Gregory of Nazianzus

I will address myself as is right to those who have come from Egypt. They have come here eagerly, having overcome ill will by zeal. They come from that Egypt which is enriched by the river who is Christ, raining out of the earth and like the sea in its season—if I too may follow in my small measure those who have so eloquently spoken of these matters. They too are enriched by Christ my Lord. He too was once fugitive in Egypt; the first, when he fled from Herod’s massacre of the children, and now by the love of the fathers for their children, by Christ the new food of those who hunger after good, who offers the greatest alms of corn of which history speaks and men believe. He is the bread that came down from heaven and gives life to the world, that life which is indestructible and indissoluble. It is of him that I now seem to hear the Father saying, “Out of Egypt have I called my son.”

Such, brethren, is our life, we whose existence is so transitory. Such is the game we play upon earth. We do not exist, and then we are born, and being born we are soon dissolved. We are a fleeting dream, an apparition without substance, the flight of a bird that passes, a ship that leaves no trace upon the sea. We are dust, a vapor, the morning dew, a flower growing but a moment and withering in a moment. “Man’s days are as grass: as the flower of the field, so shall he flourish.” How beautifully has holy David meditated on our weakness: “Declare unto me the fewness of my days.” ON HIS BROTHER ST.

But that brazen serpent was hung up as a remedy for the biting serpents, not as a type of him that suffered for us but as a contrast. And [the brazen serpent] saved those that looked upon it, not because they believed it to live but because it was killed, and killed with it were the powers that were subject to it, being destroyed as it deserved. And what is the fitting epitaph for it from us? “O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?” You are overthrown by the cross; you are slain by him who is the giver of life; you are without breath, dead, without motion, even though you keep the form of a serpent lifted up on a pole.