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My husband and a few friends were in Cuba some time ago. Together with local believers, they visited homes in small villages. They were welcomed in by curious Cubans. Over and over, Lee and his team told the "bad news, good news" story of Jesus. (The bad news is that we have all sinned. The good news is that Jesus paid the penalty for sin.)

The Holy Spirit moved in hundreds of Cubans' lives. In one rural village, a young man who had just given his life to Christ went out into the unpaved road in front of his house, waving his arms and yelling to his neighbors. ¡Venido aqui! "Come here!" he shouted. ¡Tengo buenas noticias! "I've got good news!" ¡Usted ti tiene que oir esto! "You've got to hear this!"

In America, we tend to tell our neighbors how thankful we are if we get a great deal on deck furniture or find a big sale on gas grills. We would do well to strip off our sophistication, remember in thanks our own rescue, and get back to the really good news like our brother in Cuba—or that first-century leper whom Jesus healed.

In Jesus' day, leprosy and other skin diseases were cause for terrible fear and shame. Lepers were ostracized and could return to their community only if a priest declared them fit. Old Testament law held that a person "with such an infectious disease must wear torn clothes, let his hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of his face and cry out, 'Unclean! Unclean!' As long as he has the infection he remains unclean. He must live alone; he must live outside the camp" (Lev. 13:45-46).

Unclean! Unclean!

One day about two thousand years ago, Jesus is on the road when ten tattered lepers call to him from afar. They dare not draw nearer.

"Jesus, Master, have pity on us!"

Jesus' heart moves for them. He tells them to go show themselves to the local priest.

Off they go. Faltering but hopeful.

And as they are going, the Scriptures say, they are healed.

The ten stumble along the road, ragged robes flapping.

Bystanders scurry away as they see the lepers coming.

As the men hurry, the dirty rags fall from their faces. I can imagine what happened next.

"Hiram!" shouts one. "Your nose!"

"What do mean, my nose?" says Hiram, bustling along.

"You've got one!"

"Aaugghghh!"

Piling to a stop, slamming into one another like clowns at the circus, they stare at each other's faces, mouths wide open. They unwind the rags from their hands, shouting because they have fingers again. They leap into the air; they land, sure-footed. They strip off their bonds and clap their arms around each other's shoulders, laughing with joy. They can't wait to find their families. They sprint toward town.

But one whirls and turns in the other direction, back toward Jesus. He runs fast with his new feet. Weeping, he falls and kisses Jesus' perfect ones.

"Thank you!" he sobs.

Thank you. Thank you.

Ten were rescued, cleansed, given a brand-new beginning. Yet nine ran the wrong way. Only one ran for homebase, where Jesus was.

Friends of ours have a family mantra. "Be the one!" they tell their kids and each other. "Be the one who thanks Jesus. Let others go where they may. You be the one who is grateful."

Be the one!

Being thankful is not rocket science. Though the topic of gratitude goes as deep as the grace of God, it does not require tough biblical exegesis or advanced degrees to practice. It just requires obedience.

Some believers seem to be looking for life principles that are just a little more spiritually sexy. Be thankful? Oh, of course. But give me something more exciting, more dramatic, something remarkable that I can do to change my life.

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November 2005, Vol. 49, No. 11