Matthew 8

The Sermon on the Mount ended with the crowds astonished at his doctrine: for he taught them as one having authority (Matt. 7:28-29). Now Matthew shows that the authority is not only in His words. When he was come down from the mountain, great multitudes followed him (v. 1), and the first thing that happens is a leper kneeling in the road. The man's words are a model of faith and humility at once: Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean (v. 2). He does not doubt the power; he submits to the will. And Jesus, instead of recoiling from a man the law required everyone to avoid, put forth his hand, and touched him, saying, I will; be thou clean (v. 3). The leprosy is gone immediately.¹

What follows is a gathering of scenes that press the same question from every side. A Gentile centurion asks for healing at a distance and is commended for a faith greater than any in Israel; Peter's mother-in-law is raised from a fever with a touch; at evening the sick of a whole town are healed, and Matthew stops to tell us what it means - Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses (v. 17), the words of Isaiah's suffering Servant. Two would-be followers learn what the road costs. Then a storm is stilled at a word, and two men tormented by unclean spirits are set free across the lake.²

Read together, the chapter is less a list of healings than a single sustained answer to the cry of the terrified disciples in the boat: What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him! (v. 27). Disease obeys Him. Distance is no barrier to Him. The storm falls silent at His rebuke. The unclean spirits know His name and beg not to be tormented. Behind every scene stands one authority, and Matthew means for the reader to keep asking, with the men in the boat, who this could possibly be - and to follow the answer all the way to the cross, where the One who bore the sicknesses of a town would bear the deeper sickness of the world.

Tap any highlighted phrase to jump to the commentary that unpacks it.

Matthew 8:1-13I Will; Be Thou Clean

1When he was come down from the mountain, great multitudes followed him. 2And, behold, there came a leper and worshipped him, saying, Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean. 3And Jesus put forth his hand, and touched him, saying, I will; be thou clean. And immediately his leprosy was cleansed. 4And Jesus saith unto him, See thou tell no man; but go thy way, shew thyself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them.

The man who kneels before Jesus carries the most isolating affliction his world knew. Under the law a leper was ceremonially unclean, put outside the camp, required to cover his lip and cry Unclean, unclean so that everyone would keep their distance (Lev. 13:45-46³). He had likely not been touched by another human being in years. And his approach is a small masterpiece of faith. He does not presume; he does not demand. He says, Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean (v. 2). The power he takes for granted - thou canst; it is only the will he leaves in Jesus' hands - if thou wilt. This is the shape of true prayer: full confidence in what God is able to do, joined to full surrender to what God chooses to do. He asks not merely to be cured of a disease but to be made clean - restored, brought back inside, fit again for the community and the worship he has been cut off from.

The astonishing thing is the first thing Jesus does. He could have healed with a word from across the road, as He will do for the centurion's servant a few verses later. Instead He put forth his hand, and touched him (v. 3). To touch a leper was, under the law, to contract his uncleanness; the flow ran one way, from the unclean to the clean. But here the flow is reversed. Jesus is not defiled by the touch; the leper is cleansed by it. Holiness proves stronger than corruption, life stronger than the disease. And the touch itself preaches before the cure does: to a man no one had touched in years, the very contact is a word of grace, telling him he is not beyond reach. Then comes the word that matches the leper's own - the man had said if thou wilt, and Jesus answers I will; be thou clean. The cure is not gradual. Immediately his leprosy was cleansed.

Jesus then sends the healed man to do exactly what the law requires: shew thyself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them (v. 4). The law of Leviticus 14 laid out a careful rite by which a cleansed leper was examined by the priest and formally readmitted to the community. Jesus does not bypass it; He honors it. The man must be declared clean by the proper authority and restored in the proper way. And the offering is to stand for a testimony unto them - a witness to the priests themselves that something had happened among them that only God could do. The command to tell no man meanwhile guards against the wrong kind of fame; Jesus will not be made into a wonder-worker mobbed for spectacle. The healing is real and complete, but it is meant to point beyond itself, not to draw a crowd hungry only for marvels.

5And when Jesus was entered into Capernaum, there came unto him a centurion, beseeching him, 6And saying, Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, grievously tormented. 7And Jesus saith unto him, I will come and heal him. 8The centurion answered and said, Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: but speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed. 9For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it. 10When Jesus heard it, he marvelled, and said to them that followed, Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. 11And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven. 12But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 13And Jesus said unto the centurion, Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee. And his servant was healed in the selfsame hour.

