What It Really Means to Follow Jesus
There is a moment in the Gospel of Mark that is easy to read past. In chapter 6, verses 53 through 56, Jesus arrives at Gennesaret on the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Word has spread about him. People recognize him immediately. They run through the entire region, carrying the sick on mats, rushing to wherever they hear he might be. In the marketplaces, they beg him to let the sick touch even the fringe of his robe. And everyone who touches it is healed.
It is a breathtaking scene. It is also a deeply uncomfortable one, if you sit with it long enough.
Mark never tells us what happened to those people afterward. He does not say whether they followed Jesus, whether they listened to his teaching, whether they gave their lives to him. He simply reports that they were healed and moves on. The question hangs in the air, unanswered: did they come to know Jesus, or did they simply enjoy what he could do for them?
That question is the heart of everything worth thinking about here.
The Fringe and What It Meant
To understand why people were reaching for the fringe of Jesus' garment, you have to understand the Old Testament background. In Numbers chapter 15, God commanded Israelite men to attach tassels, called tzitzit, to the corners of their garments. These tassels were a constant visual reminder of God's love and of the way of life his people were called to live. The Hebrew word for corners, kanaf, is the same word used for wings or edges.
In Malachi, the prophet declares that the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings, in its kanaf, on the edges. The people of Israel understood this to mean that when the Messiah came, healing power would flow from the fringes of his garment. So when Jesus walked through Gennesaret, the people were not acting out of superstition. They were acting out of scripture. They believed he was the Messiah, and they believed healing lived in the edges of his prayer shawl.
And they were right. Everyone who touched him was healed.
But Jesus came to offer something far greater than the fringe.
The Tension We All Feel
Here is the honest tension that most of us would rather not name: it is entirely possible to experience the power of Jesus without ever truly following him. It is possible to receive answered prayers, to feel peace in a moment of crisis, to be on the receiving end of genuine grace, and still never move beyond reaching for the fringe.
The question worth sitting with is this: do you want the blessing more than the blesser?
That is not a question designed to produce guilt. It is a question designed to produce honesty. Because there is nothing wrong with bringing your needs to Jesus. There is nothing wrong with desiring his blessing, his healing, his peace, his assurance. God is genuinely generous. He delights in his people. He gives not because we have earned his favor but because he is gracious by nature.
But a life built only on what Jesus can do for you is a fragile life. Benefits can attract you, but they cannot sustain you. The moment the healing does not come, the moment the prayer seems to go unanswered, the moment following Jesus costs you something, a faith built only on fringe benefits begins to crack.
Motivation Versus Transformation
There is a difference between external motivation and internal transformation, and it matters enormously in the life of faith.
External motivation depends on circumstances. It depends on results. It asks, what am I getting out of this? Internal motivation runs deeper. It comes from a commitment that does not require constant reward to keep moving forward. But even internal motivation has its limits. Willpower and determination, no matter how strong, will eventually run dry.
This is where the gospel offers something that no amount of personal resolve can manufacture. In Philippians chapter 2, verse 13, the apostle Paul writes that God is working in his people, giving them both the desire and the power to do what pleases him. This is not motivation from the outside. It is not even motivation from within. It is transformation. God himself, working from the inside out, reshaping desires, renewing the will, producing something that human effort alone could never sustain.
The question shifts. It moves from what can Jesus do for me to what is Jesus doing in me.
The Saints Who Kept Running
In Hebrews chapter 12, verses 1 and 2, the writer describes a great cloud of witnesses surrounding those who are still running the race of faith. He urges his readers to strip off every weight that slows them down and to run with endurance, keeping their eyes fixed on Jesus, the one who initiates and perfects faith.
The people we call saints did not earn that name through perfection. They were not people whose lives were easy or whose every prayer was answered on their timeline. They were people who kept following Jesus through difficulty, through uncertainty, through seasons when the fringe benefits were nowhere to be found. They persevered not because they had more willpower than everyone else, but because they stayed connected to the one who is the source of all endurance.
Following Jesus has never been about perfection. It has always been about relationship. A relationship made possible not by anything we bring to it, but by the grace of the one who initiated it.
An Invitation Beyond the Fringe
The people at Gennesaret reached for the edge of a garment, believing that touching Jesus could change their lives. And it did. But Jesus extends a deeper invitation than that. He does not simply offer something he can do for you. He offers himself.
