Fr. Harold F Cohen, S.J.

Prior to His ascension Jesus told His apostles, “Before many days you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” He added, “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses” (Acts 1:5-8). The Apostles prayed for the coming of the Holy Spirit with Mary, the mother of Jesus, and a group of about one hundred and twenty. On Pentecost they were “baptized with the Holy Spirit” and were transformed into new creatures, bold witnesses for Christ.

Pentecost comes to each of us in the Sacraments of Initiation: Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist. In Baptism we receive the Holy Spirit and become God’s children and members of the body of Christ. In Confirmation we receive a new fullness of the Spirit and are empowered to serve the Church and bear witness to Jesus.

Often we do not allow the Spirit we have received to be as active in us as He wants to be. To use an analogy, He is like chocolate syrup poured into a glass of milk–it goes to the bottom of the glass until stirred up. But when it is stirred up, it permeates the milk and transforms it into something new. We can learn how to “stir up” the Spirit–and how to receive more of Him–from Jesus in the Gospels:

“If anyone thirst, let him come to Me, let him drink who believes in Me. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of His heart shall flow rivers of living water.’ Now He said this about the Spirit which those who believed in Him were to receive” (John 7:37-39). “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him!” (Luke 11:13)

The Lord teaches us that first we must thirst for God; we must desire more and more of His Spirit. Then we must believe that Jesus is faithful to His promises and will indeed give us His Holy Spirit. Finally, we must ask God for the Holy Spirit. We must pray with perseverance, asking, seeking, knocking, believing that “everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened” (Luke 11:10). We can follow the example of the early Church by praying for the Spirit in union with Mary and the apostles as they did at the first Pentecost (see Acts 1:12-14).

What can we expect when we are “baptized with the Holy Spirit” ? We can expect an immediate or gradual experience of deeper union with God, our loving Father and with Jesus, our Lord and Friend; a fresh appreciation of Scripture; a greater love for others and a desire for Christian fellowship; the fuller presence in our lives of the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience and more (see Galatians 5:22-23); the receptions of one or more of the Charismatic gifts of the Spirit such as discernment, service, prophecy, praying in tongues, healing (see 1 Corinthians 12-14). This gift of a new fullness of the Holy Spirit is, I believe, the grace of our age. “Ask and it willbe given to you!”

by Harold Cohen, S.J.

Reflections on the Life of Fr. Harold F. Cohen, S.J.

by Al Mansfield

I knew and worked with Fr. Cohen for over 30 years in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal. I realize that today in some way I represent and speak for the myriads of lay people who knew and loved Fr. Cohen. I am honored and humbled to do so.

Fr. Cohen has been to me at various times, a father, a brother, a boss, a confessor, a counselor, and most of all, a friend. Scripture says, “there is a friend who is closer than a brother.” Fr. Cohen was that kind of friend.

His early life was interesting, to say the least. He started out attending public school. He did not make his First Communion until seventh grade, and that was largely due to his devout grandmother. In his early years his father was non-practicing Catholic and his mother a lapsed Episcopalian.

Fr. Cohen once said that a fellow Jesuit told him, “Abie, if you’re ever tempted to doubt your vocation, don’t. Because your home life wasn’t exactly the kind you would expect a priest to come from. It had to be a special grace of God.”

I should hasten to say that when Fr. Cohen entered the Jesuits, his father returned to the sacraments and became an exemplary Catholic and retreat captain. His mother later became a devout Catholic. She was a truly remarkable and lovely person, very proud of her priest-son.

If only half the stories I’ve heard are true, Harold had a fun-loving youth. Apparently, he was a good dancer and enjoyed parties, girls and pranks. He used to tend bar at his parents’ parties. He was not a stranger to Penance Hall at Jesuit.

