There Are No Small Parts, Only Small Actors, a sermon based on Exodus 2: 1-10 and Romans 12: 1-8, preached on August 23, 2026

There’s a story I love to tell about a group of medical students who were touring the surgery during their residency. A major surgery had just taken place, so the patient as well as the nurses and surgeons had left the room. The only person left was the young woman cleaning up after the surgery. As she was picking up the discarded gauze and sanitizing all the surfaces, the attending physician said, “Good morning, Maria. I’m sorry to interrupt, but these medical students need to know who you are.” Addressing the residents, he continued: “Without Maria, this surgery would be a mess. If she didn’t clean it up after each procedure, disease would spread from one patient to the next. But not only does she clean, she restocks our supplies and makes the lives of all our surgeons easier. You all need to know her name. Remember her name.” Then they went on with the tour, meeting the CEO of the hospital, the other surgeons, the chief nursing officer. Each person the residents met seemed more impressive to them than the one they had met before, yet as the tour wrapped up, the attending physician had just one question. “Tell me the name of the young woman you met who was cleaning up after the surgery.” Do you remember her name? A couple of weeks ago, a man walked into our church. We welcomed him in on a Monday or a Tuesday, and it became quickly obvious that he was wrestling with issues that our church wasn’t prepared to help him with. Talking to himself too loudly, he rushed around the gathering space. He was so agitated that he scared the other people who were in the gathering space with him. Hearing the commotion, Kelley Byrd, one of the women who cleans our church building, rushed to the lobby where he was now shouting, looked him in the eye, calmed him down, and restored peace in our church. You may have seen Kelley, but I ask you to remember her name, and “to think with sober judgement” of all the people we depend on. Do you know their names? Some are easy to recognize for they stand in the spotlight, while others labor away in the shadows, yet I ask you to remember with me this morning that “we, who are many, are one body in Christ. We have gifts that differ,” but all the members are necessary for the hospital to run, each part of the body must play her part. Without each member of the body, there would be no church, and there would be no school. Last Thursday night as I walked around the high school meeting our daughter’s teachers during the school’s open house, I met the man who changes out the ceiling tiles. “How many do you change out a day?” I asked him. “Dozens,” he said, “But I don’t want our students learning in a school that looks second rate. No stained ceiling tiles. That’s me doing my part.” There are no small parts. We see this truth illustrated plainly as the book of Exodus tells the birth story of Moses. Moses becomes the most prominent figure in the first five books of the Bible, yet his life was preserved by two midwives who outsmarted the Pharoah. The Bible remembers their names: Shiphrah and Puah. Then, his brave mother made a boat out of a basket, and as he floated down the river, his sister watched to make sure his little boat didn’t tip over, and when Pharoah’s daughter found the baby, his boat caught in the reeds, Moses’ sister suggested that she go and find a suitable Hebrew midwife, so Moses was raised on his mother’s milk. Without these five women, there would be no Moses. Who are the unsung heroes in your life? Do you remember their names? Last week, I had a skin procedure. I went to be looked over by the dermatologist, who removed two little spots from my skin. One was fine, the other wasn’t, and so I was called back in for what’s called a Mohs procedure. I was talking about Moses, but now I’m talking about Mohs. A Mohs procedure is when the skin surgeon cuts around the area where they found a little something, then looks at that flap of skin under a microscope. If it’s clean, then they stitch you up, if it’s not, then they cut a little more, look at that, and keep going until they’re sure the cancer is gone. It’s awful. It’s not awful. It’s wonderful that this procedure exists, and I’m so thankful the skin surgeon removed the cancer from my skin, but the procedure took a long time, and the scar looks gross. I didn’t know any of that when I scheduled the surgery for 8:30 on a Thursday morning, the same day I had a 2:00 funeral to preach. I asked the medical assistant if I would be done by 2:00. She said, “You might be done, but you’re going to look awful. What were you thinking scheduling this procedure today?” she asked. Then she took me by the hand, walked me out to the front desk, and rescheduled my appointment. Her name is Iesha, and without her, I’d have preached a funeral with a patch over one eye, so today I give thanks for the body of Christ. We can’t make it on our own any more than a pair of eyeballs could thrive without fingers and toes. However, in our society, as in every society since the beginning of human history, some people get all the attention. Some people receive all the praise. Yet those who labor without recognition deserve more than scraps that fall from the table, and those who stand off on the sidelines wondering, “Do they need me?” must step out of the boat and onto the water to play their part. Only too well do I remember being 8 years old and showing up to my first basketball practice at the Lawrence Street Rec. We had just moved to Marietta. My mom was pregnant with my little brother, so we moved here to Marietta to a home with a little more room. In those first few weeks here, there was a lot for my mother and father to do. My little sister had activities of her own, my dad was still moving us into the house, so my mom led me into the Lawrence Street Rec, pointed out my coach on the basketball court, nudged me to go introduce myself to him, then rushed off to do whatever chore needed to be accomplished next. When she came back to pick me up an hour later, I was standing right where she left me. I never introduced myself to the coach. I never even set foot on the court, for not only is it a challenge for us to acknowledge the people who make our lives possible, it can also be difficult for us to imagine that we have a part to play. Paul writes in our second Scripture lesson: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.” Every member of His body has a part to play, and that includes you. All God’s children have a place in the choir. Now, your place might not be in this choir. Our Director of Music and Fine Arts invited me to tour with the choir through Scottland last year, but just as I was imagining myself singing along in the tenor section, he clarified, “I’d like you to go as a narrator.” That’s OK, “for as in one body, we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ.” We have gifts that differ, but no one gift is more important than another, and we cannot be the body without you playing your part. There are no small parts. A human body can get by without an appendix, but our church cannot get by without you. You are a part of the body of Christ. You have music to sing. You have work to do. You have gifts to give. I have a part. You have a part. Get out of the boat. Step onto the court. Lift your voice and sing. All disciples of Jesus Christ are called for a purpose. One of the most beautiful things happened last week at the Pantry on Church. You all know that we have a food distribution on Tuesday, and last Tuesday, our volunteers ended up with a great big truckload of food from Sam’s. But not only was there food on the truck, for some reason or another there were flowers. Well, Scott Suhr took those flowers and handed a small bouquet to every woman who went through our food line. The people who go through our food line are coming for food because they need it, but when they received flowers, some of them burst out and cried. You might say that the food was the main thing in the food line. The flowers were a small part of our food distribution last Tuesday, but there are no small parts. What part will you play? Today in Holland Hall, nearly every group and volunteer opportunity in our church had a table set up for you to volunteer and serve, making a difference, taking part in a Bible study, using your gifts to the glory of God, and I am so thankful because there are no small parts; every member of this body has a purpose. “I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable.” That’s how the Apostle Paul describes you: holy and acceptable. Don’t be self-conscious. Serve the Lord. Lift your voice to sing, giving glory to our Father in heaven by putting the gifts He gave you to good use. Amen.