who made good moral choices, and why those choices are always better than the bad ones. And let's not forget to share examples of people who made bad choices and then in a moment of clarity, came to their senses, accepted responsibility, and asked forgiveness. Stories of redemption are powerful.

Come to think of it, I have all kinds of examples from my own life, and so do you. They say confession is good for the soul, so why don't we start a little mini-moral crusade by sharing our own stories of redemption with the little ones who look to us for guidance? You never know what effect this kind of instruction will have.

Perfect Storm...Perfect Peace

Stan Jantz — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 16:50:09 -0700

PART ONE: PERFECT STORM

In case you haven't noticed, it's kind of rough out there. Depending on what state you are in--and I mean that in an emotional sense as well as a geographic one--at this very moment you could be in a state of total shock, confusion and dismay over these three events that occurred in America within a span of just 48 hours:

the devastation left by Hurricane Ike in the Southwest;
the bankruptcy of Lehman Bros. in the Northeast, leading to an immediate layoff of 25,000 workers and the near-meltdown of the U.S. economy; or
the horrific train collision in Southern California that left 25 dead and hundreds injured.

And that's just the front-page news. Buried in the back sections of your local newspaper or favorite Internet news site are reports of smoldering international crises taking place this very moment in the Ukraine, Bolivia, Israel, Afghanistan, and, of course, Las Vegas, where O.J. Simpson is going on trial. And let's not forget about the continuing housing crisis and the still historically high price of gasoline.

It's like we're in the middle of a perfect storm, where negative economic, political, and natural forces are converging with alarming force and intensity, seeking to drown anyone in its path. Things are so bleak right now that even an optimistic person like me is wondering if things are ever going to get better. And even if the economy does turn around, and we get a break (for a while) from hurricanes and accidents, and there's some kind of temporary peace in the Middle East, who's to say that more bad stuff isn't on the way? All the uncertainty leaves you kind of helpless.

In fact, "learned helplessness" is a term experts are giving the psychological and emotional state many people are currently in. It comes when seemingly unrelated, unpredictable and inescapable events rain down without warning and seemingly without interruption. Just when you've survived one crisis, another one hits you in the face. You're like a boxer on the ropes trying to fend off the unrelenting punches of a more powerful opponent.

The bad thing about learned helplessness is that it can lead to prolonged hopelessness, and that's not a good thing. Every once in a while, we need to see light at the end of the tunnel. Otherwise we lose our bearings and eventually the hope that there will ever be a light.

PART TWO: PERFECT PEACE

Being in a tough spot is nothing new for the human race. History is littered with calamaties, some of which make our current troubles look rather tame by comparison. So the age-old question is not, "How do we avoid them?" but "How do we deal with them?" Aside fro addressing the physical and material needs (rebuilding homes, binding wounds, finding jobs, those sorts of things), how do we deal with the emotional and, dare I say, spiritual needs of people who are in a state of helplessness?

You might consider it a classic copout to refer to those passages of Scripture that offer God's comfort. One of the least effective techniques to offer someone in deep crisis is to start quoting Bible verses. But in times like these, I can't help but go to Scripture, and in particluar the life of Jesus, for some kind of reassurance. Where else am I going to go for answers? Obama? McCain? Dr. Phil? The Universe? (A friend of mine faced with a big decision actually said he is letting the Universe decide.) Call me idealistic, but somehow I don't think these sources are going to give me what I'm looking for.

Instead of trusting fallible human beings to bring hope to life's toughest problems, or resorting to a campfire chorus of "Que Sera, Sera," I don't think it's a bad idea to check with God's book. After all, if there is a God, and he's given us some solid advice in a very accessible way, maybe we should pay attention.

So I decided to check in with Jesus, picking a time in his life when things weren't going so well. It didn't take long to zero in on that moment on the eve of his arrest and triall and eventual crucifixion, when he was giving his followers some specific advice on how to handle the troubled times they were about to endure. Here's what Jesus told them:

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid" (John 14:27).

