This week’s Torah portion, Vaetchanan, contains perhaps the most recognizable declaration in Jewish tradition:

Hear, O Israel: Adonai is our God, Adonai is One.

The opening word, Shema, is commonly translated as “hear,” but its meaning asks far more of us than simply recognizing sound.

Shema asks us to listen.

To pay attention.

To allow what we hear to shape how we respond.

That distinction matters deeply at summer camp.

Camp is a place filled with sound: songs rising from the dining hall, cheers carrying across the field, laughter from cabins, announcements, prayers, conversations, and the constant energy of young people living closely together.

Yet some of the most important things at camp are not announced loudly.

A camper trying to find the courage to join a group.

A child missing home but unsure how to say it.

A friend whose “I’m fine” does not quite match their expression.

A staff member learning that leadership begins not with having every answer, but with understanding the person standing in front of them.

These moments require more than hearing. They require presence.

Real listening tells another person: You are worth my attention. Your experience matters. You do not have to become louder in order to be seen.

This is one of the quiet ways that camp builds community.

A meaningful camp culture is not created only through beautiful facilities, creative programming, or long-held traditions. Those things are important, but they come alive through relationships.

Camp becomes transformative when people notice one another, make room for one another, and respond with care.

The Shema’s declaration that God is One also reminds us that our lives are connected.

At camp, no person exists entirely on their own. The energy we bring affects the cabin. The words we choose shape the table. The way we welcome a newcomer can influence whether that child experiences camp as simply a place they attended or as a community they will carry with them for the rest of their life.

Listening is part of the stewardship of camp.

It is how counselors learn what their campers need.

It is how leaders understand the people they serve.

It is how institutions remain faithful to their history while continuing to grow.

And it is how a community ensures that its future is informed not only by those who speak most confidently, but also by those whose voices may be quieter.

The responsibility for creating that kind of community does not belong only to those currently living at camp.

It belongs to all of us who believe in what Jewish camp can be.

Parents listen when children return home and try to explain experiences that are difficult to put into words.

Alumni listen for the ways camp has changed while continuing to protect the values that made it meaningful to them.

Supporters listen to the needs of the next generation and help ensure that the opportunity to experience camp remains available to them.

Leaders listen carefully enough to understand that preserving camp does not mean keeping it frozen in time. It means nurturing its roots while making room for new voices, new stories, and new possibilities.

We recite the Shema each day because listening is not something we master once.

We become distracted. We make assumptions. We prepare answers before we fully understand the question.

Then our tradition calls us back.

Listen again.

This week, may we listen not only to the joyful sounds of camp, but also to the quieter voices that shape its future.

May we hear the camper searching for belonging, the staff member growing into leadership, the parent placing trust in our community, and the alumni whose love for Interlaken carries decades of history.

May our listening lead us toward thoughtful action.

May it help us create a camp community where every person knows that they matter, where tradition is honored through continued growth, and where each generation accepts responsibility for the one that will follow.

Listening is not passive.

It is an act of care.

It is an act of leadership.

And it is one of the ways we ensure that the story of Camp Interlaken continues to be heard.

Shabbat shalom.