Catholic Commentary
The Women Witnesses at the Cross
55Many women were there watching from afar, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, serving him.56Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee.
When the apostles fled, women stood at the cross—and Matthew names them as legal witnesses, making their fidelity the first and most crucial testimony of the Passion.
As Jesus dies on Golgotha, a group of women who had followed him from Galilee stand watching from a distance — faithful, present, and named. Where the male disciples have scattered, these women remain, and Matthew deliberately records their identity as if entering them into the testimony of the Passion. Their presence is not incidental but theologically charged: they are the first witnesses of the Crucifixion and will become the first witnesses of the Resurrection.
Verse 55 — "Many women were there watching from afar, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, serving him."
The phrase "watching from afar" (Greek: apò makróthen theōroûsai) is precise and deliberate. Matthew uses the verb theōreō — not mere glancing but sustained, attentive observation. These women are witnesses in the legal and theological sense: they see, they remain, and their testimony will matter. The distance ("from afar") may reflect the physical cordoning of the execution site by Roman soldiers, but it also carries narrative weight: Psalm 38:11 uses the identical image ("my friends and companions stand aloof from my affliction"), casting these women within the typological pattern of the suffering righteous.
The participial phrase "who had followed Jesus from Galilee" is extraordinary. Akolouthéō — "to follow" — is Matthew's defining discipleship verb (cf. 4:20, 4:22, 9:9). These women are not bystanders who happen to be present; they are disciples, followers who have made the long journey from Galilee to Jerusalem. The verb is in the aorist, indicating persistent following over time, not a single act. Matthew's original readers, familiar with the cost of such discipleship, would have heard this as a confession of fidelity.
"Serving him" (diakónousai) is equally striking. Diakonia is the word Jesus himself used to describe his own mission ("the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve," 20:28) and the hallmark of greatness in his kingdom (20:26–27). These women embody the very ideal Jesus preached. Luke 8:2–3 clarifies their service involved material support for the itinerant ministry — but Matthew lifts the word beyond the practical into the theological. They are servant-disciples standing at the cross while servant-hood is being glorified from it.
Verse 56 — "Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee."
Matthew names three women with care. The naming is juridically significant: under Jewish law (Deuteronomy 19:15), testimony required multiple witnesses. Matthew provides them. Mary Magdalene is named first — a distinction she holds in all four Gospel lists of the women at the Passion and Resurrection. Her primacy of position here anticipates her role as the first witness of the Risen Christ (28:1–10; John 20:11–18). The early Church did not forget this: she is styled in tradition apostola apostolorum — "the apostle to the Apostles."
"Mary the mother of James and Joses" is likely the same woman identified by Mark (15:40, 16:1) and possibly the "other Mary" of Matthew 28:1. Some patristic commentators, including Jerome, identified her with "Mary of Clopas" in John 19:25, and possibly with a sister of the Blessed Virgin — though these identifications remain debated. Her naming by her children situates her in the community Matthew's readers would recognize.
Catholic tradition reads these verses as a testimony to the genuine discipleship of women in a way that is neither anachronistic nor reductive. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "Jesus called the Twelve… he also chose women as his intimates" (CCC 1577 note context), and Saint John Paul II's apostolic letter Mulieris Dignitatem (1988) devotes extended reflection to these exact women, calling their presence at Golgotha a "sign of the special sensitivity of the feminine heart" and noting that "this fidelity and courage… is the fruit of the love which had been kindled in the hearts of these women" (MD §15). For John Paul II, their perseverance while the Apostles fled is not a rebuke to the male disciples but a revelation of what diakonia looks like when rooted in love rather than power.
The Church Fathers noted the theological inversion at work. Saint John Chrysostom (Homilies on Matthew, 88) marvels: "When the disciples fled, the women remained — what zeal! what devotion!" For Chrysostom, their presence fulfills the logic of the Passion: the last become first, the weak confound the strong. Saint Ambrose similarly reads their vigil as an image of the Church (Ecclesia as mulier fidelis) — the Bride who does not abandon the crucified Bridegroom.
The naming of witnesses also touches on Catholic sacramental theology. The Church's teaching on the sensus fidelium — that the faithful as a body bear witness to divine truth — has its roots in scenes precisely like this one. These women are the kernel of the witnessing community; their testimony at the cross and tomb becomes the foundational act of Christian martyria (witness). Pope Francis in Evangelii Gaudium (§275) speaks of how women "have played and still play a significant role in transmitting the faith" — a role visible in embryo here at Golgotha.
Contemporary Catholics will recognize a perennial spiritual challenge in these verses: the temptation to disappear when faith becomes costly. The male disciples scattered; these women stayed. Their staying was not passive — standing at an execution in first-century Judea carried real social danger. Discipleship, Matthew implies, is measured not by what we profess in comfort but by what we do in the darkness of Golgotha.
Practically, these verses invite an examination of the specific women in one's own faith community whose diakonia sustains the Church's life — often unnoticed, rarely named from the pulpit — and to honour that service explicitly. The tradition of naming these women (Mary Magdalene first among them) is itself a model: Christian witness requires remembering who bore the cost.
For those accompanying the dying — as caregivers, family, hospital chaplains — the image of "watching from afar" is a pastoral word of validation. Sometimes proximity is impossible. But presence — sustained, attentive, loving presence at whatever distance circumstances allow — is itself an act of discipleship and diakonia. These women did not save Jesus. They witnessed him. And that witnessing changed everything.
"The mother of the sons of Zebedee" is the mother of James and John — who, just chapters earlier (20:20–21), had come to Jesus requesting thrones for her sons. That request proved painfully ironic: the "cup" her sons would share (20:22–23) is now being drunk before her eyes. She asked for glory; she receives a cross. Yet she stays. Her presence here is a quiet act of repentance and transformation.
The typological sense points toward the women of Israel who witnessed the Exodus and sang on the far shore (Exodus 15:20–21, Miriam leading the women). As Moses' death opened the way to the Promised Land, so Christ's death opens the new Exodus. These women stand at the boundary — between death and what is about to be revealed.