Few rock bands have grappled with the weight of faith, politics, and the raw ache of human longing quite like U2. From their earliest days, Bono and company have spun religious imagery into their lyrics—not as mere ornamentation, but as a vital thread in their storytelling. Sometimes it’s explicitly Christian, other times unmistakably Jewish, and often it transcends any one tradition, speaking to something universal.
While their Catholic roots are well-documented, their engagement with Jewish themes flies under the radar, despite being just as integral to their larger narrative of exile, redemption, and the search for justice.
Jerusalem and the Call to Zion
"With a Shout (Jerusalem)" is one of U2’s most overt engagements with Jewish and biblical themes. The song captures the idea of Zion as both a tangible and spiritual place. Zion, originally referring to Mount Zion, the ancient fortress of King David, evolved in Jewish tradition to symbolize Jerusalem itself, the heart of Jewish identity and the ultimate place of return. Later, it came to represent an even greater spiritual ideal—the hope for redemption, both personal and collective.
Bono sings with urgency about wanting to stand "at the foot of the Messiah", echoing not just Christian anticipation of Christ’s return, but also the Jewish expectation of the Messianic Age, when justice and peace will be restored to the world. The repeated calls to "Jerusalem" feel like a cry for something lost, a yearning to be whole again, much like the longing found in Jewish prayers that call for the city’s restoration.
In this song, Bono aligns himself with generations of exiles who have sung of Zion from afar, making the song as much about spiritual homesickness as it is about faith.

Betrayal and the Jewish Story of Judas
"Until the End of the World" reimagines the betrayal of Jesus through the eyes of Judas Iscariot, offering an interpretation that goes beyond the usual condemnation of the traitor. In the song, Judas speaks directly to Jesus, recounting the events of that fateful night with a mix of bitterness and regret. The lyrics are filled with imagery of indulgence ("We ate the food, we drank the wine") and personal turmoil ("I kissed your lips and broke your heart"), painting Judas not as a villain but as a tragic figure consumed by his own choices.
This story unfolds against a deeply Jewish backdrop. The Last Supper was a Passover meal, linking it to Jewish tradition and history. The betrayal took place in the Garden of Gethsemane, which is on the Mount of Olives, a site with profound Jewish significance in messianic prophecy. Moreover, Judas' despair echoes biblical narratives of downfall and exile—his tragic fate resembles that of biblical figures who fell out of divine favor and were consumed by guilt.
Bono’s Judas is a man who recognizes the magnitude of what he has done but cannot escape it, much like Israel’s prophets who saw destruction on the horizon but could not prevent it.
Yahweh: The Unspoken Name of God
In "Yahweh", U2 goes straight to the source—the sacred, unutterable name of God in Judaism. Yahweh (יהוה) is the personal name of God revealed to Moses at the burning bush in Exodus 3:14. Observant Jews refrain from pronouncing it, using terms like "Adonai" (Lord) or "HaShem" (The Name) instead.
Bono’s decision to repeatedly invoke Yahweh in the song is striking—it’s rare in modern music, and even rarer in a way that is meant to be reverent rather than provocative.
Lyrically, "Yahweh" is a prayer.
Bono pleads for renewal and transformation, singing:
"Take this soul / Stranded in some skin and bones / Take this soul and make it sing."
This mirrors the prophetic tradition in the Hebrew Bible, where individuals and nations continually seek to return to God. The song follows the Jewish theme of t’shuvah, or repentance—a turning back toward the divine. The call to Yahweh is not one of certainty, but of desperate hope, much like the cries of the Psalms and the lamentations of prophets like Jeremiah.

The Wanderer and the Jewish Exile
Johnny Cash’s deep, mournful voice gives "The Wanderer" a weight that feels lifted from the Book of Ecclesiastes. The song’s protagonist walks through a desolate landscape, searching for meaning. The theme of wandering is one of the oldest in Jewish history—from Abraham leaving his homeland, to Moses leading the Israelites through the desert, to the long history of Jewish diaspora and exile. This song taps into that tradition of displacement, where spiritual wandering mirrors physical exile.
Bono’s lyrics echo the lament of King Solomon, who, at the end of his life, declared that all human pursuits are meaningless without wisdom (Ecclesiastes 1:2). The wanderer in this song has seen the world’s corruption but keeps searching for something more, walking through cities filled with "empty churches and silent bells". The existential doubt in "The Wanderer" is reminiscent of the Jewish search for divine presence, even in times of hiddenness (a concept known as hester panim, or the "hiding of God’s face"). The song is both a lament and a challenge: What does it mean to have faith in a world that feels abandoned?
Zion’s Daughters and Abraham’s Sons
"Love and Peace or Else" contains one of U2’s clearest references to Jewish identity:
"Lay down, lay down your guns / All your daughters of Zion / All your Abraham sons."
Here, Zion refers not just to a place, but to the people of Israel. "Daughters of Zion" is a term used throughout the Hebrew Prophets (Isaiah, Zechariah) to refer to the Jewish nation, often in moments of distress or redemption. Meanwhile, Abraham’s sons references the shared ancestry of Jews and Arabs—Abraham fathered both Isaac (the Jewish lineage) and Ishmael (traditionally linked to Arab peoples).
By invoking these figures, Bono delivers a plea for peace, acknowledging the deep historical and religious ties that unite rather than divide. The song speaks not just to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but to any cycle of violence where people have forgotten their shared humanity. It is a prophetic call for reconciliation, much like those found in the Hebrew Bible, where the ultimate vision for Zion is not just a homeland, but a place of peace for all nations (Isaiah 2:4).
U2’s engagement with Jewish themes is more than symbolic—it’s a deep, ongoing dialogue with history, faith, and the human condition. Whether invoking Zion, Yahweh, or the wandering exile, their lyrics echo the voices of prophets, exiles, and seekers who have long grappled with questions of justice, redemption, and belonging.
In drawing from Jewish scripture and tradition, U2 doesn’t just reflect on the past; they use these ancient themes to confront modern struggles, from political conflict to personal doubt. Like the best of Jewish thought, their music doesn’t settle for easy answers—it wrestles, it questions, and it refuses to let go. And in that restless searching, U2’s songs find their own kind of promised land.