Fr. Cohen related to me that one day when in high school he had been punished for some mischief he had done and one of his teachers, a Jesuit, tried to talk to him. He said, “Cohen, you’re always in trouble, always messing around. You’d better change directions. What are you going to do with your life, anyway?” Harold said, “Well, I’m thinking of becoming a Jesuit priest.” He said the teacher looked a little shocked and walked away.

And become a Jesuit priest he did. As a priest he was a popular preacher and teacher as well as a gifted and sought-after confessor and counselor.

Fr. Cohen contributed a personal testimony for a book my wife wrote and entitled his testimony “Life begins at Forty.” In April of 1969 Fr. Cohen received prayer for a greater release of the Holy Spirit in his life. I would like to quote from the testimony in Fr. Cohen’s own words:

(After the prayer for the Baptism in the Spirit) “When we parted, I sensed God’s presence in a gentle way. But later that night when I went to pray in the chapel, I felt a depth in prayer I hadn’t experienced in years. From that time on, my prayer changed considerably. As a priest this is what I was longing for. I have been much more faithful to seeking God in prayer since receiving the Baptism in the Spirit. This has been a tremendous grace in my life and in my priesthood.

“Since 1969 I have seen a number of effects of a new fullness of the Holy Spirit in my life. The main effect is in my ministry. Before the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, I often felt I was trying to minster out of my own strength. I realize that now the Lord is doing more and I am doing less. His power and His gifts are more of a reality in my life. I feel that through my ministry, the Spirit touched many people to commit their lives to Jesus Christ as Lord. He has used me to help people live out their Christian commitment in an on-going way.

“After receiving the Baptism in the Spirit the Lord used me to start to large prayer groups in the New Orleans area. Doors opened for me to bring the charismatic renewal to various places in the Southern United States as well as Mexico, South America, Central America Hawaii and Australia. I feel privileged to be part of the great movement of God’s Spirit on the face of the earth today.”

What will I remember most about Fr. Harold Cohen?

-First of all, his faithfulness. He was faithful to the Lord, to the Church, to the priesthood and to his Jesuit order. In a world where faithfulness is often in short supply, he remained faithful to the end and model to us all.

-Secondly, I will remember his care and compassion to all, especially those most in need of God’s mercy and ours…the poor (both spiritually and materially), the sick, the disadvantaged, “the least of the brethren.”

-Thirdly, I will remember his zeal. Like the prophet Elijah, he was zealous for the Lord God of hosts. Zeal for God’s house consumed him. He was zealous to preach the gospel, to evangelize the whole world. This is what led him to media evangelization – first on radio and then on television in Closer Walk Ministries in both English and Spanish.

-Fourthly, I will remember his prayerfulness, his God-centeredness. I would compare him to a compass. Just as a compass is magnetically drawn to always point north, Fr. Cohen seemed to have an inner compass, which somehow always seemed to point to the Lord in every situation.

His greatest desire was to lift Jesus higher. My wife Patti had a prophetic intuition to put on the cover of our conference brochure a beautiful picture of Fr. Cohen holding up the Blessed Sacrament in the monstrance. This brochure will be mailed to over 20,000 homes tomorrow, the day of his funeral Mass.

Fr. Cohen was a spiritual man, every inch a priest. But he was fully human, too, and a lot of fun to be with. He had a booming laugh, enjoyed corny jokes and singing, albeit a half-tone off key. He loved old spirituals and the more sentimental, the better. Years ago, he made Patti and me promise to sing one such hymn, “I Come to the Garden,” at his funeral. His dad used to sing the song and Harold loved it. He reminded us of our promise just a few weeks ago, and we’ll try to keep that promise tonight.

Many times during our relationship I had occasion to note the differences between us. He had a quality of childlikeness, of guilelessness, a simplicity that I occasionally found exasperating because, I think, I secretly envied it.

He had a kind of boldness, a freedom and sense of adventure that contrasted with my cautious, conservative nature. In fact, I once had a dream that Fr. Cohen was crossing a river on a high wire and I was standing on the shore begging him not to do it. (As I recall, he did it anyway!)