Empty words? An impractical promise? Not on your life. These are the words that connect the most helpless among us to the only one who promises help and gives us hope, if not in this lifetime, most certainly in the next.

Of all the belief systems out there--Buddhism, Hinduism, Atheism, take your pick--only the belief system rooted in Jesus is realistic about the fact that in this life, we will have trouble. But despite the very real troubles that the enonomy, the weather, and especially our fellow human beings throw at us, we don't need to be troubled in our hearts. We can have peace, not peace as the world gives, but the peace that Jesus gives.

The Way Heroes Are Made

Stan Jantz — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 14:20:38 -0700

Everybody dreams of being a hero. Like most guys, when I was growing up I used to dream about delivering the game-winning home run with two outs in the bottom of the ninth, or completing a hail-Mary pass in the fourth quarter as time expires to win the championship. I never had the opportunity (okay, I never had the talent) to experience such heroism, so I mostly live out my sports fantasies through real athletes, and each time I witness a last-minute hit/shot/pass/run/kick that wins the game or championship or whatever, I get goose bumps, and whoever comes through in the clutch becomes my new hero: Dwight Clark and "The Catch" in the 1982 NFC Championship, Kirk Gibson and his improbable home run in the 1988 World Series, David Tyree and The Miracle Catch in the Super Bowl earlier this year.

I've vacariously lived through a bunch of Great Moments in Sports, but yesterday while watching the Summer Olympic Games, I got a shot of armchair adrenaline that may just be the most dramatic sports moment I've ever witnessed. Maybe you saw it live like I did and said something like Vin Scully famously uttered after Kirk Gibson's inconceivable home run: "I don't believe what I just saw." Or perhaps you saw the morning-after replay on just about every early morning news program and wished you'd seen it live. However you saw The Swim, it was something to see.

Of course, the heroic moment I'm takling about is the photo-finish of the men's 400-meter freestyle relay at The Cube aquatics center in Beijing, and the unlikely hero was Jason Lezak. Now, I'm going to go on record and predict that in a few years--maybe sooner--the world won't remember the name Jason Lezak like it does Dwight Clark, Kirk Gibson, or even David Tyree.

You see, Jason Lezak isn't a larger-than-life hero like so many who have come before him. He's an ordinary, working-class hero, like the guy who saves a kid from drowning and then shuns the limelight. He's a role player who responds to accolades by simply saying, "I was just doing my job."

Indeed, the 32-year-old Lezak, a three-time Olympian who has been overshadowed over the years by more popular swimmers like Ian Crocker and Michael Phelps, isn't generally recognized as the elite swimmer he is. But he never complains, content to just do his job in support of the team. Well, with last night's race, he did much more than support the team. With the gold medal on the line, with Michael Phelps drive for eight gold medals on the line, with his team's reputation on the line, Jason Lezak came through in heroic style.

When Lezak dived into the pool as the anchor of the four-man relay race, he was a full body length behind Frenchman Alain Bernard, the world-record holder in the 100 freestyle, who had guaranteed last week that he and his French teammates would "smash" the Americans in this event. As Bernard and Lezak, swimming side-by-side, made the turn for the final 50 meters, the situation looked hopeless. Even Lezak, by his own admission, wondered if he could overtake the French swimmer.

That's when Lezak's true heroic heart took over. "I changed," he said. "I thought, 'That's ridiculous. I'm at the Olympic Games, I'm here for the United States of America. I don't care how bad it hurts, I'm going after it..'"

What happened next was, in the words of ESPN.com writer Pat Forde, "the stuff of Disney movies." Lezak swam down Bernard and edged him by a fingertip, setting a new world record in the event, capturing the gold medal for his team, and preserving Phelps' super-human quest for sports immortality.

If Phelps is able to pull off his incredible goal--and I'm rooting just like everyone else for him to do just that--he will owe a debt of gratitude to my new hero, Jason Lezak, who showed the way heroes are made, not through glitz and glamour, but through perseverance and pressure and an attitude that says, "I don't care how bad it hurts, I'm going after it."

