And immediately Jesus, knowing in himself the power that had gone out of him, turning round in the crowd said, Who has touched my clothes?
A sick woman reaches through the crowd, touches the clothes of Jesus, and is healed at once. Two questions follow: what went out of Him, and why did He ask a question He already knew the answer to?
Older English Bibles say "virtue" here, which today sounds like moral goodness. A plainer word is closer to the sense:
In Mark 5:30, instead of "virtue," read "power."
So where did that power sit, and what set it going?
Luke 8:46 and 6:19: it is the power to heal which resided in Christ, and became effective when the touch of faith was there.
Mark says the knowledge rose inside Him, not from anything He saw or was told:
The perfect knowledge of Jesus comes to light. He knew that power had gone out of Him, and that the touch had fallen on His clothes. He asked the question, but He knew the answer; for He looked round to see "her" that had done it.
Power did not leave Him the way water leaves a tap:
He knew that power had gone out of Him. He knew it as He knew the unspoken thoughts of the Pharisees and scribes, and as He knew all things. His service was not a blind, mechanical handing out of merciful power. The power truly went out from Him, but blended with it were love and interest and compassion.
Everyone near Him was in contact with Him. Not every contact was the same:
But Jesus distinguished between the touch of faith and the jostle of idle curiosity. It has been said, "Flesh presses; faith touches." The crowd came to hear or see some new thing, driven by the common craze for novelty… But the woman's touch was of a different order. The contact of her finger expressed a deeply felt need for God's mercy to step in on her behalf. It also expressed her confidence that the mercy she needed was there for her in the person of Jesus. She could find it nowhere else in this sad and disappointing world.
Why did only her touch count?
His question also showed that many had been touching Him in various ways, yet no other touch had drawn any power from Him. Why was this? Because, of all the touches, hers was the only one that sprang out of a consciousness of need, and faith. When these two things are present the touch is always effective.
She had her cure and could have slipped away with it:
Why did the Lord bring about this situation? We can be quite sure it was not to embarrass her but to bless her. Had the Lord simply let her go, she would have felt her act was unauthorised and her healing a stolen blessing. She would also have missed the chance to really meet and get to know her benefactor. The Lord wanted her not only to be healed but to know that He had blessed her, willingly and permanently. He did not want her to go away without hearing His words, "go in peace." Her safety was not to rest on her feelings, but on His word.
There was a further blessing beyond the healing, and confession was the way to it:
It was not that He could not have named her, but that He wanted to give her the opportunity to confess the truth. How little she knew the grace that filled Him! For she came frightened and trembling, aware of what had been done to her. She fell down before Him and told Him all the truth. How little she knew that this was the condition of her better blessing!
A gift received in secret still calls for an answer:
She had received from Him; now she must acknowledge it. In secret she got it; openly she must confess it… Note the accuracy of our writer. "Who was it that touched me?" we read in Luke. "Who touched my garments?" is the question asked in Mark.
- Need — hers was the touch of someone who knew she was helpless. The crowd pressed Him without that, and received nothing.
- Touch — the power lived in Christ, and it acted the moment faith made contact. The power was His, not something in her fingers.
- Power — read "virtue" here as "power." It went out from Him mixed with love and compassion, never as a blind machine.
- Knowledge — He knew inside Himself what had happened. His question was looking for her, not for facts.
- Peace — He would not let her leave feeling she had stolen a blessing. He drew her out to confess, then sent her away resting on His word, not her feelings.
And his disciples said to him, Thou seest the crowd pressing on thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me?
Power has just gone out from Jesus, and He asks who touched His clothes. To the disciples the question makes no sense. In a crowd that size, everyone is touching Him. Their reply shows the gap between standing near Jesus and the one touch He noticed.
One writer answers the disciples by pointing to what Jesus knew.
She is sure she has touched Him, even though it was only the edge of His clothes, because the sense of healing came at once. And He knew He had been touched, and by whom. Yes, Jesus knows whether you have come to Him in simple faith or not... The disciples speak of the crowd, but it is no use. The crowd had pressed around Him but had not "touched" Him; faith alone did that.
The crowd and the woman touched the same person. What set them apart was not nearness but what drove them.
But Jesus distinguished between the touch of faith and the jostle of idle curiosity. Someone has said, "Flesh presses; faith touches." The multitude were there to hear or see some new thing... But the touch of the woman was of a different order. Her finger touching Him expressed a deeply felt need for Jehovah's mercy to step in for her. It also expressed her confidence that this mercy was there for her in the person of Jesus, and nowhere else in this sad and disappointing world.
