Singing the Praises of the King of Gospel : Pop music: A procession of musical giants pay their respects to the Rev. James Cleveland in a spiritual tribute.

When the Rev. James Cleveland began his gospel-singing career as a young boy 50 years ago, said an emcee during a tribute concert Monday night, “a voice came from heaven and said, ‘This is my beloved son in whom I am well-pleased, and you can’t touch this .’ ”

Professionally speaking, she was right.

Time, however, has finally touched the oft-crowned King of Gospel, who has suffered health problems and cannot sing right now because of a tracheotomy.

At Monday’s four-hour, golden anniversary tribute to “King James” at a near-capacity Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Cleveland--slowed down considerably and grayed but comporting himself in a near-regal fashion apropos to his nickname--had to remain the silent center of attention, difficult as that may have been for a longtime leader of the pack.

It was a high-spirited, sometimes tearfully emotional scene reminiscent of last year’s televised salute to Sammy Davis Jr., who was also present at his tribute but not able to raise his own voice in song.

Lacking TV cameras or a strong show-biz presence, this almost ceaselessly brilliant concert came off far more love-driven and musically pure, offering up one seemingly unsurpassable peak after another, for attendees only.

Cleveland’s voice was sadly missed--and the fact that the evening contained not a single aural snippet or video clip of Cleveland in action was unconscionable--yet the roof was nonetheless raised as nearly every heavyweight of black gospel music appeared for a song or three and left an indelible impression, like the blinding image that remains in the retina after a flash bulb has popped.

Cleveland has been credited with popularizing the mass choir, and the 100-plus-voice congregation that started the show with a medley was mass indeed, its members--some in robes, some in suits and dresses--coming down to sing one or two verses each of songs written by or otherwise associated with Cleveland for a good, uninterrupted half-hour.

Spoken homages, as expected, slowed things down a bit midway. For all the local politicians or representatives of city officials who presented proclamations and waxed unexpectedly spiritual--”Praise the Lord!” started off Councilman Robert Farrell, reminding us that, Dorothy, we’re not in City Hall anymore--it almost seemed for a few scant minutes as if Los Angeles really were a City of Angels.

Non-proclamation highlights included former Cleveland sideman Billy Preston, nearly doing to “How Great Thou Art” on organ what Jimi Hendrix did to “The Star-Spangled Banner” on guitar; the Andrae and Sandra Crouch singers, fronted by vocalist Tata Vega, who, with a candid saved-from-sex-and-drugs rap, provided the concert’s earthiest moments; and the Williams Brothers, who made full use of the rhythm section for the funkiest music of the evening.

The Hawkins Family made a terrific impression--as did, performing separately, Tramaine Hawkins, though she was a little melodramatic for some tastes in pointedly directing her lyrics at Cleveland up in the balcony. The undisputed champions, however, were the reunited Caravans, fronted by Shirley Caesar--all well into middle age, their talents all undiminished by time. This was the gospel equivalent of, say, a Supremes reunion, heightened 10 times.

“I’m not worried about the undertaker!” said Caesar. “I’m thankful for the upper-taker!” For four hours, at least, the Chandler Pavilion had the highest elevation of any spot on Earth.