The Edge of His Cloak: Mark 6:53-56

They landed at Gennesaret, and before Jesus could even step from the boat, recognition rippled through the shoreline. Within minutes, people were running—not to greet him, but to collect their sick.

They carried them on mats from every direction. Wherever Jesus went—villages, towns, countryside—the marketplaces filled with the broken and bleeding. They begged for one thing: permission to touch the edge of his cloak.

The word had spread about the woman who had been healed after twelve years of hemorrhage. She had touched only the fringe of his garment and been made whole. Now everyone wanted what she had found.

And all who touched him were healed.

Mark compresses what must have been days of ministry into a single breathless paragraph. The image is almost overwhelming: mats laid out in market squares, hands reaching toward Jesus as he passed, disease fleeing at the brush of fabric. An assembly line of miracles. A flood of mercy.

He kept walking. They kept reaching. And no one who touched him went away unchanged.