Touch the Fringe – 8/17/25

“Touch is far more essential than our other senses,”

Saul Schanberg says.

“It’s ten times stronger than verbal or emotional contact.”

I have no idea if that’s true, and I don’t know how you would definitively determine whether it’s true or not, but it is true that God has given us this sense of touch, which is a big deal from birth to death.

Frederick Sachs writes,

“The first sense to ignite, touch is the last to burn out; long after our eyes betray us, our hands remain faithful to the world. . . . In describing such final departures, we often talk of losing touch.”

Because touch is such a significant way we encounter and relate to our environment, church history is littered with examples of religious touch gone mad. For the sake of time, I’m just going to give you an example from one period, one example from the late Middle Ages of church history.

In Volume VI of Philip Schaff’s History of the Christian Church, he tracks the increased frenzy that developed in Europe during the 15th and 16th centuries over relics. Relics were believed by many to contain spiritual power, so churches and monasteries collected as many as possible.

People took pilgrimages to see, touch, kiss, and prostrate themselves before these relics in order to receive forgiveness, healing, or spiritual insight. They were even beginning to publish guidebooks so that you could know the best relics and how to get to them, kind of like finding Pokémon (ancient form).

I thought it would be a blessing to you, out of all the hundreds and hundreds of relics, to give you my top ten favorite relics from the 1500s. So here they are:

10. the lance that pierced Jesus’ side
9. the bodies of the three magi
8. Jesus’s swaddling cloth (it gets worse)
7. Mary’s undergarment
6. bones of Balaam’s donkey
5. feathers from St. Michael’s wings
4. milk from the Virgin Mary
3. wine from Jesus’s miracle in Cana
2. manna from the wilderness
1. And here’s my number one favorite, get ready: dirt from the field God used to make Adam. Whoa.

Many claim the Reformation was just a big misunderstanding, but often they do not fully grasp how far so many had strayed from the true gospel.

In 1543, John Calvin wrote his “Treatise on Relics.” He discussed the obsession many had with obtaining things of Mary (like her hair, her milk). Then he lists some of the towns that each claim to have a supply, and then he writes this (this is 1543):

“As for her milk, there is probably not a town, a monastery, or a nunnery, where it is not displayed in large or small quantities. In fact, if the Virgin had breast-fed babies her entire life, or been a dairy farm, she could not have produced more milk than they display as hers in various places! How they acquired all this milk they do not say. It is hardly worth adding that there is no basis in the Gospels for such foolish and blasphemous absurdities.”

Calvin wonders how we strayed so far when, for hundreds of years after Jesus was on earth, there is no evidence that Christians collected these things. He writes this,

“I do not know how these things could have been acquired, for it is certain that the apostles and early Christians were not so trivial-minded as to amuse themselves by collecting such things.”

Now, to be fair, the Roman Catholic Church tried to address their relic problem in the Council of Trent. So it would have been: Calvin’s treatise came out in 1543. In 1545 (right after that), the Council of Trent gathered from 1545 to 1563. If you look at their 25th session, they address relics. But in my opinion, they deal with the edges of the problem. They never get to the root of the problem.

Today we know better, right? We would never try to touch things or people in order to get blessings. But then again, in 2015, a man rushed past security and lunged toward the stage to touch Taylor Swift’s ankle. He was immediately healed. Of what, I do not know.

In 2015, a woman lunged onto the stage, then hugged and kissed Adam Levine before he could peel her off and push her away.

In 2024, at the Democratic National Convention, actress Sophia Bush had so many fans touching her, she issued a formal statement: “Please get consent before touching people.” No touch.

Justin Bieber said he’s done posing with people in public.

“It has gotten to the point that people won’t even say hi to me or recognize me as a human. I feel like a zoo animal, and I wanna be able to keep my sanity.”

Some things have changed, some things don’t change.

The text we’ve come to today talks about a very different kind of touch. Matthew 14:34-36 is a small, easily skipped paragraph that is a hinge between chapter 14 and chapter 15 and is loaded with a beautiful vision of the compassion of Christ.

Let’s step back and get the setting, first of all:

“And when they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret” (Matthew 14:34).

Gennesaret is a fairly flat piece of land along the Sea of Galilee (three miles long, one mile wide). Jesus and his disciples landed there and fairly quickly were swarmed by people longing for help.

This short paragraph teaches us three things about Jesus.

Let’s look at number one.

1. Jesus cares about everyone.

Jesus cares about everyone.

“And when the men of that place recognized him, they sent around to all that region and brought to him all who were sick” (Matthew 14:35).