To walk through an airport with Fr. Cohen was an adventure. He would speak to everybody – the elderly, mothers with children, clerks, cops -you name it – all the while handing out Divine Mercy pictures and inviting people to take a closer walk with Jesus. I would wonder if we would ever make our flight on time.

When I was younger, I would feel our differences much more keenly. As I grew older, I began to treasure them because they showed the unique personality of Harold F. Cohen, S.J.

All those who were around Fr. Cohen for any length of time knew of his desire and prayer to be a martyr. He had a great admiration for and devotion to Blessed Miguel Pro, the Jesuit martyred in Mexico in the twenties. I said to him once, “Harold, you catch colds easily, you have a weak stomach, you’ve got a frail constitution – are you sure you want to pray for martyrdom?” He laughed and said, “I’m not necessarily praying to be tortured, just shot, like Miguel Pro.” On the surface, it would seem that prayer went unanswered but I am not so sure. Since there is such a thing as baptism by desire, I wonder if there is not also a martyrdom by desire. I have never met anyone who desired martyrdom that much and his fatal disease was a martyrdom of sorts in the offering he made of it.

Patti and I knew he had a serious disease but even so, his health declined much more rapidly than we thought it would. We were in fairly close contact during the holidays and he spent several hours at our home on New Year’s Eve. Patti and I brought him to Ochsner Clinic on January 10. He was weak and short of breath but managed to eat a ham sandwich and commented on how he had rediscovered how good Coke was. We spoke of many things that day – not serious things, but everyday things- from the New Orleans Saints’ great season, to his favorite songs, to how much he liked Meg Ryan in “You’ve Got Mail.” Even though his body was weak, he was in exceptionally good spirits. As we left the doctor’s office, despite the devastating news he had just received, Harold maintained his peace and joy. He struck up a conversation with every mother and child he passed and commented on how good it was for us to spend the day together. Nothing daunted his gentle and loving spirit.

He moved across the river on Friday, January 12 to Ignatius Residence. I see something symbolic in the fact that he crossed over the river to die. Old gospel songs speak of death as “crossing the river”. Fr. Cohen used to pray on the banks of the Mississippi River. He told us that the early Spanish explorers called it “the river of the Holy Spirit.” I read once that the early Jesuit missionaries called it “the river of the Immaculate Conception.” He has now crossed the river for the last time into glory.

As he grew closer to the end, my wife Patti took the initiative to solicit prayers from literally all over the world. When people heard the news about Fr. Cohen’s illness, notes of concern and promises of prayers poured in from Jesuits and charismatic groups all over the United States and abroad.

I remembered reading that when St. Ignatius Loyola was on his deathbed, he told his assistant, Polanco, to get a blessing from the pope. Polanco thought there was more time and did not go immediately. However, Ignatius died that night without ever receiving the pope’s blessing. The idea occurred to us to e-mail a friend of ours in the Vatican Secretariat of State to request the blessing of the Holy Father for Fr. Cohen. We did that just days before Harold’s death and were so grateful to know that Fr. Cohen’s name was placed in the Holy Father’s hands and the papal blessing was given. Our friend in the Vatican sent the following email: “The message did get to the Holy Father and the letter was sent…the very day news of Fr. Cohen’s death reached me…so the prayers now ask that Fr. Cohen rest peacefully in the merciful embrace of the Father. And the blessing goes with him into eternity and also touches those who are mourning in the hope of the Resurrection” (signed) Msgr. Mark Coleridge.

Finally, we all know how closely identified Fr. Cohen was with the song “Just a Closer Walk With Thee.” He longed to have a Closer Walk with Jesus. But Scripture also speaks “of running the race” and racing toward the goal which is life on high with Christ. It seemed to us that Fr. Cohen picked up the pace as he got near the finish line – he went from taking just A Closer Walk to racing toward Jesus who I’m sure welcomed his servant with open arms.

