The Fringe of his Garment (14:34–36)
The ending of chapter 14 is brief and focuses on Jesus’ miraculous healing power. One detail that’s often missed is what Matthew means by “the fringe of his garrment.” We might easily imagine this as some sort of hem, but Matthew’s word, κράσπεδον (kraspedon), can be more specific than “hem.”
It is the same term the Greek Old Testament uses in Numbers 15:38 for the tassels (tzitzit) that every Israelite was commanded to wear on the corners of his garment. These tassels were meant to be something a person could “look at and remember all the commandments of the LORD, and to do them” (Num 15:39).
If this is the case, then Jesus is wearing the tassel that every observant Jew was supposed to wear. When the men of Gennesaret grasp his robe, they are reaching for the specific mark of Torah-keeping and finding there a power the commandment itself never possessed.
It does seem strange that people would reach for the hem of his garment rather than just touch the garment anywhere unless there was something special there, like religious fringe. Given Matthew’s insistence that someone greater than the Law and Moses was here in the person of Jesus Christ, it seems likely to me that Matthew is referring specifically to the tzitzit. What was meant to be a perpetual symbol of Torah observance is now the means through which Jesus’ healing power flows out into the world. What the Torah could not do, Jesus does.
More Than Elisha (14:13–21)
In 2 Kings 4, a man comes to Elisha with twenty loaves of barley bread and some fresh grain. Elisha instructs the man to give the food to the men who are with him (4:42), but a servant objects: “How can I set this before a hundred men?” (4:43a) Elisha repeats the command: “Give them to the men, that they may eat, for thus says the LORD, ‘They shall eat and have some left over’” (4:43b) They ate, and there was food remaining, “according to the word of the LORD” (4:44). The sequence goes like this: insufficient food, a subordinate’s objection, a command to distribute anyway, everyone eats, and food to spare.
A Jewish audience steeped in the scriptures would recognize this pattern immediately while reading the account of the feeding of the five thousand in Matthew’s Gospel.
Matthew places this feeding in an ἔρημος τόπος, a wilderness place, using the term twice within three verses (14:13, 15). The doubling is for emphasis. The crowd is not at the edge of a village; they are in the landscape of the Exodus. When the disciples tell Jesus in the evening that “the place is desolate, and the day is now over; send the crowds away” (14:15), their instinct is the logic of Israel in the wilderness: there is nothing here, so it’s time for the people to go back. Jesus refuses, placing the disciples in the position of Elisha’s servant: “They need not go away; you give them something to eat” (14:16). The objection follows:
“We have only five loaves here and two fish” (14:17).
Twenty loaves for a hundred men was already a stretch. Five loaves and two fish for five thousand men, besides women and children, is a different order of impossibility. Jesus takes the bread, looks to heaven, blesses and breaks it, and gives it to the disciples to distribute. The four verbs (took, blessed, broke, gave) are the same four verbs Matthew will use at the Last Supper (26:26). The feeding in the wilderness and the table in the upper room are linked. Everyone eats. Twelve baskets of broken pieces remain (14:20), and twelve is the number of Israel’s tribes.
The Elisha miracle involved twenty loaves for a hundred people, with some food left over. Jesus uses five loaves for five thousand, and the excess fills twelve baskets. The scale points beyond Elisha altogether. The one who rained manna on Israel in the Sinai wilderness is standing in the wilderness of Galilee, breaking bread and feeding people miraculously.
Little Faith, Great Savior (14:22-33)
Only Matthew records what occurs after Jesus walks on the water toward his terrified disciples. Peter asks:
Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water. (Matt. 14:28, ESV)
Jesus says, “Come,” and Peter steps out of the boat. For a moment, he does the impossible. Then he sees the wind, becomes afraid, begins to sink, and cries out:
Lord, save me. (14:30)
Jesus immediately reaches out and catches him, saying:
O you of little faith, why did you doubt? (14:31)
That phrase—”little faith” (ὀλιγόπιστος, oligopistos)—is uniquely Matthean. It appears five times in this Gospel and nowhere else in the New Testament. It shows up when the disciples worry about food and clothing (6:30), when they fear the storm despite Jesus being in the boat (8:26), here when Peter sinks, and when they worry about bread after Jesus has fed thousands (16:8).
These texts reveal something important. “Little faith” in this Gospel is not intellectual doubt about who Jesus is. It is anxiety and fear in the face of circumstances when Jesus has already demonstrated his power and presence. Peter does not doubt that Jesus can walk on water—he has just seen him do it. Peter doubts whether Jesus’ power extends to him in the wind and waves. Little faith trusts Jesus in theory but struggles to trust him in the storm.
Yet notice what saves Peter. He does not overcome his doubt, strengthen his faith, or calm himself down. He simply cries out, “Lord, save me”—three words in Greek (κύριε, σῶσόν με, kyrie, sōson me). No preamble, no bargaining, no theological precision, no eloquence. Just a desperate cry to the one who can save.
And Jesus responds immediately. He does not wait for Peter to manufacture more faith or compose a better prayer. He reaches out his hand while Peter is still sinking, still doubting, and still afraid. Little faith is enough when it calls out to the right Savior.
Maybe this explains why Matthew includes this story when Mark does not. Ancient tradition says Mark recorded Peter’s preaching, yet Peter apparently did not share this story about himself. Matthew includes it, showing that even an apostle’s faith can be small and wavering—and that even small, wavering faith that calls out to Jesus is met with his immediate saving grace.
The Christian life is not about having perfect faith. It is about knowing whom to cry out to when we sink.
This is a word from God for me that I needed. Thank you.
This is very encouraging. Thank you.