Shake, Rattle and Roll

Stan Jantz — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 12:34:48 -0700

There are a lot of great reasons to live in Southern California. There's the weather, the beach, Disneyland. What's not to love? Well, for one, those unsettling earthquakes we get every once in a while. And we just had one. Not a big one (certainly not the Big One), but enough of a quake to get your eyes wide open and your mind racing.

According to the United States Geological Survey, the earthquake we had just before noon on Tuesday was somewhere between 5.4 and 5.6 on the good old Richter Scale, and the epicenter was about 40 miles from the Conversantlife.com office. (Okay, so our location didn't factor into the reporting, but I thougfht you would want to know, seeing as how you are concerned for our well being and all.)

Since this wasn't the Big One, and since there doesn't seem to be any report of serious damage, we'll continue working, risking life and limb for our loyal Conversantlife.com community. Of course, you could hardly call what we do work. Like you, we enjoy the news that posted by the community, and we love the blogs by our gifted writers who are all over the country and around the world. Just in the last 24 hours we've had thought-provoking blogs from Nick Bogardus in Mongolia, Lisa Borden in Tanzania, Dan Scott in Nashville, and our dynamic duo of Dan Parris and Rob Lehr from the Give a Damn? project.

Without your participation in Conversantlife.com, of course, all of the great content would just sit there with no one to see it. But you are responding and commenting and voting, all of which tells us that our content is hitting the mark.

Maybe I'm not supposed to say this, but I can't help it. The earthquake made me do it. We're going to be unveiling a new home page design in the next couple of weeks. It's not a radical revision, just a timely update that will make it easier for you to navigate around. We hope you like it.

And speaking of navigating around, be sure to check out two of our most dynamic features: The Bridge and Undiscovered. There is some great stuff being posted in these areas, and it's all from the Conversantlife.com community--and that includes you! If you've been someplace like Mongolia or Tanzania or Fresno, put up a Bridge profile and tell us about your experience. Share pictures. Tell us what you learned. If you're a creator of any kind--writer, painter, photographer, musician, filmmaker--put yor stuff on Undiscovered. It's what Conversantlife.com is all about.

I could go on, but I just felt an aftershock. Better call my mother.

I'm Okay With Being a Loser

Stan Jantz — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 15:24:52 -0700

I've never felt this way before. I feel like an outsider, an anomaly, a weirdo, a putz. I've never felt this way before except maybe in the fourth grade when I got cut from a Little League team. What a loser. That's how I feel now.

And I'm okay with it.

I guess I should have seen this coming. Some really smart and successful people have been calling me a loser for a number of years now. Ted Turner started it, and now Bill Mahr, Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens have jumped on the bandwagon. Even Bill Gates, the king of philanthropy, once said that church is for losers.

Okay, so it's not like these titans of business, entertainment, and science have personally contacted me just to say, "HEY LOSER!" But they've said as much to the kind of people I identify with--people whose beliefs about reality and way things work in the world are centered in the Bible and the person of Christ. I never really let it bother me, figuring that people who are on TV (or who own a TV network) or who write bestselling books for run big companies are entitled to call other people losers. That's fine. I still know plenty of people who hold beliefs similar to mine, so I'm comfortable. If we're all losers, so be it. At least we're in the majority, even if we aren't rich and famous.

But now I'm beginning to wonder if there are as many people out there who share my beliefs as I once thought. Maybe I've been living with the misperception that a comfortable majority of people in America still hold beliefs similar to mine. Actually, there's no "maybe" about it. If reliable organizations such as the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life are to be believed, I am in the minority. I have been cut from the team. I am officially an "outsider."

Recently the folks at Pew (isn't that a great name, by the way, for an organization that does research on religious people and their beliefs?) conducted a comprehensive survey called The U.S. Religious Landscape Survey. They interviewed more than 35,000 adults, including 3500 residents of my home state, California. They found that most people believe in God (71% of the nation is "absolutely certain" that God exists), and nearly two-thirds believe that "Holy Scripture" is the word of God.

