Tag: St. Patrick's Day

Rabbi Sol Solomon’s Rabbinical Reflection #204 (3/14/2026): BEGORRAH!

This Rabbinical Reflection first aired March 14, 2026 on the Dave’s Gone By video podcast. 

Rabbi Sol’s Rabbinical Reflections are heard on the long-running Dave’s Gone By radio/video podcast program (davesgoneby.com) and then archived as text and audio on the Rebbe’s blog, Shalomdammit.com, where a transcript of this Reflection may be read. 

Rabbi Sol is also the creator of the stage show, “Shalom Dammit! An Evening with Rabbi Sol Solomon,” which played in NYC in Nov. 2011 and Aug. 2012.

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More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com 

 More on Rabbi Sol: shalomdammit.com

TRANSCRIPT:
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for mid-March 2026.

I delight in wishing my Irish viewers – of which I have several, many of them sober – a happy St. Patrick’s Day. Of course, this is not a holiday I celebrate. Patrick was a fifth-century Christian missionary who was kidnapped in England, sent to Ireland, escaped back to England, where he got accused of financial jiggery-pokery. So he hastened back to Ireland and spent his last years baptizing believers and doing whatever missionaries do when they’re not torturing people in Jesus’s name. As Saints go, Paddy was pretty nondescript, but because he helped make Ireland more goyishe, he’s the patron saint of the place. 

The Irish have given us great music, genius plays, warm sweaters. Awright, the food (makes a so-so hand gesture), but it’s definitely a country and a culture to celebrate. That being said, I feel bad for “begorrah.” You’ve heard the phrase: faith and begorrah. “Ooh, Irish Spring soap smells like a dead geranium – faith and begorrah!” “My wife is dragging me to see Riverdance on tour: all three nights. Kill me. Faith and begorrah!” 

“Begorrah” stands in for a mild oath: By God. By gosh. By golly: begorrah. The sad part is you never hear “begorrah” by itself. It’s always with “faith.” Faith and begorrah. After 200 years, I can’t imagine “begorrah” has any self-esteem. Here it is, knocking around with “faith,” and “faith” is a whore. (The word, I mean.) Faith links up with a million words. It’s out on the town with hope and charity. People have blind faith if they have can’t see or Percy Faith if they can’t rock out. You can take a leap of faith or do something in bad faith. “Faith” is faithless. But begorrah? She’s sitting home alone, monogamous, while her partner is out getting shitfaithed. 

Think of begorrah, getting coffee at a Dublin Starbucks. “Your foam latte,“ says barista. “Hey, where’s your better half?” “She’s out.” “Oh, well tell her the gang says `hey.’ She’s the best. No offense.” Poor begorrah shuffles off with her overpriced Mountain Blend. She cries silently in her kitchen, waiting for her partner to return. She flips on the radio only to hear Billy Joel sing, “Keeping the Faith.” “Oh God!”, sobs begorrah. “Who will keep me?”

I make this idiotic spiel because in our lives, we all know faiths and we all know begorrahs. We admire and want to linger in the orbit of faiths who are the life of the party, preternaturally magnetic, effortlessly befriended. Begorrahs? We deal with them when we must, vaguely pitying or patronizing them, wishing they weren’t there. Like street mimes.

Wouldn’t it be nice if sometimes we went to a begorrah and said, “You matter, too. You’re no faith, but you don’t have to be. I’m going to say you all by yourself: `Begorrah, that’s the dumbest TikTok video I’ve ever seen.’ `Begorrah! The dog just crapped on the rug!’” 

See? Begorrah, though Irish, need not be the red-headed stepchild. And since begorrah truly means “by God,” then HaShem has placed this word close to him, and by extension, to us. So this St. Patrick’s Day, when you’re wearing the green, having a pint, making believe you enjoy listening to The Chieftains, spare a Euro for the begorrah at the end of the bar. By my faith, it would be a b’mitzvah.

This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York. Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh!

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