Ministrey Podcast W/ Trey Van Camp

In Luke 14, Jesus gives us a parable full of paradoxes. In the parable, many are invited to a banquet, but only the outcasts and marginalized show up. The paradoxes are that God’s greatest blessings can also become our greatest barriers, the gospel is both radically exclusive and radically inclusive, and to dine with Jesus is also to die with Jesus. To become good hearers of this parable and receptive to its gospel truth, we too must wrestle with these paradoxes that remind us God’s invitation to His Kingdom is urgent, costly, and worth everything.

The first parable recorded by the three gospel writers Matthew, Mark, and Luke is a parable about seeds. Jesus explains that like a seeds planted among different types of soil by a farmer, the words and teachings from Him are shared among different types of people. Some reject His words and teachings, some don’t allow it to take root, and others give up following the way of Jesus by giving into the worries of this age. But there are a few who hear God’s word, receive it by applying it to their lives, and bear good fruit. These are the people who allow God’s word to confront and convict them, and who reorient their lives in response. In order to be these types of people, we must receive the seeds God generously wants to share with us, and learn to apply them to our daily lives.

Paul had a sense of urgency when it came to sharing the gospel. In 2 Corinthians 5 and 6, he tells us that we will all appear before God one day and give an account of how we lived as witnesses. He also says that our job is to persuade people to believe in the gospel because “today is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2). But today, few of us live with this sense of urgency. Rather than fearing God and His judgement, we fear other people and their opinions. We also write people off as being unlikely to accept the gospel if we were to share, and most of the time, we simply forget to live our lives as witnesses. But witnessing is not an optional practice. Both Paul and Jesus teach us that to be a disciple is to be a witness. When we learn to examine our fears, our flesh, and our forgetfulness, and then bring them to God, we can become effective witnesses who lead others into the Kingdom through the practice of Invitation.

When Paul planted the church in Corinth, his method was simple — preach Christ and Him crucified. Paul was able to clearly and courageously call people to repent and align themselves with the true King, Jesus, and the church in Corinth was born. Our job as witnesses today is the same — preach Christ and Him crucified with courage and clarity. And while courage comes with time, clarity takes effort. Most of us have an incomplete gospel story. We tend to emphasize one part over another, and often miss out on the depth and complexity of what salvation really is. To become effective witnesses who clearly and courageously preach the gospel, we must learn the full gospel story: Jesus has come to rule and reign over the world through His death and resurrection, and anyone can live in the Kingdom here on earth and into eternity if they repent from their sins and align themselves with Him.

As we begin our last practice together, the practice of Witness, we look to Paul’s teaching in 2 Corinthians. Writing to a church in the middle of a diverse and pagan culture, Paul encourages the church there to live their lives in such a way that their alignment with King Jesus is evident. Much like a strong aroma will either draw others in or push them away, Christians should remain so close to God, each other, and the lost that their lives draw those who are willing closer to God. Like the church in Corinth, our Witness practice must start with our with-ness. We must remain so close to God that others find our lives appealing. We must remain so close to each other that we’re able to rely on each other for support. And we must remain so close to the lost that we actually have opportunities to draw them into communion with the God who created them.

n John 17, Jesus prays His final words before the cross—not just for His disciples, but for us. He asks the Father to keep us safe from the evil one, make us holy by His truth, and unify us in love. And in verse 23, we see the breathtaking truth of the gospel: the Father loves us with the same love He has for His perfect Son.

Jesus warned us: if we truly abide in Him, the world won’t celebrate us—it will resist us. In this message from John 15, we explore four ways the world hated Jesus—and still hates His followers today: misunderstanding, misrepresentation, marginalization, and even martyrdom. But we’re not left alone in the resistance—Jesus gives us His Spirit to walk beside us through every fiery trial. Learn how to suffer faithfully, live joyfully, and pray dependently in a culture that misunderstands the way of Jesus.

Instead of rushing past the familiar line “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” we’re invited to slow down and receive it not just as a doctrinal statement, but as a personal proposal from the Groom to His Bride. Don’t pass over the Passover, don’t pass over the proposal, and above all—don’t pass over the Person of Jesus.

