How now, Palau?

First a sign appeared in a church parking lot at 19th and X streets that depicted a sassy old guy in a fleece pullover who apparently had the name Luis Palau. The sign offered no details about the man, just the vague phrase “Sacramento Festival” and the dates of its occurrence.

Then billboards featuring the same image as well as yard signs that blanketed the lawns of the city—sometimes against the homeowner’s wishes.

Then another mysterious billboard appeared on the Yolo Causeway, this one featuring a motocross dude flying through the air.

Wait, what was this thing supposed to be again?

Eventually, I learn it’s some kind of religious revival. Intrigued, I decided to attend. Besides, it’s free.

I arrive at Cal Expo on Saturday afternoon; the sun is already beating down as I head toward a crowd clustered around a fenced-in arena. There, an extremely handsome skater is pacing atop a skate ramp, testifying to the power of Jesus.

The skater, part of the King of Kings Skateboard Ministry, shares his personal journey, and then calls out for those in need of help to come up and pray with him. A couple of hundred people file up to the stage—including quite a few little skate rats who probably just want to be in closer proximity to a pro.

Confused about the connection between skating and Christ, I venture over to a small white tent bearing a “SkateChurch” sign and inquire within. Here, a nice lady explains that “skaters are a marginalized group, they get kicked out everywhere. … Jesus reached out to the marginalized. … It’s skaters reaching out to other skaters.”

Elsewhere, no one in the crowd seems to have heard Palau preach before, but when I ask one attendee why the evangelical leader brought his festival here, he offers a theory.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about that. Sacramento is the intersection of two trails from the frontier days,” the man says. “It was the head of the spirit that pulled people west. There was also that meteor recently; people had visions, and some think that Luis Palau was that meteor.”

Later, a buoyant announcer for a motocross event calls for music and a mash up featuring Willow Smith’s song “Whip My Hair” starts to pump out of the speakers, underscored by the sound of engines revving. I watch for a while as rider after rider executes insane flips and twists, some trailing their bikes high in the air only to grab the seat and remount at the last second. The words, “Jesus Christ!” issue from my lips, although probably not in the proper spirit.

By this point, I’m succumbing to the heat. A woman urges me to stick around for the main event and even offers to loan me her umbrella, but I fear I’m going to end up in one of the many ambulances scattered around the field if I don’t get back into air conditioning. As I walk back to my car, I hear the crowd ooh and ahh at the riders, and the announcer exclaims, “It’s getting gnarly out here!”

Gnarly for Christ.