Mark 5:25–34 (WEB)
25 A certain woman, who had an issue of blood for twelve years,
26 and had suffered many things by many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better, but rather grew worse,
27 having heard the things concerning Jesus, came up behind him in the crowd and touched his clothes.
28 For she said, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be made well.”
29 Immediately the flow of her blood was dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.
30 Immediately Jesus, perceiving in himself that the power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”
31 His disciples said to him, “You see the multitude pressing against you, and you say, ‘Who touched me?’”
32 He looked around to see her who had done this thing.
33 But the woman, fearing and trembling, knowing what had been done to her, came and fell down before him and told him all the truth.
34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace and be cured of your disease.”
The question naturally arises: If Jesus is God and knows all things, why would He ask, “Who touched My clothes?” This is a rather stupid thing to say when there’s a large crowed, people pressing in on every side, and countless hands brushing against Him. Even the disciples wondered the same thing. So the questions still remains, why single out one touch?
Scripture shows that God sometimes asks questions not to learn something Himself, but to lead someone else into deeper understanding.
A classic example is God’s very first question to humanity, which appears in Genesis 3, after Adam and Eve have eaten the forbidden fruit. God calls out, “Where are you?” He knows exactly where they are, of course. The question forces Adam to face what has happened. It draws him out of hiding—literally and morally. He has to step into the open and acknowledge his fear and shame. The question isn’t about geography; it’s about awakening the conscience.
Later in the same scene, God asks Eve, “What is this you have done?” This, again, is not an inquiry for information. It is the kind of question that presses someone to name the truth aloud, to confront the weight of her choice.
In Genesis 4:1–15, God asked Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” not because He lacked the answer, but to expose Cain’s guilt, confront his attempt to hide the truth, and bring the moral weight of the situation into the light.
The same principle is at work in Mark 5. The woman with the issue of blood approached Jesus secretly. Her plan was simple: slip through the crowd unnoticed, touch His garment, be healed, and disappear quietly. Her faith was real, but her intent was private.
Jesus had a different purpose for her.
By asking, “Who touched Me?” He brought the entire crowd to a halt. The question created a moment in which the woman had to step forward. Not because Jesus needed her confession, but because she needed to understand the significance of what God had done for her—and because God intended her healing to be a public testimony of His power.
When she came trembling and confessed everything, Jesus affirmed her faith openly. Her healing became a witness to all around her. What she intended to keep hidden, God intended to use for His glory. And her testimony spread: later, in Mark 6:54–56, crowds sought to touch even the hem of His garment, echoing her act of faith.
Jesus’ question was not ignorance—it was invitation. It drew her from secrecy into witness, from fear into peace, and from anonymity into the story of God’s revealed power.
So as a matter of fact, Jesus, having singled out one specific touch, knew exactly who touched Him and at what time, hence why He inverted her secret intentions into a public witnesses of God’s glory.
Another reason is to publicly reveal His fulfilment of Malachi 4:1-6 where the Messiah will have healing in the corners of His garments (see my article on Malachi 4:1-6)