Notice, Jesus is a magnet for messed-up people. Despite just earlier in chapter 14, losing his cousin, John the Baptist… Despite feeding about 20,000 people, and then them trying to force him to be their king, him having to send them away, and then sending the disciples away across the Sea of Galilee, walking on the water, calming the storm— all of this has just happened. He gets to the other side. He’s immediately mobbed. Everybody wants to touch him. Everybody wants something from him, and he patiently, compassionately shows kindness, healing, and helps the needy. That is stunning! Nobody does that.

The word that’s used there at the end of verse 35, the “sick,” is the adverb kakos, which literally could be translated “to have it badly,” to have badly or wrongly or sickly. It includes a wide array of physical, spiritual, psychological, relational badliness, sickness, and brokenness. In the ancient world, not just in Israel, but throughout the ancient world, when you were physically sick, it often led to social exclusion. You were cut off.

Quick example: this week, one of our teams that just returned from Africa was sharing pictures with the staff of a massive cliff that was used by many of the local tribes in throwing babies that were to be discarded off the cliff. The way they determine whether the children should be thrown away is if they have an illness or a developmental disability. They interpret that as “this child must be cursed, and if we don’t remove the curse, it’s going to infect everyone.”

But they also showed pictures of the Christians who were rescuing the children, adopting them, and raising them to show the village that these children are not a curse, they’re a blessing. That every single person, whether sick or healthy, young or old, able or disabled, is made in the image of God and is therefore of inestimable value. That is what Christians believe. Why do we believe that? Because we learned it from Jesus.

Now, we today in America are sophisticated. We don’t throw our children off cliffs. We eliminate them earlier. Same mentality, though. It’s the same barbaric mentality: “This child in the womb has a disability, or is a curse to our family/my lifestyle, so it must be removed.” No. Valuable. Every person. Young, old, healthy, sick. Jesus cares about everyone.

The second thing we see in this passage is that

2. Jesus mingles with anyone.

He mingled with anyone.

“…and implored him that they might only touch the fringe of his garment” (Matthew 14:36).

In our culture, because Jesus has so transformed Western thinking about this kind of thing, it’s hard for us to imagine how scandalous this statement is.

D.A. Carson says the Pharisees and the Essenes would not even walk through a crowded market for fear that they could bump their shoulder into someone who was unclean and therefore become unclean. You don’t touch someone who might be not just physically sick but spiritually contaminating, an ancient form of cooties.

You see the contrast here: Jesus is mingling freely with the sick, the immoral, the outcasts. He mingles freely with them, not to absorb their lifestyle and live immorally, but he’s heading toward the cross (as we see in Matthew). He is actually going to take their sin on himself and die for them, not so that he can live how they live, but so that he can transform them by his life, death, burial, and resurrection. Jesus mingles with anyone. But notice, Jesus mingles with anyone regardless of their motives.

This really struck me, the universality of his mingling because—and I’m assuming this, it’s not stated—you can’t have a crowd of people and not have a variety of motives. There are people who want to be near Jesus because they love him, and they want to follow him, and they want to be transformed by him. And there are people who want to be near Jesus who wouldn’t give a flip for who Jesus is or have any desire to follow him. “I want to get something from him, and as soon as I get what I came to get, I want nothing to do with him. I’m just sick of being sick, tired of being tired. Maybe he can help. I’ve tried everything else.”

This past week in my Bible reading through Isaiah, in chapter 37, the king Sennacherib, the king of Assyria (this is an actual photo of him). His nation, Assyria, was conquering nation after nation. They were unstoppable, and they surrounded Jerusalem. He and his emissaries sent a letter to King Hezekiah, basically saying, “We’re about to wipe you out, but we’re giving you a chance to unconditionally surrender.” King Hezekiah was in a bad spot.

Do you know what it’s like when you have to go to God to pray for help about a problem you helped create? You feel dirty if you don’t pray. You feel dirty if you do pray. It’s that kind of thing. Hezekiah is in that situation. He had tried to create alliances with every other nation around him to protect themselves from Assyria. He wasn’t looking to the Lord. He was looking to everybody else, and none of that helped, and now he’s surrounded, and he’s about to get wiped out, and he has no other alternative. “God, you’re my last option.”

When we get like that, often we tend to pull away, thinking, “I can’t go to God.” But Hezekiah does the right thing. He humbles his heart. He takes the letter that he received from Sennacherib, he goes into the house of the Lord, and he presents it before the Lord. “We have a problem.” He worships God, and he asks for help. And what does God do? Delivers them. Like, the king of Assyria and his army had to flee. True story.

One of the things that struck me— I’m reading along my little journey through Isaiah with a devotional commentary by Alec Motyer. He made an interesting statement about Hezekiah’s prayer. He said,

“The power of prayer does not reside in the place it starts but the place it reaches.”