The second petitioner could hardly be more different from the first. A centurion was an officer of the occupying Roman army, a Gentile, a man Israel had every reason to resent. Yet he comes beseeching Jesus on behalf of a servant lying paralyzed and grievously tormented (vv. 5-6) - already a striking thing, an officer pleading for a slave. When Jesus offers to come to his house, the centurion answers with words the church has never forgotten: Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: but speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed (v. 8). Here is faith stripped to its core. He does not need Jesus present, does not need a touch or a ritual or a sign. He needs only the word. And he grasps something about Jesus that the religious leaders missed entirely: that Jesus' word carries the kind of authority that does not require His bodily presence to take effect - that He can command a disease the way a commander gives an order, and it will be done.

The centurion explains his confidence out of his own world: For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth… and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it (v. 9). It is a soldier's logic, and it is exactly right. He knows what authority is because he both stands under it and wields it. When he gives an order, he does not go and do the thing himself; his word, backed by the authority over him, is enough - the soldier obeys. So, he reasons, must it be with Jesus: let Him but say the word, and sickness itself will obey like a soldier under orders. What the centurion perceives is that Jesus stands within a chain of authority that runs up to God, so that His command has the force of heaven behind it. Jesus marvelled - one of only two places in the Gospels where He marvels - and turns to the crowd: I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel (v. 10). The outsider, the foreigner, the soldier of the enemy's army, has seen more truly than the covenant people who had the prophets and the promises.¹

The centurion's faith draws from Jesus a saying that flings the doors of the kingdom wide open: many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven (v. 11). The picture is a great feast, the patriarchs at the table, and streaming in from every direction - from the east and west - people who were never part of Israel by birth. The promise to Abraham was always that in him all families of the earth would be blessed (Gen. 12:3), and here that promise begins to come visible in a single Roman officer. But the saying carries a sharp warning alongside the welcome: the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness (v. 12). Birthright is no guarantee. To be born inside the covenant and yet refuse the faith of this Gentile is to risk being left outside the very feast the strangers are entering. Belonging to the kingdom is finally a matter of faith, not of pedigree. Then Jesus speaks the healing word the centurion asked for: as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee (v. 13), and the servant is healed in that very hour, at a distance, by the word alone.

Christ Connection - The Touch That Does Not Defile but Heals

Under the law, holiness was fragile and uncleanness was contagious: touch a leper, a corpse, a flow of blood, and the defilement passed to you. So the ordinary instinct, even the lawful instinct, was to keep one's distance from the unclean. Jesus reverses the current. He put forth his hand, and touched him (v. 3) - and instead of contracting the leprosy, He cleanses it. This is the pattern of the whole gospel drawn in a single gesture. The Holy One does not hold Himself back from the unclean; He comes near, He touches, and His holiness proves the stronger force. It is the same movement Isaiah foresaw in the Servant who would be numbered with the transgressors (Isa. 53:12) and yet remain the spotless one, taking on what was ours without being stained by it. And it runs straight to the cross, where He who knew no sin was made… to be sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21) - reaching into the deepest uncleanness, our sin itself, not to be defiled by it but to cleanse us of it. The leper went home clean because Holiness was willing to touch him. So does every sinner who comes to Christ. The hand stretched out to the untouchable in Capernaum is the same hand stretched out on the cross for the whole unclean world.

Christ Connection - Many from the East and West

A Gentile soldier's faith draws from Jesus a vision of the kingdom that overflows every border: many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven (v. 11). It is the first clear sign in Matthew that the salvation coming through Israel was always meant for the world. The promise made to Abraham - in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed (Gen. 12:3) - here finds its first Gentile firstfruits, and Jesus names the harvest still to come. That harvest is exactly what the risen Lord will commission at the end of this Gospel: Go ye therefore, and teach all nations (Matt. 28:19). The feast with the patriarchs is no closed table for one people; it is thrown open to whosoever believeth (John 3:16), to all who come from the east and the west by the door of faith. The centurion, kneeling for a servant, is the leading edge of a multitude no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues (Rev. 7:9), streaming in to Abraham's table. And the warning that travels with the welcome - that mere belonging saves no one - is the same grace from the other side: the door is faith, and faith is open to anyone who will walk through it.

Matthew 8:14-17Himself Took Our Infirmities

14And when Jesus was come into Peter's house, he saw his wife's mother laid, and sick of a fever. 15And he touched her hand, and the fever left her: and she arose, and ministered unto them. 16When the even was come, they brought unto him many that were possessed with devils: and he cast out the spirits with his word, and healed all that were sick: 17That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.

