February 16, 2025|י"ח שבט ה' אלפים תשפ"ה From Pain to Pride: Rising as a Kingdom of Priests and a Holy Nation and the Changing Narrative in the Middle East By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Has October 7th made you more proud or more depressed to be a Jew? It’s a tough question. Our hearts are filled with pride but also heavy with pain. Yet I perceive a change over the past few weeks. I don’t know if the change will last, but it is real.

Until recently, the burden seemed to fall squarely on Israel to provide a post-Gaza plan that was acceptable to the Palestinians. Yes, Israel was viciously attacked, and Israel needed to protect itself, but the prevailing global sentiment often suggested that Israel’s response went too far. Criticism accused Israel of destroying Gaza, committing war crimes, and leaving it with the responsibility to propose a post-war plan that the Palestinians would accept. The implication was that if Israel couldn’t achieve this, it should withdraw and allow the Palestinians to rebuild, potentially preparing for the next round of conflict.

But something has shifted. The narrative is starting to change. Publicly, there seems to be no daylight between Israel and its most powerful ally, the United States. In fact, American plans for the Gaza Strip now appear more assertive than those initially proposed by Israel. Additionally, sanctions imposed by the Trump administration on the International Criminal Court (ICC) for targeting Israel froze the assets of Chief Prosecutor Karim Khan and banned him from entering the United States. Whether one agrees with Trump’s plan for Gaza or not, it has undeniably increased pressure on moderate Arab nations to propose reasonable alternatives that Israel might accept. Slowly but surely, Israel is gaining more respect in the region. Whether this respect is grudging or genuine, it is significant. 

This moment calls us to reflect on who we are as a people. When God gave us the Torah, He revealed the ultimate purpose of our mission:

“ואתם תהיו לי ממלכת כהנים וגוי קדוש”

"You shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exodus 19:6).

What do these terms mean—mamlechet kohanim and goy kadosh?

A goy kadosh, a holy nation, is self-explanatory. It is about living lives of holiness, aspiring to sanctity by serving God faithfully. But this holiness is inward-facing—it speaks of our personal relationship with God, not necessarily our responsibility to the world.

A mamlechet kohanim, however, suggests a higher calling. The kohen is a bridge, a servant who connects God and humanity. The Ramban defines the kohen as a m’sharet—a servant of God. Rav Yehuda Leon Ashkenazi, a French spiritual leader from last century, teaches that to be a kohen is to serve humanity, while the Seforno explains that the kohen’s role is to inspire others to call upon God and live lives of meaning. Thus, a mamlechet kohanim implies a collective mission: to inspire the world by embodying and sharing Divine values.

But why a mamlechet kohanim—a kingdom of priests? Why not simply “kohanim”? The distinction lies in whether we see Judaism as a religion or a nation. Are we content to be kohanim, good Jews living faithfully in non-Jewish lands? Or do we rise to the challenge of being a mamlacha, a nation tasked with embodying God’s message on the world stage?

God’s promise is that when we live by His values, we will not only be kohanim but princes among nations. As the Abrabanel explains, a mamlacha implies that we will gain the respect of others, like royalty.

And today, we are witnessing this vision unfold. For decades, Israel has been a breath of fresh air in a turbulent region. With all its challenges, it has built a thriving economy, a flourishing Torah culture, and an unbreakable bond of national unity. This week, we all heard about the tragic story of Eli Sharabi, who emerged from captivity in an emaciated state only to learn that his wife and daughters were murdered over a year ago. Yet we also heard how he was embraced by over 6,000 donors raising more than $300,000 for him within hours, exemplifying the love and care of our people.

Until recently, we were a goy kadosh—a nation struggling to defend itself, burdened by double standards. Double standards in how we defend ourselves against our enemies, how we must fight to survive with two hands tied behind our back while the world looks for every opportunity to condemn us. Now, we are becoming a mamlechet kohanim—a respected and admired leader in the region. This transformation fills me with hope.

There is a crucial difference between goy kadosh and mamlechet kohanim. A goy kadosh is singular—holiness as a collective, as a nation, as a whole. But mamlechet kohanim is plural—it demands that each of us be a kohen, that each one of us take personal responsibility. Every Jew must be a kohen, playing their part in elevating the world.

This dual responsibility echoes the tension between two traditions at Sinai. One midrash says God held the mountain over our heads, forcing us to accept the Torah. Another says we chose God willingly, declaring, “Naaseh v’nishma”—we will do and we will listen.

Rabbi Norman Lamm explains this duality beautifully: God chose us, but we must also choose Him in every generation. To be chosen by God is a fate; to choose God is a fortune. Those who only feel chosen bear Judaism as a burden. But those who also choose God transform their lives into a blessing.

October 7th was a tragedy of being chosen. But in its aftermath, Jews around the world have chosen to rise. We have witnessed extraordinary courage, unity, and faith. This is the essence of mamlechet kohanim—not only surviving but elevating ourselves and others, not just the nation as a whole, but thousands of individual stories, thousands of individual kohanim bringing God’s light into the darkest places. And now we are beginning to witness a mamlacha, an even greater flourishing of that vision as we gain more respect in the eyes of the world.

Whether October 7th has made you more proud or more pained to be a Jew is up to you. That is the challenge of being chosen—and choosing. May we continue to rise to this calling, transforming our challenges into blessings and becoming a true mamlechet kohanim ve-goy kadosh—a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.