Carmel at Crossroads: Spirituality and Technology

I am a Carmelite nun, a calling that often evokes images of solitude and silence; a contemplative life of withdrawal from the world.

Yet somehow, I have not been able to escape the world of technology. And even though it seems entirely contradictory to the life I have chosen, technology allows me to connect externally with the world I carry in my heart in prayer.

An early calling

I was born into a musical family — the seventh of 10 children — yet alongside my obvious musical trajectory was a sense of feeling called to be a religious sister from as far back as I can remember. In fact, I can’t remember ever NOT feeling that I would one day be a sister.

I studied piano and cello from an early age, and after graduating from Indiana University with a Bachelor of Music in cello performance, went the route of a professional orchestral-chamber musician. But I knew I would not be at peace until I explored religious life.

Eventually, my search ended at the Seattle Carmelite monastery.

When I walked through the cloister doors in 1982, I was almost 28 years old. I began to learn about liturgy and to discover a rich musical heritage in the church, further expanding my musical horizons.

My monastic mentor

From my earliest days in Carmel, I bonded with Therese of Lisieux, the young French Carmelite saint, as my mentor and friend. When the Carmelite Order wanted to celebrate her 100th anniversary of death in 1997, I offered to compose a hymn in gratitude for her profound influence in my own life.

Therese’s Canticle of Love was the result.

What I intended as a simple hymn for St. Therese became well known and eventually published. I recently learned that a YouTube channel featuring my hymn has received more than 34,000 views.What a surprise!

Shortly thereafter, St. Luke Productions approached me and asked me to write the musical score to the movie Therese.

How was it possible? I never took a composition class in my life! I simply offered Jesus my five barley loaves and two fish, and he has multiplied them for the crowds.

With many community responsibilities to juggle, I knew I had to find a faster way to turn out a score and parts. I had heard of a music program that could allow me to actually play the music into the score. I researched and found a 1-month summer course offered in Seattle where I could learn the Finale program.

Turning to technology

After my community agreed I should pursue the coursework, I remember going to my room and crying. It was another threshold. I thought I left those behind me when I crossed the threshold of the monastery in 1982.

I was afraid.

I had been in the cloister for 15 years. I liked things the way they were. This was a huge stretch beyond my comfort zone. It challenged my image of Carmel as I had understood it up to that time.

It meant leaving the cloister and entering the academic world again — in full habit. It meant learning a computer program and composing a movie score. The whole thing was too much!

So I cried it out. Peace came. I took a deep breath and jumped.

Some in the monastery found this work disrupting. I was constantly getting calls; the monastery call bell rang continuously; I oftentimes had to forego meals or prayer with the community to meet deadlines; my father was working with me on the scores in the monastery’s back room.

Keep in mind: All of this was happening before the advent of email and cell phones.

I forged ahead and successfully composed the score. Then in 2001, I transferred to Carmel of Reno.

Another leap…

Planting the seeds of the virtual choir

It all started with a casual conversation I shared with Dolora Zajick — a world-renowned mezzo-soprano who befriended our Carmelite community — standing in the hall of our monastery in 2012.

For some time, Dolora and I had been looking for someone to make a significant musical contribution to the 500th anniversary of the birth of St. Teresa of Avila. Dolora suggested we do it ourselves: She would compose an opera scene for Teresa and I would compose “some hymns.” We’d plan a CD of music around Carmelite themes.

Then one day, while we were working at the computer together, Dolora asked, “Have you ever heard of Lux Aurumque?”

“Lux what?” I asked.

“Here. Put this into Google,” she said, and spelled it for me.

I couldn’t believe what I saw, what I heard. It was my first experience witnessing a virtual choir. Wow!

“Couldn’t you just imagine a group of Carmelite nuns from all over the world singing in a virtual choir?” she said, eyes twinkling.

The seed was planted. The thought germinated for a year before I brought it to the committee planning a national celebration for St. Teresa’s 500th birthday in San Jose. I was convinced they would dismiss me as a lunatic.