After the public scenes of the leper and the centurion comes a quiet, domestic one. Jesus goes into Peter's own house and finds Peter's mother-in-law laid, and sick of a fever (v. 14). There is no plea recorded this time, no negotiation, no crowd - only a sick woman in a bed and Jesus seeing her. He touched her hand, and the fever left her (v. 15). The same gentle gesture that cleansed the leper now lifts a fever; the touch of Jesus is becoming a refrain. And the result is told in a single telling phrase: she arose, and ministered unto them. The healing is so complete and so immediate that she is at once up and serving, strong enough to wait on her guests. There is a quiet picture of the whole point of healing here. She is not restored merely to comfort but to usefulness - raised up in order to serve. The grace that touches us is meant to set us back on our feet and back to our calling. What Christ heals, He heals for a purpose.

As the day ends the scene widens again: When the even was come, they brought unto him many that were possessed with devils: and he cast out the spirits with his word, and healed all that were sick (v. 16). It is the Sabbath sun going down, when carrying the sick was permitted again, and the whole town seems to converge on Peter's door. Notice the sweep of it - many, and then all; not one who came was turned away or left unhealed. And notice again the means: He cast out the spirits with his word. No incantation, no struggle, no elaborate rite - a word, and it is done, exactly as the centurion had believed it would be. The authority that commanded one disease across a distance now empties a town of its afflictions in an evening. Matthew is piling up the evidence, scene upon scene, of an authority that meets every kind of brokenness - leprosy, paralysis, fever, demonic torment, sickness of every sort - and is sufficient for all of it.

Then Matthew does something he does at the great turning points of his Gospel: he stops the narrative to tell us what it means, reaching back to the prophets. The healings happened, he says, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses (v. 17). The words are from Isaiah 53, the song of the suffering Servant.² By quoting it here, over a day of healing, Matthew binds the two together: the Servant who would carry our sicknesses is the One whose hands have just been emptying a town of disease. But the verbs are heavier than mere curing - He took and He bare. The Servant does not only remove our burdens from the outside; He takes them up, carries them, makes them His own. The healings of Capernaum are real, and they are also a sign pointing past themselves. They show in the body what He came to do in the soul - and they point toward the place where the taking and bearing would cost Him everything.

Christ Connection - He Took and He Bare

Matthew lays his finger directly on the heart of the chapter when he quotes Isaiah: Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses (v. 17; Isa. 53:4). The healings are not random acts of power; they are the Servant of Isaiah 53 stepping into history and doing visibly, in bodies, what He came ultimately to do for the whole person. And the language insists on more than cure. To take and to bare is to shoulder a weight, to carry it as one's own load. The same chapter of Isaiah says it again and again - he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows… the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all… he bare the sin of many (Isa. 53:4, 6, 12). The diseases He lifted off the people of Capernaum were the outward edge of a deeper sickness He came to bear - the sickness of sin itself, which no touch could simply wave away because it had to be carried to the cross. There he bare our sins in his own body on the tree (1 Pet. 2:24), and the verse Peter quotes to say it is the very next line of the same Isaiah song: with his stripes we are healed. So the evening of healings is a window onto Calvary. The hands that lifted the fever from Peter's house are the hands that would take up our infirmities to the end - not standing at arm's length from our affliction, but taking it onto Himself and bearing it away.

The whole movement of this section is a single direction: toward us, and onto Himself. He touched the fevered woman; He healed all who came; and Matthew sums it up with words that will not let us keep Jesus at a safe distance - Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses (v. 17). The thing to carry is that He does not deal with us by remote control. He does not stand back and pronounce us better from afar; He takes what is ours and bears it as His own. So bring Him the actual weight you are carrying - not the tidied, presentable version, but the real one: the worry that wakes you at three in the morning, the sickness in your body, the failure you keep hidden, the grief that has no fix. The promise is not that the weight is imaginary or that it will vanish on demand; the promise is that there is One willing to take it up and carry it with you and for you. This week, name one burden you have been carrying alone and hand it to Him deliberately in prayer - out loud, in plain words. You are not informing a distant deity of your trouble. You are giving your load to the One who came precisely to take it.

Matthew 8:18-27What Manner of Man Is This?

18Now when Jesus saw great multitudes about him, he gave commandment to depart unto the other side. 19And a certain scribe came, and said unto him, Master, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest. 20And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. 21And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. 22But Jesus said unto him, Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.