If He already knew who touched Him, why ask? One writer says the question was for her sake, not for His information.
The disciples, as so often, misunderstood. Peter and the rest talked about the crowds pressing in on Him. But the Lord alone knew in the highest way that a certain one did touch Him; and He looked about to see who had done this. It was not that He could not have named her, but to give her the opportunity to confess the truth.
Her public account served more than herself. It taught the disciples who had just objected.
In this way her confession became a testimony to all the people, and above all to the Lord's disciples. They did not seem to grasp the greatness of His person, and in particular that He knows everything. The Lord's question surprised them. Mark records it as who touched His clothes; Luke records it as who touched Him. They remarked that the crowd was pressing around Him, so people seemed to touch Him all the time.
The same scene repeats wherever crowds gather around the name of Christ. Numbers prove nothing about faith.
A large crowd followed Him and pressed around Him, so it might appear that many believing followers surrounded the Lord. Today it can look the same. We see religious buildings crowded with people who profess to worship Christ... and it seems there is a vast host of believers in Christ. Indeed, men do judge so... But this outward profession of Christianity — joining the crowd to follow Jesus — will not save the soul. It will not settle the question of sins, or of death and judgment.
Getting the cure and hearing Him say so are two different things. The question that puzzled the disciples opened the way to the second.
If the Lord had simply let her go, she would have felt that she had no right to do it, and that her healing was a stolen blessing. She would also have missed the chance to truly meet and get to know her benefactor. The Lord wanted her not only to be healed but to know that He had blessed her, willingly and with lasting effect. He did not want her to leave without hearing His words, "Go in peace." Her safety did not rest on her feelings, but on His word.
Another writer adds why the Lord raised the question at all.
Why these questions, then? Because the Lord loves to confirm faith wherever He finds it. The woman, healed so completely, was about to slip away without any confession of the One whose grace she had tasted.
- Pressing — The crowd pressed against Jesus and received nothing. Being near Him, in body or in religion, is not the same as touching Him.
- Touching — One hand reached out in real need, sure that mercy was in Him alone. That touch brought healing at once.
- Knowing — The question was never a search for information. He could have named her, and He looked round to see her.
- Confessing — He asked so she would say out loud what she had received in secret. The crowd heard it, and so did disciples still learning who He was.
- Peace — The story ends not with the cure but with His words, "Go in peace." Her assurance rests on what He said, not on how she felt.
And he looked round about to see her who had done this.
A woman in the crowd had touched His clothes in secret, and power went out of Him at once. Now Jesus stops and searches the faces around Him for her — though He already knows the answer to His own question.
Mark records the question and the look together, and the two do not sit easily side by side unless we notice how much Jesus already knew. One writer puts the point in a single line:
The perfect knowledge of Jesus comes to light. He knew that power had gone out of Him, and that the touch had fallen on His clothes. He asked the question, but He knew the answer; for He looked round to see "her" that had done it.
The question was not for His sake. It opened a door for her to speak:
The disciples, as so often, misunderstood; and Peter, with the rest, talked of the crowds hemming Him in with their pressure. But the Lord alone knew, in the highest way, that a certain one had touched Him; and He looked about to see who had done this. It was not that He could not have named her, but to give her opportunity to confess the truth. How little she knew the grace that filled Him!
The phrase is not decoration. It is one of this writer's habits of observation, and it carries a consistent weight:
"Looking round" (periblepo) is a characteristic expression of Mark. Only one other New Testament writer uses it, and only once (Luke 6:10). Mark uses it six times, and on all but one occasion it refers to the Lord Himself… The term seems here to imply the intense personal and individual interest the Lord took in those who sat around Him as His disciples.
The crowd pressed on Him from every side. One touch was different, and the difference was not physical:
But Jesus distinguished between the touch of faith and the jostle of idle curiosity. It has been said, "Flesh presses; faith touches." The multitude were there to hear or see some new thing. They were impelled by the common craze for novelty… But the touch of the woman was of a different order. The contact of her finger gave expression to a deeply felt need for the mercy of Jehovah to act on her behalf. It also expressed her confidence that the mercy she needed was available in the person of Jesus. It was available nowhere else in this sad and disappointing world.
