Trey VanCamp Teachings Podcast

We're Not Just Building a Building Ten years is a long time to wonder about something. For most of our church's life, the question of a permanent home has hovered in the background. And honestly, looking back, I think the timing matters. We needed all of this time, all of these years of being formed by Jesus together, before we were ready to take meaningful steps toward building something permanent. God has been building us peace by piece. Now we get to build with him. But before we talk about what we're building, we need to talk about why. We're Living the Same Story The books of Ezra and Nehemiah sit near the end of the Old Testament, and they tell a story that feels surprisingly familiar. Israel has spent years in exile, displaced from their homeland by the Babylonian empire. The temple, the place where God's presence dwelled among his people, has been destroyed. The city walls are rubble. But God makes a promise: they'll return. They'll rebuild. And God will come to dwell with his people again. That's not just their story. It's ours. Even here in our city, the simple and sacrificial way of Jesus runs directly against the grain of the self-centered, power-driven culture around us. We are, in a very real sense, a people planted in hostile soil. And like Israel, we have a choice: assimilate to the culture, retreat from it, or build. We're choosing to build. The New Testament makes clear that God's people are now his temple. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians that the Spirit of God lives in us. Peter describes the church as "living stones" being built into a spiritual house. The presence of God that Moses encountered on the mountain, that the temple was meant to contain, that Ezra and Nehemiah longed to restore, is here when we gather together for worship, fellowship, and service. What we're building isn't just a building. It's a place of encounter. Two Prophets, Two Challenges While Israel was rebuilding, God sent two prophets to keep them on track: Haggai and Zechariah. They had different styles, but the same mission. Haggai was blunt. He looked at God's people focused on their own comfortable houses while the temple sat unfinished, and he called it what it was: misplaced priorities. The question he puts to them is the same one worth sitting with today. What am I actually using my life to build? Is it purely for my own comfort and security, or am I leveraging it for something larger? Zechariah was a visionary. Where Haggai shook people up, Zechariah lifted their eyes. His message was simple: this is not a small thing. "Not by strength or by might, but by my Spirit," says the Lord. Don't despise the day of small things. Keep pressing on. We need both voices. The challenge to get our priorities right, and the vision to remember why it matters. What a Building Makes Possible A permanent home isn't the goal. But it opens doors that a portable church setup can't. It means space for teaching, not just on Sundays but through workshops on theology, marriage, and parenting, and potentially a K-6 Christian academy where kids are shaped by scripture every day. It means real hospitality, a space where the loneliness and disconnection so many people in our city carry can be met with genuine community. It means margin, the ability to actually practice Sabbath and linger in worship instead of watching the clock because we have to tear everything down. It means moments: salvations, weddings, breakthroughs. And it means marathons: the sacred weekly rhythms that form people over decades and get passed down to their grandchildren. The Next Steps Over the next several weeks, we're inviting our church into this initiative together. Our goal is 100% participation, because the whole body moving together matters more than the size of any individual contribution. We have a two-year financial goal of $2.5 million, which covers both our ongoing ministry operations and meaningful steps toward building at our future site. And we're doing it through a single unified fund, so no one has to choose between supporting what exists today and building what comes tomorrow. Commitment Day is May 17th. Between now and then, the invitation isn't to give. It's to pray and ask God what participation looks like for you. We aren't building a name for ourselves. We're trying to make space for God to dwell here, peace by piece.

The story we’ve been told about life isn’t working. Most of us have placed our hope in ourselves, believing that peace, happiness, and freedom come from looking inward. But this has left us more anxious, less hopeful, and still hungry for meaning. But on Easter, we orient ourselves around a better story. In John 20 we see Jesus meeting three groups of people who represent many of us today. To those grieving, Jesus comes to us as a Gardener making all things new. To the fearful, he is a Peacemaker coming to offer us peace. To the doubting, he is a Pursuer who comes to make himself known. Because of the resurrection, we’re given peace, purpose, and power through the Holy Spirit. Easter is a celebration of the truth that the empty tomb is good news, both for our real lives today, and into eternity.

First ever message on our church property.

In Ephesians 6, Paul describes the armor of God and tells believers to take up “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” When Jesus faces off with the devil in the wilderness, he uses Scripture as his main defense. Each temptation from the devil was met with a specific truth from God’s Word. In the same way, we too are called to apply Scripture specifically to our lives in order to combat the deceptions, accusations, resistance, and temptations from the enemy. The more we saturate our minds with Scripture, the more the Holy Spirit brings specific verses, promises, or truths to our minds in the moments we need them most.

In order to be formed by Scripture, we must learn to submit to its authority. In Psalm 119, the Psalmist describes God’s Word as a lamp, something that illuminates just enough for us to take one small step of obedience to Jesus at a time. This means that Scripture can’t simply be read, it must be obeyed. If our attitudes, actions, behaviors, and beliefs are never redirected by the Bible, then we aren’t treating it like a lamp unto our feet. But by ruthlessly assessing the darkness in the world and our own hearts, and by radically accepting the light of God’s Word, we can slowly practice submitting to Scripture and obeying it as truth.