However, when you separate the responses of Californians, the numbers drop somewhat in terms of belief. Only 62 percent of my fellow Golden Staters believe that God exists, and barely half of them believe the Bible is God's word. Okay, that's not great, but it's not bad. At least I'm still in the majority.

Then I participated in a survey of my own, one of those boxes embedded in websites like espn.com, where they ask you if you think the Chicago Cubs will win the World Series this year, and only 2% of the respondents say yes. The survey I took was part of a Los Angeles Times article on the Pew Survey and the way the results differ in California. There were only three questions in this little online survey:

Do you believe in God or a universal spirit? That's a pretty open-ended question, so even someone who believes in The Fonz as their Higher Power could answer "yes." That's the box I checked, and to my surprise only 39 percent of the 20,000 respondents did the same. A full 61 percent of my fellow Angelenos said they did not believe in God or The Fonz.
How important is religion in your life? Again, nothing harsh here. You don't have to be Rick Warren to answer yes to this question, yet only 35 percent said religion was either very important or somewhat important. Nearly two-thirds said it was not important.
How often do you attend religious services? I realize that some very religious people don't attend religious services. Still, only 36 percent of the people who responded to this survey said they went to church as much as once a week or as little as "a few times a year." Sixty-four percent said they never go to church.

Maybe the response to these questions would have been inverted in one of those regions where people turn to God and their guns in difficult times, but out here in Southern California people like me are definitely in the minority.

And I'm okay with it. In fact, the feeling of not being part of the majority party, which initially made me feel all loser-like, is beginning to grow on me. Even more, in a bizarre way, knowing that out here on the Left Coast I am more or less a stranger in a strange land, I feel somehow empowered. Weird, huh? By "empowered," I don't mean in a "the rest of you are going to hell" kind of way, but in a way that helps me identify more closely with Jesus and His disciples.

I recently read the prayer of Jesus for His disciples in John 17 (sometimes called the real Lord's Prayer), and I have to tell you, there's nothing in there that says the followers of Christ are supposed to be in the majority, or that we will be loved by the world, or that we won't be called losers. In fact, Jesus pretty much says the opposite. "The world has hated them," Jesus prays, "for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world" (v. 14). "They are not of the world, even as I am not of it" (v. 16). Jesus even reminds His followers that the world does not know the Father (v. 25). Wow. Pretty strong stuff. I guess Jesus isn't surprised by the findings of the Pew Survey.

So what are we losers supposed to do? Staying with the prayer of Jesus, it seems pretty clear that we are to be set apart (the Bible word is sanctified) by the truth, which Jesus defines as "your word" (v. 17). And it's a really good idea for all of us in the minority to "be brought into complete unity" so that the world (that would be the majority, the non-losers) would know that the Father loves them and sent Jesus as proof (v. 23). And apparently we shouldn't keep our beliefs to ourselves. Jesus makes it clear that His prayer isn't for us losers alone. "I also pray for those who will believe in me through their message" (v. 20). It's the old "in the world but not of the world" deal. We can't separate from the world. We have to be in it, informing the cultural conversation with truth, justice, compassion, and most of all, love.

With all this in mind, I'm okay with being a loser. In fact, I'm more than okay. I'm kind of proud of the label.

Of Salmon and Plastic Water Bottles

Stan Jantz — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 15:27:31 -0700

So I'm walking through Trader Joe's in Huntington Beach with my favorite uncle, who happens to work at a Trader Joe's in Chicago. He's retired from teaching and decided to work a few hours a week at a place he really loves. If you aren't familiar wtih Trader Joe's, it's as much a cultural phenomenon as it is a grocery store. There are 300 hundred of them, mostly in the West and East Coasts, yet each one feels like a neighborhood Mom and Pop shop filled with uniquely branded food, funky signs, and friendly staff members who seem to actually enjoy their jobs. And then there are the customers, who for the most part appear to be college-educated-Birkenstock-wearing-eat-healthy-care-for-the-planet kind of people who are fiercely loyal to their favorite grocery store.