Many years ago Fr. Cohen told Patti that when he got to heaven he hoped that he could come down to console his friends, just like one of his favorite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux. May God grant him this desire of his heart. We love you, Harold, and we’ll miss you.

Reflections of Jack Deeves, S.J. 

Harold and I grew up on the same block of Joseph St. He and I became acquainted when we were only four years old. Harold lived in the Prytania apartments on the corner of Joseph and Prytania. I lived 5 houses away at 1334 Joseph.

Harold was the only child of Harold and Sarah Cohen, a couple much younger than my own parents. The Cohens’ apartment was small, only 4 rooms. Harold and I spent quite a bit of time in his room with Binky, his dog. I recall an early traumatic time when Harold swallowed a quarter. We played football in the lot between his apartment and the house adjacent. We also played often in the street and in the yards on our block. We played some rough games, including using guns we made from old orange crates that shot stretched pieces of strips of auto inner tubes. We made china berry guns that shot these berries that came from the tree in front of Janet Levy’s house. At school we played “dens”, using the hexagonal benches that enclosed crepe myrtle trees. These also were very rough games, and often we tore our clothes as we struggled to throw one another into the dens.

Harold and I attended McDonogh #14 public grade school for the entire elementary years, including kindergarten. Harold was somewhat pugnacious until he was about 11 yrs-old. When he was in the 7th grade he began to go to church at St. Stephen’s and at Holy Name, where he became an altar boy. I think he was the only public school altar boy. He became a good friend of the Holy Name schoolboys. He was particularly close to the Charbonnets, and later at Jesuit he dated one of the girls in that family, Doris, I recall. In the 6th grade we began to call Harold “Jakie” and then later “Abie.”

Harold and I were fortunate to have some wonderful teachers at McDonogh 14, notably Miss Cahill and Miss Kepler. Miss Kepler must have been one of the very best English teachers in New Orleans. When we go to Jesuit, I realized how much she had taught us, and that we often knew more than boys who had gone to Catholic grade schools. Miss Kepler was a Lutheran who converted to Catholicism some years later. She attended the first solemn Masses of both of us.

Harold was going to attend Fortier, but my parents and I persuaded his parents and Harold to go to Jesuit. I did not want to be the only boy from my school at Jesuit, and he was my best friend. We entered Jesuit in September, 1941. We were very proud to be in what we considered to be the best school in Louisiana. All of our teachers were men, only the librarian was a woman. Jesuit was the most formidable athletic school in the state, and we won the state championship in football when we were freshman. Harold and I attended every game, including the one against Baton Rouge High at LSU stadium. We rode a special Blue Jay train to BR for that game.

When the war began, Harold and I rode our bicycles to the Japanese consulate on St. Charles Avenue on December 8th, a holiday for the feast day. We were curious, but were turned back by a policeman and told to go home.

When Jesuit began a scrap metal drive, challenging Warren Easton High School, Harold and I discovered a large amount of short pieces of angle iron under the old Loyola football stadium, which bordered the fence between Loyola and Tulane. We loaded about 200 pounds of the angle iron into my brother’s wagon, conveniently placed on the Tulane side of the cyclone fence. We never thought we were doing anything wrong, in fact we thought we were heroes. After all, didn’t Loyola want to beat Hitler? We were both 13 yrs-old.

Harold and I did well in Freshman year, and we were both invited into the Honor Class in our sophomore year. We remained in that class together until our graduation.

When the Marine military unit began in early 1943, we wore Marine green uniforms, complete with overseas caps. Harold had his washed in hot water. It shrunk and from then on was too small to fit on his head, and just perched on top. Harold was often forced to march in the “dumbbell platoon”. Mr. Dan O’Callaghan, S.J., who was in charge of the platoon, asked Harold what he was going to do with his life. Harold politely answered him that he was thinking of becoming a Jesuit.