The same difference still divides the crowd today:
So it is still today. There are still crowds "pressing" or "thronging." Many come in touch with the Saviour outwardly… But everything turns on one question: does anyone touch Jesus in faith, as the suffering woman in this account did?
She could have gone home healed and silent. That silence would have cost her:
Why did the Lord bring about this situation? We can be quite sure it was not to embarrass her but to bless her. Had the Lord simply let her go, she would have felt that her act was unauthorised and her healing a stolen blessing. She would also have missed the chance to really meet and get to know her benefactor. The Lord wanted her not only to be healed. He wanted her to know that He had blessed her, willingly and with lasting effect… Her safety was not to be based on her feelings, but on His word.
She had to come forward in front of everyone. His face made that possible:
When He looked around to see her, she no doubt saw the tender goodness in His eyes. That encouraged her to fall down before Him and tell Him all the truth, in front of the crowd. This was surely a confession — not only of her need and her blessing, but of His abounding grace.
- He knew. The question and the look were never a search; He knew the answer before He turned, so the pause was for her sake, not His.
- He looked. Mark almost always keeps this word for Jesus. It marks His personal interest in the one person in front of Him.
- He distinguished. A crowd pressed Him; one woman touched Him. Being near Christ is not the same as trusting Him, and that difference still decides everything.
- He waited. Left to slip away, she would have carried a blessing she thought was stolen and never met the One who gave it.
- He blessed. The look drew out her confession, and her confession opened the way to rest on His word instead of her feelings.
But the woman, frightened and trembling, knowing what had taken place in her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth.
A woman healed in secret is called out in front of the crowd. Instead of slipping away she kneels at His feet, shaking, and tells Him everything — so why would the Lord not let her go home quietly?
Her cure taught her one thing about Jesus. Discovery taught her another.
The woman began now to enter upon the second stage of her lesson. She had learned the Saviour's omnipotent mercy; she was now to learn His omniscient love. "She saw she was not hid." In the language of the Psalmist — where could she flee from His Spirit? Adam and Eve under the trees of Eden learned how useless it is to try to hide from the divine eye, and so did Nathanael under the fig tree.
Her fear was not vague nervousness. By the law she counted as unclean, and she had touched a holy person anyway.
She came to the Lord to confess to Him what she had done, and she went "fearing and trembling." For she now knew she had done a bold thing. She feared what would come of it. In the fact that He knew her secret act she had caught a glimpse of the divine majesty of Him whose garment she had touched. And while He was so holy and so mighty, how unworthy was she! Was she not, by the rule of Jehovah's sacred law, a polluted and defiled woman (Lev. 15:19)? … the woman came to Jesus afraid and trembling. She had become the vessel of His power, but she did not yet know the word of His grace — that He was there among the poor of His land to heal and bless and save.
The healing was already complete; she had felt it in her body. But a blessing taken from behind His back was not what He wanted her to leave with.
But even conscious assurance is not enough for the grace of God. She had stolen, as it were, the blessing; she must have it as a free and full gift from the Lord, face to face.
He does not only allow this closeness. He enjoys it.
Then we see that the Lord delights to encourage faith. He is not content that the one who has received the blessing should go quietly away. He brings the believer into His own presence, there to tell Him all the truth. He delights that we should have everything out with Him — that there should be no distance or reserve between Himself and His own.
What she hid in her heart now came out of her mouth in public.
The disciples of Jesus heard her declare "why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed." The confession of her lips thus completed the faith in her heart, in the hearing of everyone present. The Epistles teach the same pairing of faith and confession. It is the twofold requirement from man for his blessing through the gospel: "For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. For the Scripture says, 'Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame'" (Rom. 10:10-11).
Silence has a cost. Telling Him everything has a reward.
Even today He not only forgives wrongdoing, covers sin, and charges no guilt; He also takes deceit out of the spirit. This the healed woman needed; this the Lord gave. … If it is for His glory that everything be clear and confessed, it is also the condition of peace by faith. When someone keeps silent, his bones waste away as he groans all day long. The Lord's hand is heavy on him night and day, until his strength dries up as in summer's drought. But peace comes when a person admits his sin to Him. It cannot come while he hides his guilt. "I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,' and you forgave the iniquity of my sin."
Being helped by someone is not the same as being at home with them.
She knows she is welcome to His service but nothing more. She does not yet know her right to be in His presence. But the Lord trains her heart for this even as He gives healing to her body. He lets her know that she has an interest in Himself, as well as in His power to help her. He calls her "daughter." He owns kinship or relationship with her. This was the one thing that could remove her fear and trembling.
