Even though P.O.D. formed in ’92 and released four independent albums before hitting paydirt with their platinum major-label debut, The Fundamental Elements of Southtown (Atlantic), most rock fans probably still think of them as flash-in-the-pan Limp Bizkit clones. Their first big hit, " Rock the Party (Off the Hook), " was a mindless jock jam that established frontman Sonny as both a teen heartthrob and a firm devotee of the kind of sing-songy white-boy rapping that’s usually associated with Fred Durst. They followed that up with the equally inane " School of Hard Knocks, " a huge hit last summer from the soundtrack of the Adam Sandler movie Little Nicky. The face of teenybopper metal may have changed since Bon Jovi, but the song remains the same.

On their new Satellite (Atlantic) and its first single, " Alive, " P.O.D. dive headfirst into the historically troubled waters of Christian rock — a genre they’ve long claimed affiliation with but didn’t pay lip service to on either of their hits. To churchgoing ears, there’s no mistaking the born-again fervor in Sonny’s voice on the song’s chorus: " I feel so alive for the very first time/I can’t deny you. " But it’s not preachy enough to alienate the staunchly immoral mainstream-rock crowd the band played to when they went on tour with OzzFest 2000, either. And any Christians who stuck with the band through their trek across the country with the godfather of evil will certainly be relieved to hear such a strong statement of faith right out of the box.

As music, " Alive " harks back to the Deftones-inspired melodicism of P.O.D.’s debut single, " Southtown. " Instead of barking over the chorus the way he usually does, Sonny belts it out anthem-style while guitarist Marcos unfurls a dense array of cock-rock riffs and stinging melody lines. The band take an equally impassioned stab at pop metal on the title track, a soaring eulogy that finds Sonny looking up to the heavens at his deceased mother. By the time they get around to the hippie-soul power ballad " Ghetto " ( " I believe that this world believes in love " ), old-school Christian pop-metal fans will be pulling out their King’s X albums in celebration.

But P.O.D. realize this is a country that calls upon Fred Durst to sing Pink Floyd and Marvin Gaye songs in wartime, and they know which side their bread is buttered on. The explosive " Boom " is their latest attempt to rock the party, with a corny autobiographical verse straight out of the hip-hop game and a beat that almost swings. Even at their most commercial, the band have an authenticity most of their peers lack, probably because they’re actual street kids (three Hispanic, one black) from a gritty part of San Diego they like to call Southtown. When the San Diego school shootings took place in March, the group were rehearsing right down the road. They were freaked out enough to write a song about it, and the resulting track, " Youth of the Nation, " is one of the disc’s highlights. A children’s choir sings its spare, mantra-like chorus, and Sonny shows genuine compassion as he shifts between somber first- and third-person narratives.

The middle ground between urban rap metal and soul-baring Christian pop may seem cavernous, but on their angrier tracks, P.O.D. stumble upon a not-so-obvious synergy between the two. Whether it’s Limp Bizkit versus the playa haters or the church versus the forces of sin and evil in the secular world, both thrive on their underdog status. On " Portrait " and " Set It Off, " Sonny lashes out against " the wicked man " and repeatedly seeks solace in his personal relationship with Christ.

Like many of the band’s songs, " Set It Off " incorporates a reggae feel and wraps their positive message in Rasta imagery. Which brings up another confusing piece of the P.O.D. puzzle: how to reconcile Rastafarianism with mainstream American Christianity? It’s less compelling as a musical debate than as a religious one. The band’s one straight-up reggae move, " Ridiculous " (with Eek-A-Mouse on guest vocals), isn’t terrible, but it does feel a little forced. Things get thornier when they invite legendary Bad Brains frontman H.R. along for the hardcore-by-numbers track " Without Jah, Nothin’. " It’s the only real disappointment on the disc, a half-finished Bad Brains ripoff with a yawn-inducing reggae coda. Still, their hearts are in the right place — and in the savage world of new metal, a little righteousness goes a long way.

P.O.D. headline Avalon on Thursday November 1. Call (617) 423-NEXT.