Prayer is so important because it allows us to delight in God’s presence, discern His heart, and depend on His power. But prayer is so powerful because it actually directs God’s hand. When we pray, prayer moves our heart and will to align with God’s heart and will. But it also moves God’s hand to directly interfere into the affairs of humanity. And yet few of us actually believe this. Some of us fall into the trap of fatalism, falsely believing God has already set the future and our prayers won’t actually change anything. Others of us fall into the trap of naturalism, falsely believing that prayer is less important than action. But throughout the scriptures, God does change his mind in response to his peoples’ prayers. In Exodus 32, after receiving the 10 Commandments, Moses prays on behalf of the Israelites and God relents. In 2 Kings 6, Elisha prays for the eyes of his servant to be opened to the reality of God’s power through prayer. If you track the theme of prayer throughout the biblical story, one thing

In the middle of teaching on prayer, Jesus tells us to ask, “Give us today our daily bread,” “forgive our sins,” and “deliver us from the evil one” (Matthew 6:11–13). These requests span a spectrum: from the mundane, to the messy, to the monumental. Daily bread reflects ordinary needs we often overlook—food for the day, a safe commute, help with our to-do list. “Forgive our sins” gets messy, confronting our failures and the challenge of forgiving others. “Deliver us” points to overwhelming needs—healing from deep wounds, restored relationships, freedom from bondage. Yet Jesus makes no distinction. Bread, forgiveness, deliverance—all are gifts from a generous Father. If God truly is our Father, He wants us to ask—for small things and big things. Because asking reveals humility. It takes honesty and vulnerability to admit we need help, that we rely on His power. Prayer expresses this dependence. When we bring God the mundane, the messy, and the monumental, He responds. Not always how or when we expect. But Je

If the goal of prayer is to delight in God’s presence and develop deeper communion with Him, few of us want to settle for a one-sided relationship. At some point in our prayer journey, we’ll want to actually hear from Him. This is what Scripture calls discernment. And while prayer is about delighting in our personal relationship with God by sharing our hearts with Him, it’s also about learning His heart for us and for those around us. When we pray to discern God’s heart, we’re asking to know God’s will. But we’re also asking that God would form and shape us into the kinds of people who are actually capable of accomplishing it. This means discerning God’s heart is less about finding the right path when faced with a decision and more about tuning our hearts and desires to God’s heart and desires. This is partly what Jesus means when He tells His disciples to pray, “Your Kingdom come Your will be done…” (Matt. 6:10). Discerning God’s heart is about surrendering our will to God’s. We want His will, not ours, to b

It’s pretty significant that the one time we’re told the disciples ask Jesus to teach them something, they say, “Teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1). After everything they saw Jesus doing—preaching, performing miracles, healing, casting out demons—what caught their attention was the devotion and commitment Jesus seemed to have when it came to prayer. When Jesus answered his disciples’ request, the first thing He told them to do was address God as a Father. “Our Father in heaven…” as the prayer goes. Many of us know it by heart, but this was a radical move on Jesus’ part. In a culture full of both reverence and uncertainty about the divine, Jesus was demonstrating to His disciples a very simple, yet radical truth: God is knowable. He’s not simply “up there” in the clouds, nor is He passively waiting for us to approach Him with the right words, mantra, or sacrifice. God is near, and we can talk to Him the same way a child would talk to their father. The starting point of prayer is delight. We can’t develop the kind o

On Easter Sunday we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. By rising from the dead and walking out of the grave, Jesus defeated the three main enemies of humanity: sin, Satan, and death. It’s good news for all of us, but only if we’re willing to accept it. In Matthew 11, Jesus responds with judgement towards those who consistently reject Him and His miracles. But by the end of the chapter, Jesus extends an invitation for those willing to repent. By laying down our pride and putting our hope in Jesus, we find Him gentle, lowly, and willing to give us rest.

Fickleness might not be one of the seven historically recognized deadly sins, but it is prevalent in our community and it is deadly. All of us shy away from difficult conversations, give up at the first sign of discomfort, and loosen our commitments when we’re inconvenienced. But in the Garden of Gethsemane, just before his crucifixion, Jesus models what faithfulness looks like. By bringing our pain, fears, and discomfort to God in honest prayer, we allow him to hear us and align our hearts with his will. This is how we allow the Spirit to bear the fruit of faithfulness within us.