- Hidden. She wanted the cure without the meeting. She came up behind Him and took her blessing unseen.
- Seen. His question showed her she was not hidden. She had learned His mercy; now she learned His love that knows everything.
- Afraid. She trembled because she had grasped His holiness and majesty before she had heard His word of grace.
- Confessed. Faith in the heart became confession with the mouth, and that open confession is the condition of peace.
- Daughter. One word gave her a place, not just a cure — she had a claim on Himself, and the fear and trembling were over.
And he said to her, Daughter, thy faith has healed thee; go in peace, and be well of thy scourge.
The woman was already well before a word passed between her and Jesus. She had touched His clothes in the crowd and felt the change in her body. Yet He stopped, searched the crowd, and would not let her go until she had heard Him speak. Every phrase of His answer to her does a job.
She already had what she came for. So why did He turn round? Not to check the healing, but to deal with how she had taken it.
But even conscious assurance is not enough for the grace of God. She had, as it were, stolen the blessing; she must have it as a free and full gift from the Lord, face to face.
He does the same with everyone He blesses.
Then we see that the Lord delights to encourage faith. He is not content that the one who has received the blessing should go quietly away. He brings the believer into His own presence, there to tell Him all the truth. He delights that we should have everything out with Him — that there should be no distance or reserve between Himself and His own.
His first word to her is not a rebuke. It names a relationship.
And now He reveals Himself to her heart, and fills her soul with the peace and joy of His salvation. "Daughter" — the nearest and dearest of family ties, the tenderest of human bonds. "Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease."
The verb behind "made you well" is the ordinary New Testament word for saving, used here of the body.
It is worth noticing the word sozo. In the New Testament it is usually translated "save." Here it carries its wider sense of deliverance, and all three accounts of this woman's healing use it: Matt. 9:21-22; Mark 5:28, 34; Luke 8:48. It is also used of the restoration of the daughter of Jairus… of the healing of Bartimaeus… of the Samaritan leper. In these places translators render the Greek word "made whole" or "healed."
He credits her faith — but the credit does not rest on the strength of her believing.
Perhaps she was not conscious of her faith, but there it was, and it was right, for it was in Jesus. It is very necessary to see that her faith was in the person of Christ. Very strong faith in a wrong thing will not make the faith right nor the thing right. What gives faith its value is its object.
This sounds like an everyday farewell. One writer argues it carries far more, because of the only other place in the Gospels where Jesus says it.
Our Lord speaks this blessing, "Go in peace," in only one other place in the Gospels. There, as here, it goes with the faith that saved. One woman came to the Lord in Simon the Pharisee's house for the forgiveness of sins. This woman came to Him for help in this life. To both He said, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace" (Luke 7:50). Because of this link we may take these words as more than the ordinary farewell greeting of the East.
The word translated "disease" is stronger than a general term for illness.
Plague is an uncommon word in the New Testament… Mark also uses it twice for the illness of the woman with a discharge of blood (Mark 5:29, 34). The word literally means a scourge. It probably covered the more severe complaints that drove people to seek relief.
This last clause guards her tomorrow, not just her today.
Suppose the Lord had let her go off without what now follows. She never would have had peace. Satan would have followed her and whispered, "Oh yes, it's quite true you are better just now, but your trouble is sure to break out again; you are relieved, not cured." The fear of the plague coming back would have eaten away the joy she rightly had. How gracious the Lord is! He does not want the devil to trick, deceive and distress any soul that has trusted Him. So He speaks words that calm the troubled heart for ever.
He would not leave her resting on feelings, however real.
Like the woman, we can then go on our way, not trusting in our feelings or in some experience, however real, but with the assurance of His own word. So the woman learns from His own lips that she was healed, for He can say, "Your faith has made you well."
- Object, not effort. Her faith may have been barely conscious, yet it rested on Christ — and the object of faith is what gives it value.
- Face, not back. She took the blessing in secret. He called her out so she could hold it as an open gift, with nothing hidden between them.
- Daughter. The word that meets her fear is a family word — He owns the relationship before He confirms the cure.
- Past, present, future. "Your faith has made you well" settles the past. "Go in peace" settles the present. "Be healed of your disease" settles the future.
- His word outlasts her feelings. She felt the healing. She left with His word about it — and His word silences the whisper that it will all come back.