Between the healings and the storm Matthew sets two short exchanges about what it costs to follow. A scribe - a trained, respectable man - volunteers with great confidence: Master, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest (v. 19). Jesus does not flatter the offer; He tells him the plain truth about the road he is signing up for: The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head (v. 20). Even the wild creatures have a den and a roost; the Lord of all has no settled home. To follow Him is to follow a homeless wanderer who is on His way to a cross, not a rising teacher whose movement will bring comfort and standing. Jesus will not recruit a disciple under false pretenses. He lets the man count the cost with open eyes - the very thing He elsewhere commands every would-be follower to do before they begin.

The second exchange is harder, and it must be read carefully, for it is easily misheard. A disciple asks, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father (v. 21), and Jesus answers, Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead (v. 22). This is not contempt for family duty - honoring father and mother is the LORD's own commandment, and Jesus sharply rebuked those who used religion as an excuse to neglect their parents (Matt. 15:4-6). The key is the little word first: the man wants to put something ahead of the call. Many take the phrase to mean that the man's father had not yet died - that he was asking to postpone following until some indefinite future when family obligations were finally settled and he was free.³ The saying then turns on a vivid contrast: let those who are spiritually dead tend to the ordinary affairs of the dead, but the one who has heard the call of life must follow now. Jesus is not abolishing the duties of family; He is claiming the highest place. Discipleship cannot be slotted in behind everything else as one obligation among many. The One who is Lord must be Lord first, or He is not followed at all.

23And when he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him. 24And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves: but he was asleep. 25And his disciples came to him, and awoke him, saying, Lord, save us: we perish. 26And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm. 27But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him!

They put out onto the lake, and a sudden, violent storm comes down - a great tempest… insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves (v. 24). The Sea of Galilee is notorious for these squalls, and several of the disciples were fishermen who knew its moods; for them to be terrified, the danger was real and the boat was foundering. And through it all, he was asleep. The detail is human and unforgettable: Jesus is so worn from the day's labor that the pitch and roar of the storm do not wake Him. The disciples do: Lord, save us: we perish (v. 25). Their cry is half faith and half panic - they turn to the right person, but they are sure they are about to drown. Jesus answers first with a question that goes to the root: Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? They had the Lord of all asleep in their own boat; their fear was not unreasonable on the surface, but it had forgotten who was with them. Then He arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm. He speaks to the storm as He spoke to the demon and the disease - with a word of command - and the chaos goes instantly, utterly still.

The aftermath is as important as the miracle. The disciples are not simply relieved; they are unsettled into a deeper fear, and they ask the question the whole chapter has been driving toward: What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him! (v. 27). It is exactly the right question. They have seen Him heal and cast out spirits, but the sea is another order of thing - the great untameable force, the deep that no human voice can command. In the Scriptures of Israel, the One who rules the raging sea and stills its waves is the LORD Himself: Thou rulest the raging of the sea: when the waves thereof arise, thou stillest them (Ps. 89:9). For the storm to fall silent at this man's rebuke is to push the disciples up against a conclusion almost too large to hold. They do not yet have words for it. But the question they cannot answer is the question Matthew is pressing on the reader, and the rest of the Gospel will answer it.

Christ Connection - He Maketh the Storm a Calm

The stilling of the storm answers the disciples' question before they finish asking it. They cry, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him! (v. 27) - and the Scriptures of Israel give the answer in song. It is the LORD who stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves (Ps. 65:7); it is the LORD to whom storm-tossed mariners cry, and who maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still (Ps. 107:29²); it is the LORD who at creation set the bounds of the sea and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed (Job 38:11). To rule the sea with a word is the signature of the Creator. And here is a man in a fishing boat doing exactly that. The same authority by which all things were made (John 1:3) is at work in the One who arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea. The wonder of it is not lessened but deepened by the verse just before: this same Lord of wind and wave was, a moment earlier, asleep from exhaustion in the stern of the boat - fully wearied like any man, and fully able to command the deep like God alone. The disciples did not yet have the words. But the storm had already given the answer: the One asleep in their boat is the One whose voice the sea has obeyed since the world began.

Matthew 8:28-34What Have We to Do with Thee, Thou Son of God?

