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MR. WILBUR LOVES THE CONDOR by Dave Boehi Sandy Wilbur sees man as responsible for the demise of the great condor. He looks on his work as God's call to preserve this species.       Sanford "Sandy" Wilbur is God's condor man. He's also a family man, and his official titles are "wildlife research biologist" and "leader of the California condor recovery team" for the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service, but the informal title seems more appropriate. It tells you more about the man.       Sandy's job is a difficult one: He is striving to prevent the extinction of a species. Many people have probably never even heard of the California condor. Still fewer have known the thrill of watching the gigantic bird with the nine-foot wing span soar through the air. Only 45 condors are still alive today, and much of their nesting area is found within a 53,000-acre sanctuary in the coastal mountains north of Los Angeles.       Two hundred years ago, however, several thousand condors lived all along the Pacific Coast, from British Columbia to Baja California. This was before man began moving westward in great numbers. He has never treated the condors well.       Direct persecution caused many of the deaths. Condors were shot so wings could be measured, or so men could get a closer look at them. Condors were unpopular because they -- like their cousin, the vulture -- feed on dead animals, and men unfairly blamed them for killing the dead livestock they fed on. Condors and condor eggs were collected for museums. The birds, which had no natural enemies before man arrived on the scene, could not reproduce at a fast enough rate to replenish their diminishing population.       Even now, though strict laws forbid killing condors, their future seems bleak. Their population has decreased by about 10 in the last eight years. Cities, suburbs and orange groves have limited their foraging area, meaning they have to fly further to find food.       No development of any kind is allowed within the sanctuary, but it contains one of the few undammed creeks in the state and it sits atop what could be a major oil pool. To date, the condor has halted a major water project, limited oil exploration and drilling, affected highway planning and development and has influenced many changes in public land management in Ventura County.       Some are clamoring that the condor must move aside to allow for "economic growth." To them it is an anachronism, an ancient bird which serves no useful purpose in today's "modern" world. Others call the condor "ugly" and "repulsive.'' Still others call it a "haunting symbol of life itself."       In the middle of this battle stands God's condor man. He offers a different, but surprisingly simple, reason for his motivation and for his efforts to save the bird:       "God didn't make any mistakes in what He put here to begin with," says Sandy. "He made sure that in the Great Flood everything was preserved. I don't see any reason why we should do less. I see helping to save the condors as doing the work of the Lord."       The diminishing population of the condor, Sandy says, is evidence that "man is out of harmony with God." Some have argued that the bird is "on its way out, evolutionarily," but Sandy answers these critics with facts: "Since 1800, virtually everything bad that's happened to the condor can be blamed on man. The first Caucasian man who reported seeing a condor in this country also reported killing it. From then on, just reading through journals, it's the same story. We are stewards over God's creation, but we haven't lived up to our responsibilities."       Sandy Wilbur is a man who, at age 36, seems unpressured by the pressures surrounding him. He is calm and confident, with a low-key sense of humor. He seems to understand things: He understands that his job entails much more than studying condors or providing carcasses for them to feed on ~ it involves dealing with corporations and companies, writing magazine articles defending the condor and handling all kinds of man-related problems.       Most important, as a committed Christian he understands his own limitations, his relationship with God through the person of Jesus Christ, and how his faith affects his day-to-day living. "Everything fits together in God's plan," Sandy says. "I can't divorce my job from any other part of my life, whether it's church or home or family."       The Wilburs live in Ojai, a picturesque little town near the condor sanctuary. Sandy and his wife, Sally, have two children: Shawn, 15, and Sara, 11. The family seems close-knit, drawn together by a common love for Christ and for each other.       "We like each other," Sally explains. "We enjoy doing things, such as hiking together. We all like condors. Also, I think we depend a lot on opening ourselves up to each other and sharing ourselves with each other. I see many people give their children a lot of things, but they lead their own lives and the children lead their own." Sara's sixth-grade teacher, Ron DeVito, adds, "The children are the reflection of close family relationships, of a Christ-centered family."       To Sandy and Sally, being where God wants them not only involves making Christ the center of their home, it also means being a witness for Him in their community. Some, knowing of the Wilburs' Christian faith, have called or dropped by, desiring counseling. One woman needing help called Sally, knowing she had a "hot line to God." "We find that when we're available, the Lord directs people our way," Sandy says.       Sandy hasn't always had such a firm grasp of God's plan for him. And he hasn't always been so calm in the face of the many pressures he withstands on his job. Nine years ago he was a hard-driving, self-sufficient man with no interest in spiritual things. "I was pretty good and I knew it," Sandy says. "I had a good job (with the Fish and Wildlife Service), and I was advancing just about as fast as anybody could. I was convinced I didn't need anyone or anything else.       "But I was also carrying too much on myself at work. I was having emotional problems because I wanted things to go faster and to go my way. A doctor told me I didn't have an ulcer yet, but if I kept on driving myself so hard, I could soon have one."       At about the same time, Sally made a recommitment to Christ and became excited about her faith. When she told Sandy about what God was doing in her life, which included answers to prayer, he was disturbed. "He couldn't understand my simple faith," Sally says. "He told me later that he was thinking about divorcing me."       As a scientist (he graduated from Humboldt State College in California with a wildlife management degree), Sandy's biggest problem was understanding how God could actually affect the lives of people on earth. "Scientific training can make it tough for a person to break out of the natural realm and deal with things in the supernatural or spiritual realm," he says. Two things altered his way of thinking, however. First, the Wilburs were transferred in 1967 to Portland, Ore., and there he was influenced by a committed Christian in his office. He also read C. S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. "That book shredded all of my arguments against God," Sandy says. "It's so rational. I've talked to other scientists who also accepted Christ as their Savior after reading this same book."       A few months after Sandy received Christ into his life (in 1968), his whole perspective on living changed. "I realized you can be successful without carrying the world on your shoulders. You can turn those things over to Christ. You can be just as efficient, and you can get just as much done. I've learned a lot about doing the best you can while giving the burden and responsibility over to the Lord."       Sandy has been able to apply these principles to his work with the condors. "Since 1969, when I began working here, I've seen the number of condors drop despite all we've done, but I consider that God's problem, not mine. It's frustrating to see my birds die off, but I'm here to do the best job I can, and the outcome is out of my hands.       "I have to keep my job in perspective because I'm dealing with so many pressures --economic, social, political, emotional people. If I tried to take all these things on my shoulders, I would have that ulcer I almost had before. I've often said that, if I weren't a Christian, I doubt I would be in this profession today."       Many people are surprised that such pressures exist in his job, Sandy says. "This field used to be what you went into to get away from the rat race, but now the incidences of broken homes and alcoholism and anxiety-related problems are just phenomenal. Many of the people I know in this field are happy and excited about their jobs, but many are just hanging on and wishing they could do anything else.       "How do you fight air pollution, for example? You know that fighting pollution is worthwhile. But I think that people who come into this field have a special love for the outdoors and for nature and environment, and when they see that beauty -- despite what they and all their fellow workers are doing--just go down the drain . . . all this eats at you. I don't think I could do it without Christ."       Part of doing the Lord's work, to Sandy, is telling his colleagues what Christ has done in his life. "When you spend a day with a person out in the field, doors open and you can talk about why you are doing what you're doing. Often people have the attitude that science and Christianity have a big gap between them, and never the twain shall meet. But I'm a scientist and a Christian, and that draws some attention. I want the men I work with to have the same source of peace I have."       Not only has God given Sandy a different perspective on his duties and responsibilities in his job; He has also given him greater understanding of why environmental problems exist in the first place. "Some people have blamed Christians and the 'Judeo-Christian ethic' for pollution. They read in Genesis that God told Adam and Eve to multiply and fill the earth, and subdue it, and they say that Christians have been subduing the earth by ruining it. But that just isn't true. If it were, why would there be people like me working to do something that's against our philosophy?       "It's man's sin nature and not the Judeo-Christian ethic that's the cause of the problems. We were made stewards over God's creation, and we haven't taken this seriously. We are very shortsighted in our dealings with our earth and with our fellow man. This refers to pollution of all types, to the unwise use of our natural resources and to the pillaging of the earth."       To Sandy, then, the near extinction of the California condor is evidence of man's sinfulness, and helping to preserve the bird is part of man's responsibility. "Having the condors here really makes us consider what we do in this county," he says. "It makes us more responsible. Not only is killing the condors outlawed, but you can't plan anything --even a new campsite for hikers -- in this forest without considering the impact on condors. We can't just rush in and do a project and worry about the results later.       "I honestly don't know whether or not we'll save the condor. Their future looks pretty grim. They've been reproducing at about half the level they need to just to sustain themselves. But it's a worthy fight, and I'm confident that this is where God wants us to be. Each person in the body of Christ has a particular place. God has chosen to work through His people, and He needs biologists and scientists, too. Everybody needs to be in his place."