The power of prayer does not reside in the place it starts, but in the place it reaches.

Remember, Hezekiah was starting in a bad place. He had refused to look to the Lord. He had tried to build alliances rather than looking to God. Many of the people Jesus is encountering, I’m assuming, are starting in a bad place (convoluted motives). “Tried everything else, why not Jesus?”

Some of you may have come in today in a bad place. For whatever reason, you’re here. Maybe you’re not really expecting the Spirit to speak to you. Maybe you’ve had some big failures this week. Maybe you’re just wracked with doubt. Whatever it is, isn’t it beautiful that the power of prayer does not reside in the place it starts but in the place—really, you could say the person—it reaches. That’s the power of prayer.

He’s the power of prayer. You can see the heart of Jesus in this little paragraph. He is not pointing at those people, saying, “Hey, when you get your act together, come back and I’ll do something for you.” He welcomes them! He shows compassion for them, and he’s still doing that today— for you, for me, now, today. He mingles with anyone. He’s not shooing us away because we’re unclean. He’s actually moving near. Draw near to me, I will draw near to you. What a heart of compassion.

As you cry out to him, as his Spirit speaks to you even right now, know it’s not the place you start, it’s the place you reach through the power of prayer. There is no magic in Jesus’s garment as they touch his robe. There’s no magic there. It’s the transforming power of Jesus. And Jesus emphasizes in multiple places that “when my people gather, I’m still mingling among them.”

Let me give you one quick example because we’re going to do this in a few minutes when we sing. What is Jesus doing? In Hebrews 2:12, he tells us. These are the words of Jesus:

“I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise” (Hebrews 2:12).

As we sing, Jesus is among us, singing praise to his Father with his brothers and sisters. Some of us had a good week, some of us had a bad week, some of us feel like failures, some of us may have had a great success. And Jesus is right there with us. Jesus cares about everyone. He mingles with anyone. One more.

3. He is the expected One.

He is the expected One. Look again at verse 36, “…and implored him that they might only touch the fringe of his garment. And as many as touched it were made well.” That has bothered me, bothered me in a good way. I want to understand what’s with the fringe? Why didn’t he just say he touched his sleeve, robe, touched his arm? Fringe. Is there anything significant? In trying to answer this question, I went deep down in a black hole. So we’re going to geek out for a second and do a little word study. You can decide if this is helpful or unhelpful.

The Hebrew word for the Greek word “fringe” here, that’s used in the Old Testament, is the word “kanaph.” It’s translated as edge, fringe, or wings. It can mean literal wings or metaphorical wings. A few examples:

God told the men of Israel in Deuteronomy 22:12,

“You shall make yourself tassels on the four [kanaph, the corners, the four edges] of the garment with which you cover yourself.”

When Samuel confronted Saul for rejecting God’s word, 1 Samuel 15:27 says,

“As Samuel turned to go away, Saul seized the skirt [the kanaph] of his robe, and it tore.”

Skirt doesn’t mean a woman’s skirt. It means the skirt of the robe, the edge, the fringe of the rope, symbolizing the tearing away of the kingdom from Saul.

Similar use, a few chapters later, King Saul was hunting David. David and his men fled to the wilderness of Engedi. Many of us have been to some of these caves. There are tons of caves there. Saul and his army are traveling. He needs a pit stop, so he pulls over and goes into one of the caves where David and some of his men happen to be hiding back in the shadows. David realizes he has an opportunity. 1 Samuel 24:4,

“David arose and stealthily cut off a [kanaph, an edge] of Saul’s robe.”

Psalm 139:7-10 “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take [there it is, the kanaph] the wings of the morning and dwell in the outermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.”

What are “the wings of the morning?” Think of when the sun rises and shoots its rays across the day. It’s like wings, metaphorically. Or you could think of it as the edges of the day – “kanaph.”

Both uses, fringes and wings, appear in the book of Ruth. When Boaz wanted to honor Ruth for her kindness and faithfulness to her mother-in-law, Naomi, he blessed her:

“The Lord repay you for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose [kanaph] wings you have come to take refuge” (Ruth 2:12).

Boaz is saying to Ruth, essentially, you’ve lost your husband, you’ve left your homeland to care for your mother-in-law (Naomi), now you are under the protective care/covering wings of Yahweh, God of Israel.

But then Naomi encouraged Ruth to go to the threshing floor of Boaz, one of Naomi’s relatives, and place herself before Boaz. It was night, and so Boaz said,

“‘Who are you?’ And she answered, ‘I am Ruth, your servant. Spread your [kanaph, your wings, your covering] over your servant, for you are a redeemer” (Ruth 3:9).

