The spirit of Beyoncé takes hold on Nob Hill

“I’m getting chills!” yelled a young woman behind me at Grace Cathedral’s first-ever Beyoncé Mass.

It was 6:32 p.m. Wednesday, April 25, and the big-screen countdown to the main event had just begun.

No matter. My fellow worshiper — a black woman, like me, and like far more of the evening’s crowd than the usual attendance at Grace Cathedral — was already feeling the spirit.

Why not? As the service proved, the cultural phenomenon of Beyoncé Knowles-Carter — yes, the same Beyoncé who has sold more than 100 million albums and won 22 Grammys, the same Beyoncé who regularly performs in little more than a leotard, the same Beyoncé who has infuriated half of the country for taking political stands, like her support of Black Lives Matter — provides a clear route into spiritual practice.

This is a contentious assertion even in the free-spirited Bay Area. In the days before the event, the organizers reported hearing angry objections to its existence, to the point that they considered hiring security.

At this newspaper, we received letters from readers who were offended (or worse) at the idea that Grace Cathedral on Nob Hill would choose to celebrate Beyoncé. Contemporary Christian culture made its peace with pop music long ago (there’s a Grammy award for Christian music, for crying out loud), so the racial and class resentments in this particular criticism were pretty obvious. It’s too bad.

For one thing, Beyoncé may be the most high-profile Christian in popular culture right now. She comes out of a very specific tradition — the black Southern Methodist Church — that emphasizes social justice, charitable activity and personal forgiveness.

Say what you will about her, but she’s certainly exhibited all of those qualities on the world stage. (I hope Jay-Z is still grateful for the final item on that list.)

For another thing, Beyoncé’s actions over the past few years offer lessons to people of all faiths.

Watching her performance at this year’s Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival a couple of weeks ago — when she disrupted another historically white and affluent space by creating a theatrical event in celebration of black diasporic culture, with more than 100 dancers, singers and musicians for a spectacle that the Internet dubbed #Beychella — it was hard for me not to meditate on the larger questions she was posing:

What kind of story do you want to share with people? How can you comfort your community in hard times? How do you lean into joy when rage feels more appropriate?

These are moral and spiritual questions. By the look of the crowd on Wednesday, I’m not the only person who’s been asking them.

Grace Cathedral staff estimate that more than 900 people showed up for the Mass.

They were diverse in age, sexuality, race, creed. When I arrived at 6:15 p.m. for the 6:30 service, most of the seats were taken. People continued streaming in even after the Mass began. They perched on the benches tucked behind the pillars, singing along even though they couldn’t see the choir or the screens. They wheeled their babies up and down the aisles.

They were eager to participate in a Beyoncé Mass that turned out to be very similar to other Christian services.

Bible stories were told. Jesus and Mary were mentioned many times. Communion followed the standard protocol of bread and wine. The language of “empire” — a familiar biblical villain in the black American church, if not to the usual Grace Cathedral crowd — was offered by the Rev. Yolanda Norton, who presided over the service.

What’s more, the audience was familiar and comfortable with these traditions. Everyone nodded at the readings from Psalms and Luke. They chimed in with the eucharistic prayer at all the right moments. They recited the Lord’s Prayer from memory.

This was not an audience that was about to mistake Beyoncé, or any other star, for God.

What made the experience radical — and perhaps this is what truly made the Mass so offensive to some people — wasn’t even Beyoncé’s music, it was the fact that this was a Mass in honor of the message of her work, which is a celebration of black American women in the past, the present and the future.

“We’ve been through so much at the hands of empire,” Norton said in her sermon. “But through those who came before me, I’m here to say that I’m a black woman created in the image of God.”

That line got thunderous applause, as did her interpretation of what Beyoncé can teach us.

“The best rage we have against empire is love,” Norton said. “When we love in the face of hatred, empires fall. So find a love that looks like joy. Dance like no one is watching. Laugh in the face of those who seek your tears.”

Norton’s words helped the congregation understand the spirit. So when the service ended with “Formation,” we shook off our chills and began to dance.

This was a Mass in honor of Beyoncé’s message, a celebration of black American women.