[By Avrohom Reit]

The minhag of kaparos, designed to assist us in doing teshuva, has been practiced for centuries if not millennia in practically every Jewish community throughout the world. The minhag is generally practiced by taking a live animal, usually a chicken, and bringing it close to us—uncomfortably close—right over our heads. Within this closeness, however, lies the power of the minhag. A connection is made as the chicken is held and then waved above every person: “This is my exchange; this is my replacement; this is my atonement.” By the time the chicken is handed over to the shochet, and especially if we watch the shechita, we feel deep and powerful pangs of remorse over our misdeeds and a fearful awareness of where our negative actions can lead if we do not better ourselves.

Kaparos has recently been under the scrutiny of well-meaning activists, who do not understand enough about the benefits of the minhag and unfortunately are too quick to dismiss it. While critiques of the way the process is handled at certain kaparos centers may be valid, the purpose of this article is to underscore the value of the minhag, which may be lost in light of the criticism. The minhag still has much to teach us, especially today, in our whitewashed over-sanitized world, where chickens come from cellophane-wrapped packages in the grocery store and we go about our daily business blindly, feeling little relationship between our deeds and their effects.

The first thing to be clear about is that the Torah allows us to use animals for our benefit. Our relationship with them is purposeful. We work the land with them, we ride them, and we eat them. In the process, we are required to be merciful—to feed our animals before we feed ourselves, to relieve an animal staggering under its load, to make sure that two species of different natures are not harnessed together, to shecht animals quickly and with a minimum of pain.

In the case of kaparos, chickens are being used for both a spiritual and physical benefit: to provide inspiration for teshuva as well as food for the needy. The shechita, which would have been justified for the sake of an ordinary meal, is that much more meaningful when it comes to a kapara chicken. When viewing the shechita, the observer is reminded of the corporal punishments the Torah imposes for many crimes. He is shocked into thinking “This could have happened to me.”

There is a side benefit to witnessing the shechita close up, especially in our generation. Not long ago, every Jew had much more experience with the mitzvos of shechita and kisuy hadam, mitzvos that are central to the definition of what a Jew is and how he should behave. According to the Sefer Hachinuch, these mitzvos teach us important lessons in compassion and restraint. A Jew may not eat whatever, wherever or however he wants. He must first choose a healthy animal. Then he must bring it to a specially trained shochet. The shochet must take the time to properly prepare his knife, so that it is sharp enough for the animal to die swiftly and painlessly. The blood of a bird must be covered, and not left in a puddle on the ground, to encourage mindfulness and respect. Afterwards, the carcass must be opened and the innards inspected for ruptures or other disqualifying wounds. The meat must then be salted to remove the blood. All this takes a lot of focused intention and dedication.

Before the modern age of factory processing, if a person wanted to eat chicken he had to bring a live bird to his local shochet. As the shochet would go through the entire procedure with each bird, people had plenty of time to internalize the lessons of each of these mitzvos. With the commercialization of poultry processing, however, production has been moved away from residential areas and these mitzvos have been erased from communal awareness. For many of us today, kaparos is our one opportunity a year to experience these mitzvos first hand and contemplate the lessons they impart, especially those regarding tikun hamidos.

For those who feel sorry for the chicken, the following is important to bear in mind. The goal of every creature is to fulfill the purpose of creation. Kaparos allows the chicken to die, not as a McNugget, but as an instrument for many mitzvos. First, and most importantly, it encourages people to do teshuva. In the process, it also facilitates the many mitzvos involved in shechita, kisuy hadam and kashrus, as well as the brachos that will be made before and after it is eaten. It may be served as part of a seudas mitzvah, and the energy it provides may assist someone in performing other mitzvos. When held in comparison to the other ways the chicken could have met its fate, this is a happy ending.

I am a firm believer in using chickens for kapparos. However, I do have a few h’aros that I would like to address to the administrators of the kaparos centers.

As central and beneficial as this minhag is to our Yom Kippur preparations, it has the potential to backfire. Too often, the yards set up for kaparos are not maintained properly. The noise, crowds and odors offend customers and neighbors alike. Reciting pesukim and brachos in the midst of a dirty and smelly courtyard is certainly problematic. It is unwise to seek Hashem’s forgiveness for our iniquities while committing new ones. Regularly hosing down the chicken crates would eliminate most of the dirt and foul odor.

In the past, people lived with more farm animals and had a better understanding of how to hold and care for them. Today, many people relate to them as if they were alien creatures. Perhaps kaparos centers should train their own staff in how to hold the chickens properly. Even better, they should be staffed with people who can guide customers to hold their chickens properly or at least offer to hold them for the customers.

Some people wonder why they don’t see chickens being fed at kaparos centers. For the sake of sanitation and food safety, the USDA does not allow chickens to be fed for 24 hours prior to shechita. During those 24 hours, a chicken can live on the food which is held in its crop (a holding pouch in a bird’s throat where nutrition is stored). When the chickens leave the farm their crop is full. They slowly ingest this food during their journey to the city and as they wait their turn for kaparos. After shechita, their bodies will be clear of excess waste and contaminates. For these reasons, the proprietor has no interest in last minute feedings and the customer need not worry that the chickens are starving. If chickens are kept for longer than expected, however, they should be fed.

Chazal and the Rishonim were the bearers and interpreters of the Torah in which animal welfare is stressed. The fact that they allowed the minhag shows us that when it is done right, it conforms with or exceeds all reasonable standards for animal welfare. May Hashem help us to perform it properly, grant us forgiveness, and bless us with a good, sweet year.

The author lives in Brooklyn and studies in the kollel of Mesivta Teferes Jerusalem under Hagaon Rav Dovid Feinstein shlita. His recent book on kaparos — Zeh Kaporosi – The Custom of Kaparos — has been published by Mosaica Press. Other works by the author, available through Feldheim Publishers are: Lekicha Tama – A Lulav and Esrog Buying Guide and Teka Beshofar – Mastering Shofar Blowing. A third book, Chalutz Hana’al – A Concise Overview of the Mitzvah of Chalitza, is available directly from the author.

(YWN World Headquarters – NYC)