It all started during the weekly Torah reading.

The first mention of the Choshen Mishpat, the breastplate that the kohen gadol, the High Priest, wears with his priestly garments, may have been during parshat Tetzaveh, but the idea for the art project only came to Naomi Bareket a week later, when the Torah reading was Vayakhel-Pikudei, the double parsha where the Israelites actually assembled the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. Often she would drift off during the laining, but during the building of the Mishkan she always paid special attention. As an artist, she loved the story of Bezalel building the Tabernacle. In Vayakhel she noticed that the nesi-im, the tribal leaders, donated the precious stones for the Choshen. But in Pikudei she read about the stones that were involved.

There were four rows of three gems, one for each tribe of Israel.

Odem, pitdah, and bareket

Nofech, sapir, and yahalom

Leshem, shevo, and achlamah

Tarshish, shoham, and yashveh

To Naomi, they sounded exotic and filled with mystery, like something out of the Arabian Nights. No one was truly certain what gems they were, though the color of each was thought to be known. They were so valuable that they were donated by the tribal leaders, presumably some of the wealthiest members of the nation.

And the Choshen was laden with significance. Hashem would communicate with the Kohen Gadol through its stones, to answer questions of national import. The stones would light up to deliver God’s message.

That really captured Naomi’s imagination.

Naomi was working as the art teacher at the local Jewish day school, but she had an extensive background in graphic arts, with an M.F.A. from the School of Fine Arts in New York. She was always working on some new artwork. Some were by commission, and some were for fun. At present, she was between projects, but that was always temporary.

It was during the Haftorah that the idea came to her. She was listening to the story of King Solomon completing the work on the Beit Hamikdash.

“Then Shlomo gathered together the elders of Israel, all the heads of the tribes, the leaders of the ancestral families of the children of Israel to King Solomon in Jerusalem to bring up the Ark of the Covenant of Hashem from the City of David, which is in Zion.” [Malachim I, 8:1]

It was then that she realized she was going to build a Choshen Mishpat for her community. It would be beautiful; it would be glorious; and just as in the time of the Mishkan, it would be unifying. Of course it was only a model of the original Choshen, but still it could serve the purpose of bringing everyone together.

She needed 12 gems, of course. And each would have to be from one of the Jewish tribes of her town. There were no longer the 12 original tribes, but there were Jewish tribes, nonetheless.

The most likely ally in her effort would be Rabbi Neiblach, the local Lubavitch rabbi. After all, what she was seeking was harmony, and no one was as respected in all circles as he was. Rabbi Neiblach’s smile said it all. “I love it!” he exclaimed with his usual exuberance. “What a glorious idea. What a Kiddush Hashem. Naomi, you are a genius.”

The rabbi sent out the email to all the community’s leaders: Wanted: Precious gems to build a model of the Choshen Mishpat.

Who: Naomi Bareket, local artist and visionary, and, of course, all of you.

What: A community-wide art project that, once completed, will rotate on display between each of our institutions. It will bring us all together for a project.

How: Scour your synagogue/temple/Jewish center/institution for any precious stones among your community members. Got any old jewelry sitting around? Now is the time to use it.

Why: Nu, why not? The original Choshen Mishpat brought all of Israel together with 12 stones on one breast plate. The amalgamation of all 12 tribes on one Choshen led to great miracles. Who is to say what it can do for us? And to be less dramatic, Naomi is very talented, and together we can create something beautiful.

When: If not now….

Please note: Unlike the original Choshen, your gems will only be on loan. Once the project is done, you will get them back. With interest (What’s the interest? A big Kiddush Hashem).

Rabbi Neiblach sent the email to the Jewish Sentinel, the local Jewish newspaper, as well as all the community leaders, and the idea pleased Harvey Charlop, the editor. He ran the appeal on the editorial page.

The first stone came from Rabbi Neiblach himself. It was the Rebbetzin Neiblach’s engagement ring diamond. Mrs. Neiblach, of blessed memory, had been gone over ten years, and the ring had been sitting in the safety deposit box at Citizens National Bank. He had no daughters, only seven sons, and none had wanted his mother’s rock when they got married. The diamond wasn’t big, but it was fine quality, and it would definitely suffice for the tarshish stone for the Choshen.

Harvey Charlop ran the article on the front page of the Sentinel: Community Choshen Off and Running. Rabbi Neiblach Donates Asher Stone.

Never underestimate the power of the press.

The next donation came from the Conservative synagogue. Mrs. Rosenstern donated a ruby that had belonged to her great aunt from Belarus. It had been the headstone of the tiara she wore at her coming out party in 1938. In the old country, the Rosensterns had been very successful (in the new country, too). A big, beautiful ruby would serve very well for the odem.

The Sentinel headline read: Rosenstern Donates Reuven. Generosity Knows No Bounds.

From the Reform temple a donation came from Hymie Schwartz. He had worked on 47th Street in the Diamond District his whole adult life, and only God knew what he had stored in the wall safe in his house. The emerald he dropped off at Naomi’s house made her gasp. All Hymie said was, “It’s flawless. Enjoy it in good health, darling.” The emerald would make a spectacular pitdah.

The Sentinel went with: Schwartz Gives Shimon. Hymie Has a Heart.

By now the publicity had been building, and everyone in town was all abuzz about the project. The donors were being called the Choshen People, and everyone wanted to get onboard.

The Jacobson family were members of the Orthodox synagogue on South Maple Street. They were originally from Poland, but during World War II they had fled to Shanghai, China. One of their souvenirs from their time there was a large black pearl. At the time they were relatively cheap, but now this particular sample was worth a small fortune. Tammy Jacobson donated it in memory of her grandmother Ida. It would make a wonderful shoham.

The headline read: Miracle on Maple Street. Jacobson Jumps for Joseph.

There was no great story behind the sapphire that Daniel Ruchami donated. He was a member of the Sephardic synagogue near the police station. It was not a family heirloom. It had not been smuggled from another country. He was a dot.com mogul from the ’90s (something about an app that can find you the best drycleaner) and that was all anyone needed to know. Still, it was a beautiful stone. It would serve wonderfully as the leshem.

Daniel Donates for Dan. Tycoon Gives Google-Sized Gem, the Sentinel read.

At this point the donations were pouring in fast and furious. Mark Haimowitz from the Egalitarian minyan donated an amethyst for nofech (Judah). Rebeka Ben David from the Reconstructionist synagogue dropped off an opal as a yahalom (Zevulun). A Lapis Lazuli was donated by the Schreiber family from the shtiebel near the bus station for sapir (Yisachar). An onyx stone was donated by a completely unaffiliated woman who had read the story in the Sentinel and felt inspired. It would make an excellent shevo (Naftali).

Within weeks all of the stones were in. Naomi was completely overwhelmed by the donations. She imagined this must have been was it was like at the time of the Mishkan. Everyone was swept up in the excitement of the construction, and everyone wanted to give more. In the desert the original donations may have come in for the pure service of God, here it was more a sense of Jewish community and general creativity that was driving the effort. Still it greatly inspired her and it drove her approach to the art work.

The Choshen was unveiled three months later at the Lubavitch synagogue on Main Street. Though the model was more modern than most had expected, it was unveiled to rave reviews, and was a great sort of pride for all the Jews in the town. Though no obvious communication from God came from the stones on the breastplate, the larger message of Jewish solidarity required no interpretation for the onlookers.

It was crystal clear.

Larry Stiefel is a pediatrician at Tenafly Pediatrics.

By Larry Stiefel