Of all the deadly sins, envy is one of the most damaging and undetectable. We casually look down on those who are more successful than us, we ignore the bitterness that takes root in our hearts towards others, and we slowly begin to see the people God has called us to live in community with as enemies rather than family members. But as dangerous and elusive as envy is, the gospel gives us a way out. In James 3, James gives practical instructions to those struggling with envy: “if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your heart, don’t boast and deny the truth… the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who cultivate peace.” (Ja. 3:14, 18). We can make space for the Spirit to grow the fruit of Peace in our lives by practicing gratitude and honor. When we give thanks for what we have, we learn contentment. When we choose to honor instead of envy others, we experience peace.

Most of us probably wouldn’t consider ourselves “gluttons.” But when we look at how we spend our free time, how we respond to boredom or hardship, or what we do for “rest,” we likely find ourselves giving into excess and impulse. By definition, this is gluttony: consumption without contentment. To find happiness or satisfaction, we often chase cheap impulses, or what some call “pseudo-joys.” But this problem isn’t new. Jesus calls it out when the crowds followed him after they ate the five thousand loaves and fish that he gave them. “Truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw the signs, but because you ate the loaves and were filled.” Instead Jesus reminds the crowds, and us, that He is the Bread of Life that satisfies our deepest desires. This is the fruit of joy. By practicing both fasting and feasting, we can slowly train ourselves to resist gluttony and instead embrace the true joy that Jesus offers us.

At the top of the list of the Fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5 is love. But as simple and cliché as it sounds, love is one of the most difficult fruits to embody. And what most often prevents us from loving others well is greed. One of the seven deadly sins, and one of the most difficult sins to free ourselves from, greed prevents us from loving others and serving God sacrificially. We express our greed either by hoarding our resources, ignoring those in need, or controlling what we get in return for our generosity. To combat the greed that naturally grows inside of our hearts, we must learn to submit ourselves to the work of the Holy Spirit. By acknowledging our weakness, and by pursuing self-sacrifice, we allow God to grow the fruit of love within us.

One of the sharpest and most consistent criticisms God gives against His people throughout the scriptures is the sin of neglect. As God’s people, the Israelites were chosen as a nation among nations to bring God’s light to a dark world. God’s people were always supposed to care for the poor and marginalized, and to bring the good news of God’s Kingdom to the lost around them. But rather than care for them, they often neglected them. In Isaiah 58, God’s people wonder why their prayers and fasts haven’t been acknowledged by God. God’s response is that they fast in vain; their focus is only on themselves while they neglect those in need around them. Instead, God describes a holy and honoring fast as one that leads to care for their neighbors. When we fast, we have an opportunity to direct our attention and our prayers away from ourselves and toward others. We use our bodies to cry out to God on behalf of those who have needs in our cities, communities, and neighborhoods. In our hunger, we identify with those w

Fasting is hard because it’s a form of self-denial. We suddenly become aware of our weakness, frailty, and imminence. It’s a reminder that our bodies need sustenance to survive, and without food, we’ll eventually die. But just like our bodies need food for life, our souls need God. David knew this well when he fasted and pleaded with God in Psalm 69. As he denies his body food, he learns to confess his needs before God and redirect his trust back towards Him. Like David, we too are powerless to accomplish our deepest desires and weak when it comes to uprooting the deepest sins in our lives. We all have needs that only God can meet — prayers we need answers to, sins we can’t overcome, and decisions we need God’s will revealed for. To help us redirect our trust in God and to confess our needs, we fast.

In Psalm 63 David is a King on the run. His wealth, power, and possessions have all been stripped away and he finds himself in a desert, fleeing for his life while his own son tries to kill him. And yet, in this season of pain, David’s deepest longings are satisfied by God’s presence. Though most of us today won’t experience our lives endangered in a desert, we will find ourselves in seasons of desert pain at some point or another. But unlike David, our impulse to avoid pain prevents us from experiencing satisfaction in God as we often seek comfort in our “cheaper desires.” To help us refocus our attention to God, train ourselves to find true satisfaction, and experience more of our union with Him, we practice fasting.