Chance the Rapper’s sold-out concert Saturday at the United Center ended in tears. The happy kind. Overcome with emotion after his family surprised him onstage with bouquets of flowers, the hometown hip hop pioneer waved off his band and told the crowd he would be unable to rap the final song.

It was that kind of night on the Near West Side, where the celebration of a 10-year-old mixtape turned into an uplifting affair that involved old friends, former collaborators and a combination of music, ideas and gratitude that dared imagine a better, more inclusive world than the one many of us inhabit.

The occasion functioned as the crowning event amid a week that featured several local Chance-themed experiences. A pop-up store, special exhibits at WNDR Museum and an in-person conversation at the Apple Store on Michigan Avenue served as preludes. Chance will soon play similar gigs in New York and Los Angeles.

Having kept a relatively low profile for the last few years, Chance is using the 10th anniversary of his most famous mixtape (“Acid Rap”) as both a springboard for a new, highly anticipated project — “Star Line Gallery,” which will reportedly blend art, sound and cinematography through interdisciplinary works and collaborations — and a reminder of his elevated status in a genre that seemingly evolves on a monthly basis.

This isn’t a new strategy. In efforts to preserve their relevance, older rock bands continue to commemorate milestone albums and tours. The trend has been far less common in hip hop. Chance, however, currently stands at a crossroads.

As recently as seven years ago, the Chicago native ruled the city and his music resonated across the country. He presided over a massive Coloring Day festival at then-U.S. Cellular Field. In the time since, the entrepreneur released just one album (“The Big Day,” 2019), a holiday mixtape and a handful of singles. The 30-year-old now faces the grown-up pressures of following up on a record met with lukewarm reactions and proving he can still innovate.

Indeed, for all of the looking back Chance did throughout the 95-minute set, he also considered the present and future. Despite playing only one original made since 2016 (“The Highs & The Lows”), the rapper born Chancelor Johnathan Bennett paused to deliver an extended monologue that attempted to put “Acid Rap” and its value into context.

Speaking from the heart, Chance spoke about what the concert meant to him and said it was the first time his daughters were seeing him live. He addressed the importance of “Acid Rap” from communal and personal perspectives. Yet he also got tough and removed the rose-colored lenses that often accompany excursions into the past.

“That part of my life is over,” he declared, before talking about how much he has grown and changed since making the mixtape and turning into a phenom who became a darling of the independent community. The combination of sincerity and finality instilled Chance’s messages with the impression that he views the anniversary concerts as definitive endpoints — the closing of a door so that another might open.

The weight of his direct statements, coupled with his effervescent energy and grateful demeanor, helped give the show the liberating sensation of an end-of-summer block party wherein all attendees remain safe from physical harm, insults, beefs, racism, worries and curfews — not impossible in Chance’s imagination or dreams.

Backed by his longtime Social Experiment colleagues (led by trumpeter Nico Segal and keyboardist Peter Cottontale), and augmented by a trio of backing vocalists, Chance envisioned places filled with warmth, fun and faith. He proudly repped Chicago in verse, imagery and shout-outs — as well as in his choice of guests. Opener Saba joined Chance on “Everybody’s Something” and “Angels”; fellow Chicago-born rappers Noname, Vic Mensa and Twista also contributed verses to select songs.

Recurrent gospel harmonies, R&B rhythms, pulsing beats and footwork grooves further tied a majority of the music to the city, the proud Black church traditions on its South and West sides, and the house culture that erupted in its underground clubs. Chance split his time between rapping and singing, and displayed a fascinating ability to switch tones, accents and tempos akin to a narrator who voices multiple characters in an adventure story. His ensemble possessed a similar knack for adaptation.

Chance halted one song without warning, added an extra chorus to another and segued into segments of Lauryn Hill fare without throwing anyone for a loop. A gliding rendition of Segal and company’s “Sunday Candy” that had the group holding court while Chance briefly hunted for the words? No problem. A loose reinterpretation (“Wonderful Everyday”) of the theme for the animated PBS series “Arthur” originally done by Ziggy Marley as “Believe in Yourself”? Apropos seeing how its primary refrain — “Every day, it could be wonderful” — matched Chance’s positive-minded ethos.

Yes, Chance entertained moments of skepticism (“All Night”), indulgence (“Smoke Again”) and empty-headed braggadocio (a cover of DJ Khaled’s “I’m the One”). He also punctuated a few tunes with pyrotechnics, confetti and smoke. But, to borrow from a phrase ingrained in hip hop code, he kept it real. He never acted above anyone in the audience, elevated himself as a celebrity or devolved into stereotype.

Whether bounding about in black pants, a Blackhawks jersey and his signature “3″ baseball cap during the praise dance “Blessings,” or reflecting on high school, Michael Jackson and trying to be cool on the introspective “Acid Rain,” Chance came across as relatable and approachable. Those traits took on heightened significance again and again, particularly on “Paranoia” — a sobering streetwise Chicago dispatch that a decade removed from its creation still ripples with uncomfortable truths and unanswered questions — and piano-based “Same Drugs,” whose evolutionary themes telescoped beyond those concerning a relationship between two individuals.

Chance explored a range of feelings, ultimately landing on those surrounding love, joy, spiritualism and optimism. As his father told him onstage: “(You’re) a great example of how to do positive things.”

Chicago, America and hip hop at large would do well to follow his lead.

Bob Gendron is a freelance critic.

Setlist from the United Center Aug. 19, 2023:

“No Problem”

“All Night”

“Blessings”

“Good Ass Intro”

“Pusha Man”

“Paranoia”

“Everybody’s Something”

“Angels”

“D.R.A.M. Sings Special”

“Sunday Candy”

“Nana”

“Lost”

“Juice”

“I’m the One” (DJ Khaled cover)

“The Highs & The Lows”

“Doo Wop (That Thing)” into “To Zion” (Lauryn Hill medley)

“Wonderful Everyday” (Ziggy Marley cover)

“Ultralight Beam” (Kanye West cover)

“Favorite Song”

“Smoke Again”

“Acid Rain”

“Cocoa Butter Kisses”

“Same Drugs”

“Chain Smoker”

“Interlude (That’s Love)”

“Everything’s Good (Good Ass Outro)” (curtailed)