Hallelujah: The Word Used by Everybody

There are certain words in life that just don’t know how to quit. “YOLO.” “Literally.” “Whatever.” And, of course, the granddaddy of them all: Hallelujah.

Now, “hallelujah” started out as a perfectly respectable Hebrew word. It literally means praise God. Simple, direct, holy. The kind of thing you’d shout in synagogue after the rabbi finally announces the Kiddush is ready and there are rugelach involved.

But then something happened. The word escaped the synagogue. Suddenly hallelujah was showing up everywhere—church choirs, gospel songs, Broadway musicals, that one friend who gets a good parking spot. (“Front row at Costco on a Sunday? Hallelujah!”)

And then along came Leonard Cohen Leonard Cohen - Unisex soft T-shirt, Perfect Gift for Friends – Oy Vey.

Let’s be honest: before Cohen, hallelujah was just another word in the religious section of the dictionary. After Cohen? It became a career. His hauntingly beautiful (and sometimes confusing) song “Hallelujah” has been covered more times than Adele has been asked if she’s okay. Everyone has their own version—Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright, k.d. lang, that guy at every wedding who swears he can hit the high notes (spoiler: he cannot).

Cohen took “hallelujah” from synagogue and church pews and dropped it right into pop culture, where it now lives rent-free. You hear it at weddings, funerals, movie montages, reality TV auditions—basically, if someone is crying on screen, chances are “Hallelujah” is playing in the background.

But here’s the funny thing: Cohen’s “Hallelujah” isn’t exactly a hallelujah in the “praise God” sense. It’s more like: love is complicated, life is messy, but hey—hallelujah anyway. Which, if you think about it, is probably the most Jewish interpretation possible.

So what’s the moral here? Next time you hear someone say “hallelujah,” remember: it’s not just a word. It’s a prayer, a pop song, and a cosmic eye-roll at the chaos of life—all rolled into one.

And to Leonard Cohen, who gave us the most Canadian-Jewish-folk-poetic version of the word possible, we say: Hallelujah, and thanks.