28And when he was come to the other side into the country of the Gergesenes, there met him two possessed with devils, coming out of the tombs, exceeding fierce, so that no man might pass by that way. 29And, behold, they cried out, saying, What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God? art thou come hither to torment us before the time? 30And there was a good way off from them an herd of many swine feeding. 31So the devils besought him, saying, If thou cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine. 32And he said unto them, Go. And when they were come out, they went into the herd of swine: and, behold, the whole herd of swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters. 33And they that kept them fled, and went their ways into the city, and told every thing, and what was befallen to the possessed of the devils. 34And, behold, the whole city came out to meet Jesus: and when they saw him, they besought him that he would depart out of their coasts.

The boat reaches the far shore, into the country east of the lake, and is met by a scene of pure desolation: two possessed with devils, coming out of the tombs, exceeding fierce, so that no man might pass by that way (v. 28). Everything about the picture speaks of death and ruin. The men live among the tombs, dwelling with the dead; they are violent beyond control; they have made a whole stretch of road impassable, cutting their region off the way leprosy cut off the leper. This is what the powers of darkness do to a human life when they are given mastery - they drive a person out of community, out of his right mind, out among the graves, into a living death. And it is into this very place, the haunt of the unclean and the dead, that Jesus deliberately crosses the lake. He does not avoid the region; He goes straight to it. The Lord who touched the leper and stilled the deep now walks up to the place no one dared pass.

The moment Jesus arrives, the spirits cry out, and what they say is remarkable: What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God? art thou come hither to torment us before the time? (v. 29). The demons recognize Him instantly and name Him truly - thou Son of God - a confession the disciples in the boat were still struggling toward. The powers of darkness are under no illusion about who He is. They also know how the story ends. Their question about being tormented before the time betrays it: they know there is an appointed time of judgment coming, and they know they are headed for it; their only question is whether the sentence is being carried out early. This is no contest between equal powers. The spirits do not threaten or resist; they plead. They are creatures who know their Judge has arrived, and the most they can do is beg. James will later put it starkly: the devils also believe, and tremble (Jas. 2:19) - and here they tremble before the One they cannot help but recognize.

The spirits make a strange request: If thou cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine (v. 31). Jesus answers with one word - Go - and the herd, some two thousand by Mark's account, stampedes violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters (v. 32). The destructive bent of the spirits is laid bare: given any object, they drive it to ruin and death, exactly as they had been driving the two men toward death among the tombs. The deliverance of the men is shown by the destruction of the swine; what had been tearing two human beings apart is cast out and comes to nothing in the deep. And the contrast with the men is the whole point. Mark and Luke complete the picture - the delivered man is found sitting… clothed, and in his right mind (Mark 5:15). Where the powers leave only death and ruin, Christ leaves a human being restored: clothed, calm, sane, back among the living. The same authority that cleansed the leper and stilled the storm has now reached the deepest captivity of all and set the prisoners free.

The ending is one of the saddest lines in the Gospels. Word reaches the town, and the whole city came out to meet Jesus: and when they saw him, they besought him that he would depart out of their coasts (v. 34). They had a power among them that could break every chain that bound a man and restore the most ruined life in the region - and they asked Him to leave. Why? Mark tells us they were afraid, and Matthew has just told us of the swine; very possibly the loss of the herd weighed more with them than the rescue of two men. Whatever the precise reason, the verse exposes a terrible possibility: a person, or a whole town, can meet the saving power of God and want nothing so much as to be rid of it - because His presence costs something, disturbs something, will not leave things as they were. And the most sobering word in the verse is the one that follows: He went. Jesus does not force Himself on those who beg Him to go. He had crossed a sea to come; when they asked Him to leave, He got back into the boat. The door He stands at, He knocks upon - He does not break it down.

Christ Connection - His Authority Over the Powers

The demoniacs' cry seals the chapter's argument from an unexpected witness. Disease obeyed Him, distance bowed to Him, the wind and the sea fell silent at His rebuke - and now the powers of darkness themselves confess Him: What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God? art thou come hither to torment us before the time? (v. 29). The very enemies who would never flatter Him cannot help but name Him truly - thou Son of God - and cannot do anything but beg. They know His authority is absolute and their defeat is fixed; they ask only about its timing. This is a foretaste of the great victory the cross would win in full. There, Paul says, having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a shew of them openly, triumphing over them in it (Col. 2:15) - the powers stripped, exposed, led in His triumph. It is why He came: For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8). The two men found in their right mind are the first trophies of that purpose, snatched out of a living death. And the demons' own words name the One who has come: the Son of God, before whom the whole hierarchy of darkness can only tremble and plead. The kingdom He preached on the mountain has come down into the country of the tombs, and even there - especially there - His authority is total.