Those words pretty much described my uncle before he began working for TJ's (except for the Birkenstock part--he wears regular shoes). Now that he has a few months under his belt as a TJ's crew member (that's what they call their employees), you can add another descriptor: evangelist. And not just about TJ's, but about food and eating and the effect both of these have on our planet. I'm cool with that. No one's going to argue that eating the right kinds of food is important. But what do food and eating have to do with the planet? As I found out from my TJ's flag waving uncle, plenty.

He made one comment in particular that got my attention, and it has to do with one of my favorite foods: salmon. I love salmon. It tastes good, it's good for you (all those Omega 3 fatty acids), and it's a great alternative to meat, which I've been cutting down on due to higher-than-desired cholesterol. Little did I know that salmon is quickly becoming the scourge of food activists, and it has little to do with mercury levels. What I didn't know--and what my uncle quickly told me--is that salmon are carnivores. What that means is that salmon eat other fish. No big deal, until you realize that because of salmon's worldwide popularity, it takes a lot of fish to feed farmed salmon.

To be precise, thirty million tons--about a third of the world's wild catch of fish--goes into the manufacture of fish meal and oil, much of which is used to raise farmed salmon. By comparison, fish like carp and tilapia are herbivores, so eating them actually helps the world's fish population.

I know this is just one little example, but it got me to thinking. Are there other things we routinely consume--whether food or other commodities--that have similar negative effects on our natural resources? That's when I looked at the plastic water bottle sitting on my desk.

I've often thought about the phenomenon of bottled water, but in these terms: Why do we pay good money for something that's essentially free? For myself, I guess it has to do with taste and convenience, but does that justify the expense? I have to be honest, I wouldn't have given it a second thought last year, but in this current economic climate, I'm evaluating every expense, and cutting out bottled water--which doesn't represent a significant part of my budget, but is an expense that could be classified as "unnecessary"--isn't the worst idea I've had in the last month.

Then I did a little research and came upon a website called Bottled Water Blues which gave me more reason to evaluate my consumption of bottled water than simple economics. Among the facts posted on this site are these:

Sixty million plastic bottles a day are disposed of in America
Millions of gallons of fuel are used daily to transport bottled water around the world
It requires three times as much water to make the bottle as it does to fill it

Whoa. That last one got to me, and I immediately thought of salmon. When we consume certain resources that consume other resources at an alarming rate, maybe it's time to change our habits. And it's not like we can't find other fish to eat or other water to drink. At least in the case of good old H2O, non-bottled water is probably better for us anyway. In the course of my ten-minute research, I was also surprised to find out that bottled water is no safer than the water that comes out of the tap. In fact, it may be less helpful. Bottled water doesn't contain flouride; municipal water does. And then there's the matter of the plastic itself. By now most of us know that over time, all plastic bottles leach synthetic chemicals into water. So depending on how long that plastic bottle sitting on my desk was first sitting in a warehouse, drinking bottled water could actually be harmful when compared to good old city water.

I'm no crusader on this stuff, but for now I have decided to wean myself off of salmon and bottled water. Is that a big deal? Not really. But what if a whole bunch of people did that? Would it help the world's fish supply? Would it help the already dwindling water supply? If the statistics are to be believed, it probably would. And the thing is, it's not inconvenient for those of us who routinely consume either salmon or bottled water or (in my case) both. And even if it were, would it kill us to give up some things that we don't really need (like a particular kind of fish or plastic bottles to hold our water) so that we can contribute to something that would actually do some good? Sounds like a net gain to me.

What began as a simple trip to Trader Joe's has now turned into something a little bigger. I guess I have my uncle to thank. Which I can do by buying more Trader Joe's Dunkers, which are just fantastic in Trader Joe's free trade coffee (wow, I really am turning into one of "them").