That changes everything. Because when you receive not just the blessing but the blesser, you receive the one who does not merely want to change your circumstances. He wants to change your life.
There is nothing wrong with coming to Jesus with exactly what you need. Just do not miss the opportunity to become who he created you to be.
It is a breathtaking scene. It is also a deeply uncomfortable one, if you sit with it long enough.
Mark never tells us what happened to those people afterward. He does not say whether they followed Jesus, whether they listened to his teaching, whether they gave their lives to him. He simply reports that they were healed and moves on. The question hangs in the air, unanswered: did they come to know Jesus, or did they simply enjoy what he could do for them?
That question is the heart of everything worth thinking about here.
The Fringe and What It Meant
To understand why people were reaching for the fringe of Jesus' garment, you have to understand the Old Testament background. In Numbers chapter 15, God commanded Israelite men to attach tassels, called tzitzit, to the corners of their garments. These tassels were a constant visual reminder of God's love and of the way of life his people were called to live. The Hebrew word for corners, kanaf, is the same word used for wings or edges.
In Malachi, the prophet declares that the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings, in its kanaf, on the edges. The people of Israel understood this to mean that when the Messiah came, healing power would flow from the fringes of his garment. So when Jesus walked through Gennesaret, the people were not acting out of superstition. They were acting out of scripture. They believed he was the Messiah, and they believed healing lived in the edges of his prayer shawl.
And they were right. Everyone who touched him was healed.
But Jesus came to offer something far greater than the fringe.
The Tension We All Feel
Here is the honest tension that most of us would rather not name: it is entirely possible to experience the power of Jesus without ever truly following him. It is possible to receive answered prayers, to feel peace in a moment of crisis, to be on the receiving end of genuine grace, and still never move beyond reaching for the fringe.
The question worth sitting with is this: do you want the blessing more than the blesser?
That is not a question designed to produce guilt. It is a question designed to produce honesty. Because there is nothing wrong with bringing your needs to Jesus. There is nothing wrong with desiring his blessing, his healing, his peace, his assurance. God is genuinely generous. He delights in his people. He gives not because we have earned his favor but because he is gracious by nature.
But a life built only on what Jesus can do for you is a fragile life. Benefits can attract you, but they cannot sustain you. The moment the healing does not come, the moment the prayer seems to go unanswered, the moment following Jesus costs you something, a faith built only on fringe benefits begins to crack.
Motivation Versus Transformation
There is a difference between external motivation and internal transformation, and it matters enormously in the life of faith.
External motivation depends on circumstances. It depends on results. It asks, what am I getting out of this? Internal motivation runs deeper. It comes from a commitment that does not require constant reward to keep moving forward. But even internal motivation has its limits. Willpower and determination, no matter how strong, will eventually run dry.
This is where the gospel offers something that no amount of personal resolve can manufacture. In Philippians chapter 2, verse 13, the apostle Paul writes that God is working in his people, giving them both the desire and the power to do what pleases him. This is not motivation from the outside. It is not even motivation from within. It is transformation. God himself, working from the inside out, reshaping desires, renewing the will, producing something that human effort alone could never sustain.
The question shifts. It moves from what can Jesus do for me to what is Jesus doing in me.
The Saints Who Kept Running
In Hebrews chapter 12, verses 1 and 2, the writer describes a great cloud of witnesses surrounding those who are still running the race of faith. He urges his readers to strip off every weight that slows them down and to run with endurance, keeping their eyes fixed on Jesus, the one who initiates and perfects faith.
The people we call saints did not earn that name through perfection. They were not people whose lives were easy or whose every prayer was answered on their timeline. They were people who kept following Jesus through difficulty, through uncertainty, through seasons when the fringe benefits were nowhere to be found. They persevered not because they had more willpower than everyone else, but because they stayed connected to the one who is the source of all endurance.
Following Jesus has never been about perfection. It has always been about relationship. A relationship made possible not by anything we bring to it, but by the grace of the one who initiated it.
An Invitation Beyond the Fringe
The people at Gennesaret reached for the edge of a garment, believing that touching Jesus could change their lives. And it did. But Jesus extends a deeper invitation than that. He does not simply offer something he can do for you. He offers himself.
That changes everything. Because when you receive not just the blessing but the blesser, you receive the one who does not merely want to change your circumstances. He wants to change your life.
There is nothing wrong with coming to Jesus with exactly what you need. Just do not miss the opportunity to become who he created you to be.