At some point this holiday season, I will have to enter the great memorial to money and spend every cent in my pocket. While this will make me sober, it also will contribute to the well-being of many relatives and friends.

In Minnesota, we have many memorials to money. There are the Dales — Ridgedale, Rosedale, Southdale — as well as a whole bunch of other malls that don’t quite measure up to “Dale” status.

But we also have one giant center of retail commerce, the Mall of America, which is touted as one of the largest malls in the world. A mall in Canada may be larger by a shop or two, but Minnesota’s “Megamall” is the real “big” deal.

You can enter the Mall of America in the morning and walk in and out of shops until evening. Then the entertainment section beckons, and you can boogie until morning. In all that time, you might never have to face your inner being or those spiritual fibers that march you along from birth to death. Sure, you might run into one religious store, a Catholic shop that sells all manner of help for the faithful. But if you don’t like what it sells, you can leave and never come back. In a big mall, it’s simple to avoid anything remotely connected to faith.

You’ve probably experienced some of this soulless shopping. We trudge along, pilgrims dedicated to consumption, with no thought of how this will rot our souls or shrivel our chakras.

But hope is not all lost. Two local guys have been working for years to bring some meaning to the big mall experience. Delton Krueger, a retired United Methodist pastor, and John Chell, a retired Lutheran pastor, might not be the most exciting men at the mall, but they are determined.

Together they have been massaging the environment, forming committees, contacting shop owners and making their presence known to store and mall managers at the Mall of America. Patient fellows of good cheer, they are winning the battle, albeit slowly.

Early next year, they will open a kiosk at a prime location in the Mall of America. The electronic kiosk will feature a powerful computer with a touch-screen system that will reveal all the congregations in the Twin Cities, plus an interfaith calendar and information about the religions of the world. To finance the kiosk’s operation, the computer also will carry information about religious products available through the Mall Area Religious Council, an organization the two founded years ago.

The kiosk, say Chell and Krueger, is the first step to the real dream: a full-scale store, run by volunteers, that will offer jewelry, artifacts, greeting cards, T-shirts — just about anything you could ever hope to buy as an expression of your faith. If they ever get The Meaning Store (as it is to be called) up and running, it will be a hit — count on it.

But that dream may be a couple of years off, because Chell and Krueger will have to raise about $100,000 just to get the merchandise together. These plans — practical and spiritual at the same time — have been formulated over the years by the Mall Area Religious Council.

The trick to bringing spiritual meaning to a merchandise mall is patience. The first rule to pay attention to is: Mall managers want to make money. So don’t get in their way. The second: Mall managers don’t want to make anyone angry. So play your cards right, and you may capture the ear of an earnest manager.

Finally, make the pitch nonspiritual. Tell them you simply want to help the mall succeed, and if they appreciate your effort, some rewards might bounce back to the religious people you represent. This is an amazing opportunity to connect with thousands of people at the most spiritual — and material — season of the year for Christians.

Stop complaining about the commercialization of Christmas and instead put yourself in the mix. You know where people are heading these days — to the mall. If you aren’t there with them, they might miss the ultimate message.

Clark D. Morphew