In our Junior year Harold and I were taught by Mr. Malachy Cutcliff, S.J. who urged us to sell more pre-game football tickets than other classes, so that we could win a prize. Harold and I took large numbers of discounted pre-game tickets to sell at  the Holy Cross game at a higher price. The pre-game price was 60 cents, at gate price was one dollar. Scalping was not allowed at Jesuit, but we wanted to help our class, and make some money, so we did it. I hid behind trees and timidly offered my tickets for 80 cents, but Harold began to sell them right in the ticket line for more than a dollar. He was a great seller, but was caught by Fr. David Lorig, S.J., and spent Monday afternoon in penance hall.

In senior year Harold was a favorite of Fr. Entz, S.J., an older Jesuit who taught us English, Latin, and Religion. The boys in 4A really admired Harold, but kidded him a lot. Harold by this time had developed that great laugh, and that was his only response when he was kidded. In our spring retreat at Manresa Harold and I both decided to enter the Jesuits. We could not wait to tell each other, meeting on the front lawn of Manresa.

In the Novitiate, Harold had a profound experience in our 30-day retreat. For a time, he experienced a time of scruples, but overcame that before we made our vows. In the Juniorate, our 2 years of studies in the humanities at Grand Coteau, Harold had a difficult time with both Greek and Latin. While we were in the Juniorate, Harold had Fr. Clifford McLaughlin talk to his father. His father then came back to an extraordinarily strong practice of his faith. Harold’s father raised money for many good causes in New Orleans. When asking for donations, he would remind potential donors that “there are no pockets in shrouds.”

In June, 1949, we moved over to Spring Hill College in Mobile, Alabama. Our years there were a wonderful experience for both of us. We studied philosophy in our own building, and attended classes with the college students, all males at that time, in order to get our college degrees. Companionship with Jesuits from many other provinces was a part of our life. We recreated at the Jesuit villa on the eastern shore of Mobile Bay, and several times went swimming in the Gulf at Gulf Shores. Harold’s father worked on Film Row in New Orleans, and sent us two films every month to use in our little Jesuit theatre.

Harold and I were the only ones who were sent to teach at Tampa Jesuit in 1952. It was a very small and very poor school, but we enjoyed teaching immensely. Harold taught English and Spanish and was in charge of drama. Harold and I became even closer, as we were only 4 scholastics in the community.

When for one of his plays Harold needed a desk I suggested he use his own desk from his bedroom. Harold pointed out that there was a very large pile of various things on top of his desk. “What shall we do with it?” he asked. I suggested the only thing we could do was to dump it onto the floor. We both laughed for minutes. Another time Harold was putting on a talent show at the Federated Women’s Club auditorium. In one act the boys threw a blackberry pie that accidentally hit the red velvet curtain at the rear of the stage. Harold was so embarrassed by this that he did not want to face the ladies the next day. He sent me to make the apologies and to promise to have the curtain cleaned.

When Harold’s mother and father would visit, they would stay at the Tampa Terrace hotel, across the street from our residence. Harold’s mother would laugh and  lift her glass to toast a very visible water tower in the shape of a whiskey bottle, complete with its Seagram’s Seven Crown emblem.

During these 3 years Harold became interested in astronomy. Once when he and Fr. Boggs and two other scholastics got lost on a highway on their way to a football game, Harold got out and redirected them after finding the North Pole star.

In 1955, Harold and I were separated for the first time in our lives. He went to Spain for theology studies, and I went to St. Mary’s Kansas. Harold would write to me about his new experiences in northern Spain. The Theologate at Ona in Spain was a place of sparse food. The large dining hall was not heated. Harold wore out an overcoat he wore while eating. Harold wrote to me that once he got on his knees and begged the rector for permission to go out into the marketplace to buy a few bananas. When Harold left Tampa he was quite overweight. When he returned from Spain he had lost all those extra pounds.

