Reflections on a Retail Christmas
A Conversation with Reg Carver
Throughout the Church, much lament is heard during the weeks
before Christmas of a pervasive retail-driven
“commercialism,” which is seen by the faithful as
obscuring, even usurping, authentic celebration of Christ's
birth. There is no question that the line between opportunity and
opportunism can be a thin one at this time of year, and appeals to
greed and pretension, rather than to generosity and gratitude, are
unquestionably crass and objectionable to “…all who seek
the Truth” (BCP, p. 392) in preparing for this holy
season.
How, then, does the person of faith, whose chosen profession or
temporary occupation involves retail sales, sustain a sense of
Advent hope and Christmas joy amid the decidedly secular activities
of meeting sales goals, calming last-minute shoppers, and
processing returns? How is one's own spirituality affected or
expressed in this context? The management, staff, and proprietors
of area retail establishments are well represented in the Chapel of
the Cross parish directory, and only a few of these have been at it
longer than parishioner Reg Carver, who this year will mark his
38th Christmas in this field.
Remembering a short, but powerful, exchange with Reg on the
morning of last Christmas Eve near the elegant store he manages at
The Streets at Southpoint, I asked him recently to elaborate on his
thoughts and insights as he prepares for the season.
“For one thing, I try to remember the original Christmas
gift: Jesus Christ. Sure, retail people forget that all the time,
like anybody else, but when I look across a counter or give advice,
I have to believe that the person is in my working life just then
for a reason, and that I can make a difference by the way I listen,
and answer, and serve.
“Long before Thanksgiving, retailers get ready mentally for
what's to come the day after, but preparing spiritually is
just as important, for me. I'm not in this by accident; I
chose this career, and I have to give it my all. Sometimes
there's a lot of stress, but this is how I support myself, and
how I give to the church and through the church to a lot of things
I care about…I can't separate that from my faith. I try
my best to live my faith, not by selling it, but by trying to be an
example of it, there with the Christmas shoppers.”
Reg observed that in the weeks before Christmas, customers are
both receptive and responsive to acts of kindness and consideration
in ways that are less apparent at other times of the year. He noted
that part-timers and retail retirees often want to return year
after year, less for hope of the moderate financial consideration
involved than for a sense of excitement in being part of the
process.
In the earlier memorable conversation last Christmas Eve
morning, I asked Reg, a regular (whenever possible) at the 11:15
service on Sundays and a constant at the Christ Mass and other
feasts and fasts, how he deals with retail 'burnout'
after he closes the store on December 24th. His reply was
instructive: “It's just the opposite. I know that
I've held my head high, done my best to live out my faith in
my work, and when I get to church that night, I get to start my
celebration of Christmas, when some are ending theirs.” As an
Episcopalian, he says, “That's when it all comes
together.”
Lee A. Thomas