Timeless Torah

Currently, we as Americans pay taxes. Biblically, we as Jews were obligated to bring the first fruits to the Temple. Initially, there doesn’t seem to be too much difference between the two systems. But on further analysis, the Halachic mandate and the American body of law are at polar ends of the legal landscape.
One indication that this is indeed so, is the fact that taxes are only liable after you have earned a requisite amount of money. First fruits, on the other hand, are set aside before you, or your family, have enjoyed even one morsel of your hard labor. But why is the emphasis on first, rather than best? A similar question that can be asked is why the Bible originally required that we dedicate our first son to the Temple service? Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to draft our best and brightest?
Yet the Torah’s preference for “firsts” is because they set the tone. “First” is the beginning, the foundation. It might not be so bad if a building has a flaw on the eighth floor, but a defect at the foundation level is very serious.
When a Jew harvests his crop, the first fruit is holy. It sets the tone for how a person views his livelihood. So too, when a first born son is destined for the priesthood, it sets a pattern that affects the entire family. Compare this with our tax code that defines your obligation only after the salary you take home has been determined. Consequently, what is your lifestyle based upon? Your pay stub or by what has been held back by the Federal Government?
Recently, I was with my first born (who has on some level set the standard for his younger siblings) in New York buying some sefarim. In this case, they were books on Talmudic Law. This is an ordinary scene for fathers and sons in a Jewish, religious neighborhood. But can you imagine a similar scenario for a non-Jewish parent with his teenager discussing whether or not to purchase a compilation of all United States Federal Law? It is most unlikely. Truthfully, Americans minimize their encounters with the law; while Jews immerse themselves in it. Thus Halacha is viewed in the context of the way we conduct our daily lives, rather than as a profession specifically to be studied by aspiring lawyers.
As citizens of this great country, we take special pride in our personal freedoms. Our Constitution was designed to set strict limits on the government. There are clear boundaries beyond which we do not want to have legislation enforced upon us. Halacha however, is comfortable prescribing Jewish behavior in areas where the American judiciary wouldn’t dare to trespass. This is the reason why Halacha opines on such diverse topics such as how to tie your shoes and how to speak to your mother.
It could be argued that the strength of the modern legal system is that it allows for zones of privacy. As individuals we are thus free to fill our personal moments and places with self-definition. Yet while Americans fought to carve out these private spaces they so dearly cherish, Halacha lovingly filled them up.
No wonder that the Constitution never directly addresses its audience in a personal way. Instead, it refers to, “We the people...” Conversely, in the Ten Commandments G-d intimately says to each and every single soul, “I am the L-rd, Your G-d...”
Yes, we pay taxes. And yes again, we all give charity. But is our tzedaka a case of first fruits? And are our lives founded upon the rhythms of Halacha or is Jewish Law an afterthought? Hopefully, Halacha comes first, last, and fills everything in between. Because if it doesn’t, we aren’t bringing first fruits; we’re just paying additional taxes.