Harold was never able to sing on key, and he was amused to hear little catechism children in Spain singing “Jingle Bells” in the same off-key tune that he had used.  Harold’s father died suddenly of heart attack in October 1956. The Jesuit provincial had warned Harold that if he decided to go to Spain, he would not be allowed to come back for a funeral if his father had more heart trouble and died. Harold did not come back, but did return in the summer of 1957 to be with us at St. Mary’s for his final two years. Harold told me that when he was taking the launch out from the port of Algeciras to board the United States ship Independence he was moved to tears at the sight of the American flag on the stern. He also told me that he raced up the boarding stairway and ran directly to the dining room where he ordered bacon and eggs, something that was never served at Ona in Spain.

I noted a distinct change in Harold. He had become a superb scholar of Theology, very well read, and reasoning with depth about theological matters. The dean asked him if he would like to return to St. Mary’s and teach. Harold thought the food at St. Mary’s was great, something that none of the rest of us 155 theology students could agree with. Harold made many new friends. Our companions at St. Mary’s were wonderful and very wholesome Jesuits.

We were ordained as a New Orleans Province group at Spring Hill College on June 18, 1958. There were 9 of us. Harold and I were in each other’s first public solemn Masses at Holy Name in New Orleans the following Sunday. We returned to St. Mary’s for our final year as priests.

When we departed together in June of 1959, Harold insisted that we stop in Kansas City so that he could call Lillian Roth, a singer and movie star. She had written a book about her alcoholic addiction, I’ll Cry Tomorrow. She was staying in KC at a hotel, and Harold was able to reach her and talk to her before her performance that night. I believe Miss Roth was Jewish, and Harold reminded her that his name was Jewish.

Harold went to Tertianship at Port Townsend, Washington, for a year, and then began teaching at Jesuit High in New Orleans. Some time later he went to Scranton University to get a degree in Psychology and I believe, Counseling. Then he began teaching at Loyola.

In 1969 he became very interested in the Charismatic Renewal. By his own testimony Harold experienced a profound and lasting “fuller release of the Holy Spirit” in his soul. He became so involved in this that he began to hold large prayer meetings on the Loyola campus, and later at other locations in New Orleans. He decided to give up teaching when his new ministry became so large that he could no longer devote enough time to teaching. One night after returning to Loyola after a late night plane trip, he realized that a large pile of final exams awaited him in his little room in Thomas Hall. Grades were due the following morning. Harold told me he prayed, then turned his back and shoved all the exams into the wastebasket. He knew his students very well, and turned in his grades the next day. No one ever complained about the grades he gave.

When Harold’s mother died, I went to Pass Christian, Mississippi with Fr. Greg Curtin and my sister-in-law. Harold allowed me to speak at the vigil service. I remember well her tiny form in a very simple casket. I was reminded of that when I saw that Harold was going to be buried in a similar casket.

Harold called me about 13 years ago and insisted that I come to New Orleans to celebrate a night at Brennan’s Restaurant, which closed its doors to its ordinary patrons in order to have a special fund-raiser for Harold’s Closer Walk Ministries. I went, and was amazed to see all the people who came in, and their very affectionate and appreciative greetings of Harold at the door. After the dinner we went out to the patio where there was a special band. We danced and did “second-lining” complete with colorful umbrellas.

Something I did not add previously – Harold was one of the most gracious and hospitable members of the Loyola community. He always greeted visitors in the dining room, and there were many visitors.

Harold was much moved by the death of our classmate Fr. Emile Pfister. I became aware that he was grieving his death very much.

Harold’s little bedroom, very little, was on the fourth floor of Thomas Hall. The ceiling was partly inclined downward, to accommodate the sloping roof above. His room was extremely simple.

Like his mother, Harold died with very few material goods surrounding him.  About six weeks before he died, I called Harold to ask for prayers for an urgent intention. His voice bore the sounds of his lung problem. I asked him what was wrong. He then asked for my prayers, but I did not get the impression that the problem was as serious as it was.