There is a massive cultural backstory of kinsmen redeemers that we don’t have the opportunity to go into today, but notice the different ways “kanaph” is translated in this verse:
Spread your wings (ESV).
Or spread your skirt— again, not talking about a woman’s skirt but the edge of your robe (KJV).
Or spread your covering over your servant (NASB).
Or NIV, spread the corner of your garment, the fringes.
Or RSV, spread your cloak.

Why all the differences? All of those are within the semantic domain of the word “kanaph” and depend on context to know what we’re talking about.

With all of this in mind (we’re going to land the plane hopefully very soon), one more example. Last chapter, last book of our Old Testament. God promises, in the coming of the day of the Lord,

“But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its [kanaph] wings” (Malachi 4:2).

For those who fear Yahweh, the coming of the Lord will dawn like a sunrise of healing, as the rays, or wings, or edges of the healing of the sun of righteousness shine on/cover over those who fear the Lord.

We cannot be dogmatic, because some of this is piecing together, but I wonder if the reason Matthew is emphasizing that people are touching his fringes is to take our minds back through all these biblical pictures that are pointing toward this Son of Righteousness coming, the expected One, who will bring healing in his wings, his fringes, skirt, the edges of his robe.

What comes to mind— and by the way, this isn’t brand new with me. Justin Martyr and some of the early church fathers talked about the fact (and this is the point I think we need to get) that fringes here definitely communicate the compassion of Christ. We’ve seen that. That’s the clear message. We have to get that. But it also might communicate that, as people are touching the fringes of Jesus’s garment, Jesus is fulfilling all these pictures, expectations, longings, prophecies of the expected One as the true Messiah who brings healing in his “kanaph.”

Three things about Jesus: number one, he cares about everyone. Number two, he mingles with anyone. And number three, he is the expected One. In order to apply this, let’s wrestle with a couple of questions. You can take these with you.

One is, if Jesus cares about everyone, do you believe he cares for you? I know that may seem simple, but I’ve talked to so many people over the years who, in their head, they know, “I know Jesus cares about everyone. But I’m not sure he cares about me.” Why? Maybe it’s because of feelings, like, “I know he cares about everyone. I don’t feel he cares about me.” Maybe that’s it. Maybe it is abiding shame, maybe it’s past failure.

Whatever it is, I want to exhort you to settle this question:

Are you going to believe what Jesus says in his Word, or are you going to believe the feelings that rise up within you?

All of us have to answer that question because God is saying here very clearly that he’s expressing the heart of Jesus. We see it back earlier in chapter 14, in verse 14, when Jesus saw the hungry crowd (before he fed them). What did he do? “Oh no, these people.” No, his heart was moved with compassion. That’s the heart of Jesus. That’s the heart of Jesus for you.

Second question: If Jesus cares about everyone, is he caring not only for you, but through you?

Through you. I think this is a picture of the entire Christian life. What is the Christian life? Waking up every day, experiencing the fueling favor of God through Christ (swimming in, bathing in, receiving again the energizing smile of God through Jesus), and then getting to spend the rest of the day passing that out.

If we’re not experiencing that/receiving that by faith, we won’t have anything to share. But if we’re receiving it— We’re not cul-de-sacs, we’re called to give it out. When we’re not sure what we’re doing here as Christians, that’s it: love God, love neighbor. He’s pouring into us, we’re passing it along.

Number 3, if Jesus mingles with anyone, does that include you today, even if you haven’t started in a good place? Let’s go back to that quotation: The power of prayer is not in the place you start, but the place it— what? Reaches. Reaches.

I love the patience Jesus showed to Thomas after Jesus rose from the dead. Thomas basically said, “No touch, no faith.” Like, “If I don’t touch the mark in his hand, if I do not put my hand in his side, I am not believing. I’m not going to be gullible.” Eight days later, Jesus shows up in the room, and he doesn’t blow Thomas away. He says, “Thomas, come here. Put your finger in the mark. Touch my side.”

“Then [Jesus] said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

“Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written—” Why do we have Bibles today? Here it is: “…these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in his name” (John 20:27-31).

Let’s pray.

Father, we see your patient compassion with the crowds, with the sick, with people who desperately knew they needed you for whatever reason. You patiently give yourself to them. You patiently transform them. And you are doing the same thing this morning. Thank you for revealing your heart of compassion to us today.

We are asking for grace that we might not pull away or just walk out, but that we may respond to your kind invitation to “Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden, I will give you rest.” For many of us who didn’t even start today in a good place, Lord, we pray that we, by faith, would reach a good place— or really, a good person. We know you will hear us. Hear us as we sing and pray, cry out to you. We thank you in Jesus’s name, amen.