Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

July 12, 2026

Sir Edmund Hillary was the first man to climb Mount Everest. On May 29, 1953, he scaled the highest mountain then known to man—29,000 feet straight up. He was knighted for his efforts. He even made American Express card commercials because of it! However, until we read his book, High Adventure, we don’t understand that Hillary had to grow into this success. You see, in 1952 he started up Mount Everest on his first attempt and failed. A few weeks later a group in England asked him to address its members. Hillary walked on the stage to thunderous applause. The audience was recognizing an attempt at greatness, but Edmund Hillary saw himself as a failure. He moved away from the microphone and walked to the edge of the platform. He made a fist and pointed at a picture of the mountain. He said in a loud voice, “Mount Everest, you beat me the first time, but I’ll beat you the next time because you’ve grown all you are going to grow…but I’m still growing.

In today’s gospel Jesus invites his listeners to consider how well they are growing. Evidently, he has noticed that the response to his teaching varies, and he struggles to understand why that is. Why do some people, like Peter and Andrew, James and John, immediately drop everything, give up their former way of life, and follow him? Why do others make excuses? Why do some find him exciting and refreshing, but just can’t do anything about it?

Jesus thus offers this parable, setting up some broad categories of typical responses. Some hear, but do not really understand. Perhaps they are ashamed to ask questions or seek clarification. Others respond in a shallow sort of way, without much real commitment. They may be enthusiastic at first, but it just doesn’t last, and they fall away. Still others may find Jesus’ message attractive, but find that he’s simply asking too much. They can’t give up something that has a hold on them, such as material possessions, wanting to fit in with people they consider important, but they’re not the religious type. And sometimes it’s just being comfortable with who you are, and not wanting to change.

But I like to think that we’re like the final group, that we have rich spiritual soil for the message to grow in, that we still have some growth in us, that we can still be enthusiastic, that we’re neither bored or stuck in place when it comes to our faith.

Some years ago, I invited someone from Washington state to give a talk here in our diocese. However, I gave him a warning. He loved to call us New Englanders the “Frozen Chosen”—cold, lifeless, unenthusiastic, stuck in our ways. I told him that, if he called us that, I wouldn’t pay him. But I’ve never forgotten that label he tried to put on us. And I use it as a kind of examination of conscience. When it comes to my faith, am I still growing, still enthusiastic about it—or am I cold, lifeless, and just plain stuck?

I offer that to you for reflection this week. Are you still growing, still bearing fruit, or frozen chosen, just going through the motions?