The Christian life is not defined by a single powerful moment. Instead, Scripture shows us that formation happens through both moments and marathons. In Acts 19, the church in Ephesus experienced a defining moment where God moved powerfully to save its people and bring revival to the city. But years later, Paul wrote Ephesians to guide them through the long obedience of faithful discipleship. Eventually, Jesus Himself addressed this church in Revelation, warning that perseverance without love leads to drift. The invitation of the gospel is not to grit our teeth through the race, but to keep falling in love with Jesus. To do this we must learn to guard our hearts, walk in community, practice faithfulness, and rely on the Holy Spirit to form us peace by piece over the long haul.

All of us want peace, transformation, and a life that reflects Jesus. But becoming like God is not something we can accomplish on our own strength. Paul reminds us in Ephesians that transformation is only possible through the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is not a force but a person who dwells within us. We can grieve Him through our words and relationships, even while remaining secure in our salvation, sealed by His presence. And while those who follow Jesus already have the Spirit within them, we are continually invited to be filled by Him through repentance and surrender. As we walk together in worship, gratitude, mutual submission, and love, the Spirit forms us, peace by piece, into the likeness of Christ.

It’s no secret that America is experiencing a loneliness epidemic. Though most of us are surrounded by people, digitally connected, and relationally busy, few of us have actually experienced the deep and life-giving reality of authentic community. In Ephesians 4, Paul paints a picture of what Christian community can look like. Rather than giving us model, brand, or method, Paul describes community as a body. Just like a body, each person within a community has a part to play in supporting those around them. But also like a body, if one person is unhealthy and unwilling to change, the rest of the community can get infected. Lying, anger, stealing, foul language, and bitterness can cause damage to the communities we find ourselves in. Because of this, true community is a risk. But it’s also the way in which we can grow more like Christ, accept his love, and share that love with those around us.

This week in the Peace by Piece series, we explore Ephesians 4:1, focusing on the crucial role of teaching in Christian formation. Many of us are shaped by ideas and images that subtly pull us away from God’s truth. True transformation doesn’t happen through quick fixes or isolated frameworks, but through a holistic, patient process of engaging with the essentials: Teaching, Community, Practice, Holy Spirit, and Moments & Marathons. This process requires confronting the lies we believe, renewing our minds with Scripture, and allowing God to form us piece by piece over time. As we grow in this grace, we begin to embody the peace of Christ in a chaotic world.

In a cultural moment marked by anxiety, reaction, and fragmentation, the church is tempted to respond as either a consumer or a crusader. Drawing from Ephesians 3–4, this message invites Passion Creek into a new imagination—one rooted not in speed, technique, or outrage, but in formation. Becoming Peace by Piece names the slow, patient work of God in forming a people who are not tossed to and fro, but who grow into maturity measured by Christ’s fullness. Peace is not something we manufacture by willpower, nor something we passively receive—it is something done for us in Christ and formed in us over time as we guard our hearts and walk together under His easy yoke.

In this message from 1 John 4, we look at Christmas through the eyes of the Apostle John near the end of his life. After decades of ministry, suffering, and loss, John doesn’t offer advice for fear—he offers good news: God is love. This teaching explores: Why fear doesn’t just live in our thoughts, but in our nervous system How God’s love takes the initiative long before we do What “perfect love” actually means—and how it casts out fear Why the opposite of love isn’t hate, but fear How the incarnation of Jesus is God’s answer to human anxiety Rather than calling us to be braver, Christmas invites us to receive love more fully—a love that is sacrificial, unconditional, and strong enough to heal even our deepest fears. If fear has shaped your expectations, habits, or faith, this message is an invitation to step further into the love of God—and to discover the freedom that comes with it. “There is no fear in love. Instead, perfect love drives out fear.” — 1 John 4:18

In Matthew 20 Jesus tells a parable about a master who rewards his workers based on grace, not their merit. In the parable, Jesus explains that God gives grace out of his goodness, not our productivity. Most of us struggle with this truth today. While we’re grateful for God’s mercy extended to us, we can grow bitter when God gives mercy, providence, and blessings to those we don’t think deserve it. But this comparison keeps us from experiencing joy from God’s grace towards us. To avoid becoming bitter with God’s generosity towards others, we practice contentment.

In Matthew 18:21–35, Jesus tells a parable that exposes the danger of harboring unforgiveness. In the story, a servant is forgiven for his great debt by a king, but then refuses to forgive others who owe him a great debt as well. Jesus uses this parable to show that unforgiveness is poison to our souls. It hardens our hearts against others, turns wounds into bitterness, and bitterness into bondage. But forgiveness is freedom. Jesus invites us to forgive not merely for our hearts, but from our hearts and ultimately to our hearts—receiving His forgiveness so deeply that it transforms the way we see and treat others.