They didn’t.

Instead, they asked me to find out what I could. Who can do this? What would it cost? What would be involved?

Yet another leap.

It took a few months of conversations and emails, shot off between composing, CD plans, community responsibilities and work related to the San Jose celebration.

Finally, I found Scott Haines — the actual producer of Lux Aurumque — live and in person!

Would he do it? Yes! Was it possible? Sure! Did we have the money? No! But three months later, it came. Another door opened. Another miracle dropped in our laps.

And so the work began…

Preparing for the party

In preparation for the celebration for St. Teresa’s 500th birthday in San Jose, I’m averaging about 40-50 emails daily. Dolora is performing in Barcelona while we’re completing the editing of a CD we’re working on thousands of miles apart! The recording engineer in Seattle sends edits by email. We exchange comments by email and keep moving ahead.

And all of this can be done without disrupting the quiet of the monastery, as contacts use my personal iPhone number rather than the monastery number.

I am part of a panel of nuns preparing a PowerPoint for the San Jose celebration, and we are from all across the U.S. We’ve been working together on Google Hangouts for over a year now, connecting the five of us from New York, Massachusetts, Indiana, Nevada and California. We’ve learned how to use Dropbox to store hundreds of photos for the PowerPoint.

I’m also part of a leadership team of Carmelite nuns who use Google Hangouts to meet, connecting us from Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Maryland and Nevada without ever having to leave our monasteries. We use Google Docs and Google tag lists to plan our meetings, set agendas, share documents and write letters that each of us can edit online. It’s fantastic!

Then, of course, the virtual choirs: Carmelites from anywhere in the world where computer and internet access are available can log onto Scott’s website, listen to a recording of the piece, download the part, learn how to pronounce the text, hear what the conductor has to say about its performance, sing their part — and then submit it, thus becoming part of a world-wide choir of Carmelites.

And all without having to leave the quiet space of their own monasteries. Incredible!

I think St. Teresa would be thrilled to see her daughters and sons united in one choir of praise to God. As of today, more than 250 Carmelite voices are joining from 23 countries to comprise the virtual choir.

The calling continues

Has this stretched me? You bet! When I entered a cloistered monastery, I expected to disappear. And that was just fine by me.

But instead, I’ve felt called out in ways that I never could have imagined.

Had I realized what composing Therese’s Canticle of Love would have led to — I probably never would have had the courage to put the first note on the page. There were the recording sessions where I worked with friends who had known me as a professional cellist — not a composer and certainly not a nun. There were articles, an NPR interview, a live radio broadcast in Seattle.

And the build-up and aftermath of STJ500 in San Jose promises the same level of exposure with an even more global impact. Without the Internet, without computers, without smart phones and emails, without musical production software and Google hangouts, achieving the sheer scope we intend for this project would be impossible.

Yes, I’m a nun. And yes, I love that technology is a tool that allows me to spread the message of Carmelite spirituality and tell the stories of our traditions through music and more.

It is all amazing. But then again: God is amazing!

For more information about the STJ500 San Jose celebration, visit www.stj500westernus.com.

Follow the STJ500 San Jose event on Twitter at @STJ500WesternUS; subscribe to the YouTube channel here; and “Like” the Facebook page here

image: Renata Sedmakova / Shutterstock.com

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Claire Sokol, OCD, was born into a musical family in Seattle. She earned a Bachelor of Music Degree in cello performance from Indiana University, and after graduating, became a member of the Omaha, Winnipeg and Vancouver, BC symphony orchestras. She entered the Discalced Carmelite Order in 1982. In 1996, Sr. Claire composed Therese's Canticle of Love, a choral work in honor of St. Therese of Lisieux, which was later expanded into a film score for the movie Therese. She currently serves on the leadership team of the Carmelite Association and continues to use her musical gifts as composer, liturgist, pianist and cellist at Carmel of Reno, Nev., her home. Several of Sr. Claire’s choral compositions are available through GIA Publications and Oregon Catholic Press.

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