In each case, at the beginning of the verse, with no immediate subject or object, vayishchat, with its vowels, stands alone. Without vowels, as the word appears in the Torah, it could read instead vayishachet, meaning “it was slaughtered”. And indeed that’s how some translate it anyway, because we can assume it was the ram or bull being slaughtered (by Moses).
Oddly, each time, the grammar seems to set the word – the moment – of slaughtering apart from the rest of the narrative and the action. Even the punctuating trope mark does this, especially on this third culminating occurrence of vayishchat, where it is distinguished with a shalshelet, the remarkable, triple-wavering, emphatic singing note that only occurs three other times in the whole Torah.
But less remarked on is that the shalshelet is always accompanied by a vertical line, a pause, after the word… and the opportunity to take a timeless lesson from this alien ritual. Not just the vowels but also the biblical punctuation always give meaning. As in grammar so in life, the significance of a moment is not just in the emphasis and the length of time that it is given, but in the way that we pause before life continues.