I am generally opposed to meritocracy, a positive-sounding concept that falls apart upon examination. In America, highest “merit” is usually attributed to the person who thinks, speaks, and acts most quickly–ie, someone shallow and glib, who runs roughshod over teammates, acts on assumptions, and has a poor grasp of how long actual accomplishment takes. Picture your most recent skip-level manager. Since Americans also positively associate compensation level with merit, clearly we value hedge fund managers, movie stars, and celebrity surgeons over social workers, teachers, and primary care physicians. No merit in that meritocracy.

I believe that everyone has something meritorious to offer, and tend to prefer activities with little hierarchy and lots of participation. These preferences were challenged at my first California Messiah sing.

I have been going to Messiah sings so long that I merited (pun intended)  my own score at the age of 13, so I thought I knew what to expect, but the left coast has its own ideas. First surprise: In this M. sing, anyone in the section is welcome to sing the solos, and many did, which definitely lends a Wild West flavor. As you might expect, the runs are muddy. Words like “crooked” and “appeareth” used the American pronunciation of the letter R. “Accomplished” had four notes but three syllables. The recitatives were, shall we say, challenging to both singers and listeners.

The next jolt: After every solo and chorus, they applauded, in a sort of Yahoo, We did it! way. This was joyous and crowd-affirming, but eliminated the contemplative, awe-invoking nature of the piece.

We ran the Christmas portion straight through then, in a nod to meritocracy, stopped to auction off the right to conduct the Hallelujah Chorus. The winning bid was $500, though I think it was a bit staged as the penultimate bid, $450, was made by the same person. The event is a fundraiser for the church’s music program.

I imagine the other people there thought I was a very happy person, because throughout I displayed a wide smile. I adopted that strategy quite early, the alternative being laughing out loud. Everyone had a fantastic time, and the evening ended with champagne. Maybe next year I can figure out whether this one was anomalous or representative of my new tribe.