According to some halachic authorities, if one performs shechitah without reciting a brachah, the shechitah is not valid, and the animal may not be eaten. Why?

“…You can slaughter your cattle and your sheep, which Hashem gave you, as I have commanded you… and you can eat… whatever your soul desires.”
(Devarim 12:21)

R

av Yaakov Kamenetsky observes: Although there are brachos that are recited in connection with the performance of many mitzvos, the mitzvah of shechitah, kosher slaughter of an animal, is unique in one respect. It’s well established that if one performs a mitzvah [e.g., putting on tefillin] without reciting the brachah, one has nevertheless fulfilled his duty to perform the mitzvah. Yet according to some halachic authorities, if one performs shechitah without reciting a brachah, the shechitah is not valid, and the animal may not be eaten. Why? (Rabbi Shlomo Katz, Hamaayan)

My husband is a certified shochet. And yes, he’s a redhead. He actually got his certification the day I gave birth to my third child, who also has reddish highlights. So I had a new baby and a new shochet in the family. All in a day’s work.

But since my husband only got the certification because he was in middle of learning those halachos, and never actually practices shechitah, I’m okay with it.

Now, my upstairs neighbor, who is also a redhead, enjoys practicing shechitah. Upstairs. In his garden. Above my head. It’s a good thing the two families are close.

Rav Kamenetsky suggests the following answer: Before an animal is shechted, there are two prohibitions that prevent us from eating it. One is the prohibition of eiver min hachai, eating from a live animal. The second prohibition is that of einah zevuchah, eating an animal whose life ended through any means other than proper shechitah.

The first prohibition, of eiver min ha’chai, is no longer relevant once the animal is no longer living. It makes no difference how the animal died.

However, the second prohibition, of einah zevuchah, can only be avoided by performing the mitzvah of shechitah; any other way of killing the animal would not suffice.

Moreover, even if one were to perform the act of shechitah perfectly, but stated that he wasn’t doing it for the mitzvah, presumably the animal would not be considered as having received a kosher shechitah.

One summer, I was expecting (a different child, not said redhead). I opened my front door one afternoon to step outside, and there was my neighbor, right in front of me, heading up the stairs of my building, holding… a live sheep under his arm. I slammed the door shut and nearly fainted, leaning against it in a desperate attempt not to lose my lunch.

My boys came running as they heard the sheep’s bleating. Barreling past me, they ran upstairs to catch the action.

Apparently my neighbor, who was a rebbi, had invited his whole class over to a siyum. They had learned the halachos of shechitah and were celebrating with… hands-on practice.

My boys were thrilled and invited themselves to join. (What are boys made of? Much more than snails and puppy dog tails! Sheep’s wails?)

Rav Kamenetsky adds: According to Rav Dovid Halevi ztz”l (the “Taz”), the same concept applies to the mitzvah of reading Megillas Esther. If one doesn’t make the brachah before the reading, it’s as if he didn’t fulfill the mitzvah. The Megillah tells a nice story, but there are no obvious miracles described there. Thus, in order to fulfill the mitzvah of publicizing G-d’s miracles, which is the purpose of reading the Megillah, one must announce that he is reading for that purpose.

So too, here, our Sages established the brachah as a declaration that the one slaughtering the animal intends to perform not just the act of shechitah, but also the mitzvah.

Trying to ignore the festivities above me, I holed myself up in my room with earplugs, refusing to even imagine what was going on above my head.

My neighbor offered us a fresh piece of kosher lamb’s meat for our cholent. He was lucky that all I did was shake my head weakly.

But my boys were totally psyched from the whole experience! Ma, why don’t we do anything fun like that at home?

And when my husband got home, he was so sorry he missed the opportunity! “A chance to do real live [dead?] shechitah with a brachah?”

I failed to share his excitement. Then again, I’m not a redhead.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 855)