Set the chapter's two endings side by side and let them search you. In the boat, the disciples, terrified, cried out the right question: What manner of man is this? (v. 27) - and they stayed with Him to find the answer. In the country of the Gergesenes, a whole town met the same Lord and besought him that he would depart out of their coasts (v. 34) - and He went. The difference between those two responses is the difference the chapter is finally about. The power that heals the leper, stills the storm, and breaks the grip of the powers will not be tamed or kept at a safe, convenient distance; His coming always disturbs something, costs something, refuses to leave a life exactly as it was. And so every person who meets Him faces the town's choice in some form: to want His presence even when it unsettles us, or to prefer our undisturbed swine and ask Him, politely, to move along. The hard truth in the closing verse is that He grants the request - He does not stay where He is not wanted. So make the honest examination this week: is there a corner of your life where you have quietly been asking Jesus to depart out of your coasts - a place where His lordship would cost you something you are not ready to lose? Name it. Then, instead of sending Him away, ask Him in - the same Lord who set the man among the tombs free, clothed and in his right mind, is more than able to do the same with whatever you have been guarding.

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Further study

Matthew 8 · Greek interlinear + word studiesBible Hub
The Greek text of Matthew 8 word by word, with parsing and lexical links - useful for thel&omac; (v. 3, the “I will” of Jesus' willing word), for exousia (v. 9, the “authority” the centurion understands), and for potapos (v. 27, the astonished “what manner of man”).
Matthew 8 ↔ Isaiah 53 · Psalm 107 · Leviticus 13-14Intertextual Bible
Traces the threads tying Matthew 8 to the rest of Scripture - the evening healings (v. 16) read against the Servant who hath borne our griefs (Isa. 53:4) which Matthew quotes outright in verse 17, and the stilling of the sea (vv. 26-27) read beside he maketh the storm a calm (Ps. 107:29).
Matthew 8 - Translators' NotesNET Bible
The NET Bible's detailed footnotes on Matthew 8 - the cleansing of the leper and the law of Leviticus 14 behind verse 4, the Greek behind the centurion's “speak the word only” (v. 8), the meaning of “let the dead bury their dead” (v. 22), and the textual question over “Gergesenes” in verse 28.

Where this echoes in Scripture

I Will; Be Thou Clean

Himself Took Our Infirmities

What Manner of Man Is This?

What Have We to Do with Thee, Thou Son of God?

Matthew 8

Tap any highlighted phrase to jump to the commentary that unpacks it.

Matthew 8:1-13I Will; Be Thou Clean

Christ Connection - The Touch That Does Not Defile but Heals

Christ Connection - Many from the East and West

Matthew 8:14-17Himself Took Our Infirmities

Christ Connection - He Took and He Bare

Matthew 8:18-27What Manner of Man Is This?

Christ Connection - He Maketh the Storm a Calm

Matthew 8:28-34What Have We to Do with Thee, Thou Son of God?

Christ Connection - His Authority Over the Powers

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Further study

Matthew 8 · Greek interlinear + word studiesBible Hub
The Greek text of Matthew 8 word by word, with parsing and lexical links - useful for thel&omac; (v. 3, the “I will” of Jesus' willing word), for exousia (v. 9, the “authority” the centurion understands), and for potapos (v. 27, the astonished “what manner of man”).
Matthew 8 ↔ Isaiah 53 · Psalm 107 · Leviticus 13-14Intertextual Bible
Traces the threads tying Matthew 8 to the rest of Scripture - the evening healings (v. 16) read against the Servant who hath borne our griefs (Isa. 53:4) which Matthew quotes outright in verse 17, and the stilling of the sea (vv. 26-27) read beside he maketh the storm a calm (Ps. 107:29).
Matthew 8 - Translators' NotesNET Bible
The NET Bible's detailed footnotes on Matthew 8 - the cleansing of the leper and the law of Leviticus 14 behind verse 4, the Greek behind the centurion's “speak the word only” (v. 8), the meaning of “let the dead bury their dead” (v. 22), and the textual question over “Gergesenes” in verse 28.

Matthew 8

Matthew 8:1-13I Will; Be Thou Clean

Matthew 8:14-17Himself Took Our Infirmities

Matthew 8:18-27What Manner of Man Is This?

Matthew 8:28-34What Have We to Do with Thee, Thou Son of God?