Seventy-five years ago, the congregation gathered here, in a somewhat smaller version of our sanctuary, to dedicate their new building to the ideals of our liberal faith. It had taken three years to get to that point - a long time, even back then. The church was far from solvent financially. They borrowed money from the American Unitarian Association to buy the lot, for a hefty five thousand dollars. Even with the new building and a growing congregation, the church could not afford to pay for a minister, subsisting instead on part-time help and subsidies for salaries until 1950.

What were they thinking? Anybody could see that this idealistic band did not have financial viability. Leadership was shaky too. The minister, James Macdonald, left Santa Monica two years later. Ernie Pipes noted once that only one of our early ministers even stayed with the profession. Others felt a deeper call - one to acting, another to writing, yet another to politics.

Well aware of their fragility and up to their ears in debt, the congregation boldly declared their faith at the dedication service. "[We are] representatives of ...[a] liberal religious fellowship," they read - as we did just a few moments ago, "which dares to trust the innate spiritual impulses of the human soul..." They dared to trust.

They believed in themselves. They did not hold back on their expectations of what this community could be. "We dedicate this church," James Macdonald wrote, "to the nourishing of faith in the progress of humanity..." and to the "Spirit of Eternal Love, which is the ultimate Refuge of the human soul." They spoke bold, hopeful words to sanctify this space with the highest ideals anyone can imagine.

They cared about the future. They dedicated this space in confidence that "a church of this free spirit ...will serve in our own day and in generations yet to come ..." Which is exactly what this church then went ahead and did.

Our history is very present today. It is present in words and artifacts. And it is present in this space - which remains dedicated to the purposes declared so many years ago.

We are conscious of the passage of time. A lifetime has since passed, and it has been an eventful one. Our founders would not have been able to predict any of it. But they were able to see that there would always be a need for what our faith has to offer.

Now we are looking to the future once again. What will our lifetime represent? How will we put our imprint on the next seventy-five years? What will our successors have to say about us?

No doubt they will note that it took a lot longer to build something on the corner of Eighteenth and Arizona this time around. Our story is taking on epic proportions already - and we haven't built a thing. Today we stand ready to move forward, at long last. What we have before us is our "once in a lifetime" shot at building a church for our time and faith.

Some of you may sense irony in our capital campaign theme, "once in a lifetime." From the early days after we made the decision to stay here at Eighteenth and Arizona, through the long and complex process of designing a plan that we took all the way to the Santa Monica Planning Commission; from the years of raising the money to the many congregational meetings to vote how to spend it, we have undergone a long and demanding adventure together. We have debated passionately and labored long. If you have gone through it, you know that it feels more like a lifetime than "once in a lifetime."

One year ago, it looked like everything had finally fallen into place. A generous bequest dropped into our collective lap. The Planning Commission approved our plans. We were closer to breaking ground than we had ever been. Then the house next door went on the market. Everything changed...and all for the better.

Now, one year and a lot of work later, we come together with a new plan - for a compact and attractive campus all on the same side of the street, with versatile outdoor space, and room for children of all ages. We can expand our sanctuary and upgrade Forbes Hall. What we waited so long to accomplish is finally within our reach.

We call our new capital campaign "once in a lifetime" because it represents all the vision, all the planning, and all the passion it has taken to get us to this point. This process brought out the best in our community: builders and dreamers, designers and leaders. Talented people have come forward every step of the way.

We could not have gotten to this point, however, without the generous contributions so many of you have already made. Without that first capital campaign, we would never have been able to buy the house next door. We would not have known all the increments and decisions it takes to design a plan that meets not only the approval of our congregation, but the City and the larger community as well. We would not have heard about the respect and loyalty our church has earned over these past seventy-five years. These experiences have given us confidence and pride.

Our building adventure has taught us a lot about our congregation. We have learned that we have the ability to navigate complex decisions. We have discovered that people will come forward - with contributions of all kinds - to help us meet our goals. We have found that we are part of a community that supports our work and wishes us well. We know we can do it.

Now we are ready to do it again: raise more money, revisit the Planning Commission, wrestle with the next set of decisions. Is it taking a long time? Yes. But it was worth the wait. Is it going to take forever? Not if we can possibly help it.

And each of us can help. Come see our new plans and learn about what it will take to bring them to reality. The gathering in Forbes Hall after the service will tell you more.

It is a big event in the life of a church - a once in a lifetime event - to undertake a project of this size. We have given a lot already, and we will ask ourselves to give even more. There may be days - there may already have been days - when we will ask ourselves, what were we thinking? But then we will remember, as we do this morning, that this is what it means to have faith in who we are and what we want to be in the world. Just as our predecessors dedicated this sanctuary in the name of all that they valued, loved, and aspired to be, so do we enlarge on their vision and make it our own.

What we are building is something more than a structure, however badly we need it. We are making a place for our faith. We are saying that what happens within these rooms is precious, even sacred, for us. We are learning that we grow strong and hopeful by being part of this community. And we are seeking to take what gives us strength and hope here and give it back to the world.

The parable of the Emerald lizard, that I told the children earlier in the service, teaches more than one lesson at the same time. A loving heart can turn a gift into something of great value, as Brother Pedro did for the poor peasant. The peasant benefits from the gift and prospers in life. He no longer needs the gift, but he is not finished with it. He needs to give it back, in gratitude for all that he has received.

The gifts that we receive from one another are the simple exchanges that make these rooms so precious. Lives are transformed here, transformed by kindness, by understanding, by inspiration, and by truth; transformed by the gift of community we find in the space we have made for our faith. Once in a lifetime, it comes time to give back.

As our predecessors knew, some seventy-five years ago, there would be souls who need this place. We are the souls. And now we are also the builders. Let us get back to work, until this gift we have dreamed of is finished at last.