"Religion is an ecological niche," "religion is a social game." This is how many thoughtful and serious people speak about religion. A game... That is exactly what Jesus calls the Pharisees: devout people who know and fulfill all religious prescriptions, who live solely by this and nothing else: "Actors!" It is not that He condemns acting as such; these people are simply playing at what must not be played at.

However much our life resembles theater, God cannot be part of a performance. That is why this social game is completely unacceptable for Jesus: God is too important and too near to Him for such playacting, first praying for show and then deceiving and humiliating, preaching and then forgetting about God, being honest before Him in the meticulous counting of a tithe from vegetables and then deceiving Him with one's whole life. Perhaps this is our human need: to portray someone, to present ourselves as someone... But the Heavenly Father does not play house. His love is real.

The most terrible thing is that the higher a person's calling, the more tragic and painful his falling away, his unbelief, becomes. The Pharisees were religious teachers of God's people, guardians of tradition, law, and Scripture. Jerusalem is "the city of the great King," but it is precisely there that Christ dies. The Jews are the chosen people, "God's own," yet "He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him."

We Christians are also a people chosen by God, children of Abraham by faith, guardians of the Gospel Tradition. Therefore we too walk along the edge of the abyss; we too are in the risk group. At any moment our piety can turn into hypocrisy, conviction in faith into a sense of our own rightness, respect for traditions into legalism. How can we avoid "the leaven of the Pharisees" and still remain God's people? How can we preserve faithfulness to the Gospel without losing Christ?

Speaking about the religiosity of the Pharisees, Jesus points them to the main thing in the Torah that they had forgotten: justice, mercy, and faithfulness. It is not hard to see that, by mentioning mercy and faithfulness, Jesus is turning to the prophetic tradition: the phrase "mercy and faithfulness" first appears in the preaching of the pre-exilic prophet Hosea; in the Synodal translation the expression used is "mercy and truth." Hosea considered mercy and faithfulness to be the very foundation of all human relations with God, and Jesus, as we can see, supports him.

What is this about? By mercy, with the corresponding Hebrew word in mind, the authors of the biblical books always meant the readiness to do more for another person than that person deserves, and more than one is obliged to do by, for example, law or contract. It is no surprise that Hosea connects the possibility of any future at all for the people of God only with God's mercy: by the time of his life and preaching, Israel had already managed to violate every clause of the covenant made at Sinai, and now all that remained was to hope that God would still give His people a new chance, one they deserved by no law at all. And hope for such a turn of events could be given only by faithfulness: both God's faithfulness to the covenant once made, which He will not betray no matter what, and the people's faithfulness to God, unconditional and absolute, the kind in which calculations and references to any rights whatsoever are out of place. And if this was true in the history of the people of God, then all that Hosea said was even more true with regard to the Kingdom, which no one deserved and which no one could earn by any power of their own.

The justice of which Jesus speaks was connected with the very purpose for which the Torah was given to the people: to distinguish good from evil, to understand what is pleasing to God and what is repugnant to Him. Meanwhile, religious formalism often led to the Torah being used to condemn the sinner rather than to evaluate the sinful act he had committed. And in doing this people also forgot mercy and faithfulness, for the relationships defined by them are distinguished precisely by the fact that they cannot be formalized; it is impossible to calculate exactly who owes whom and how much. And only in this way, strictly speaking, could one count on the Kingdom: any one of us will be able to receive it only if the One who brought it into the world gives us a generous gift. So generous that by no earthly measure could we count on anything like it.