In October of 1988 I suffered a major heart attack. I was told that I would not survive a year without a heart transplant. Harold flew to Dallas on June 16th to spend the weekend with me and say a final goodbye. I had lost 70 pounds and knew I did not have much time left. When we were leaving the Jesuit residence to go to the airport, we were already out of the back door when Harold said, “Let’s go back into the chapel.” There he knelt while I sat. Harold prayed out loud to Our Lady that I would be able to get a heart transplant. I was deeply moved by the devotion and trust that he showed in the Blessed Virgin.

At 11:10 P.M. that night my hospital beeper went off. I called and Doctor Steves Ring, the St. Paul transplant surgeon told me that there was a heart available for me. I called Harold at that late hour and told him. He said “Praise the Lord!”

Postscript: Fr. John Edwards told me that Harold wanted to be sure to get to Ignatius Residence, our infirmary, in time for Mass. Also, Fr. Earl Johnson, a member of our class, told me at the vigil that Harold was unable to speak, but lifted Fr. Earl’s hand to his lips and kissed the hand. This was shortly before he died.

Harold was very simple, very saintly, but also very human.

Peace to all.

A Personal Testimony About The Baptism in the Holy Spirit

by Fr. Harold F. Cohen, S.J.

I remember that when I was a youngster my father used to refer to a book entitled Life Begins at Forty. Well, for me, life actually did begin anew at forty. It was on my fortieth birthday that I was giving a retreat for college students from Loyola University in New Orleans. After the night’s activities I slipped away from the students and walked outside by myself. I was dissatisfied with my life as a priest because I felt I wasn’t praying as I should. I also knew I was too self-centered. As I walked, I asked the Lord to change me because I knew I couldn’t make the necessary changes on my own. I reminded the Lord about His promise in Ephesians 3:20, “His power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.”

Some months passed and one day a young man named Jim came from Fordham University in New York to see me. He was being interviewed as a candidate for the Southern Province of the Society of Jesus. I was one of the interviewers. Jim belonged to what was then called a Catholic Pentecostal prayer group at Fordham. I had read about Catholic Pentecostals in 1967 and was intrigued. Even though I desired to go to a prayer meeting some day, I suspected that I would feel somewhat threatened by it. I pictured myself standing on the fringes observing.

When I first met with Jim, I decided to talk about the pentecostal movement in the Catholic Church just to break the ice. This was Good Friday, 1969. Afterwards I conducted the interview for the Jesuits. When we got together again on Easter Monday I asked more questions about the Baptism in the Holy Spirit. Jim explained that he didn’t consider it another sacrament. This relieved me greatly because I was beginning to desire the Baptism in the Holy Spirit for myself. Even though my questions started out of curiosity, before long I found I was seeking God. As I listened to Jim I quietly asked the Lord in my heart if this experience was meant for me. It seemed to be of God so I said, “Lord, give me the guts to ask.”

I finally worked up the courage and asked Jim to pray over me. He was only too glad to do so. He told me to renew the commitment to Christ that I had made when I took my vows as a Jesuit and when I was ordained. I did this, then he prayed for me. Honestly, I was hoping I’d have a great experience of God at that moment. But all I experienced was feeling rather silly having this college student pray over me. I remember that Jim prayed in English, then he prayed in tongues and again in English. Afterward, we took a walk and prayed the rosary together. Nothing extraordinary seemed to have happened, but my whole life changed as a result of that day.

When we parted, I sensed God’s presence in a gentle way. But later that night when I went to pray in the chapel, I felt a depth in prayer I hadn’t experienced in years. From that time on, my prayer changed considerably. As a priest this is what I was longing for. I have been much more faithful to seeking God in prayer since receiving the Baptism in the Spirit. This has been a tremendous grace in my life and in my priesthood.

Since 1969 I have seen a number of effects of a new fullness of the Holy Spirit in my life. The main effect is in my ministry. Before the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, I often felt I was trying to minister out of my own strength. I realize that now the Lord is doing more and I am doing less. His power and His gifts are more of a reality in my life. I feel that through my ministry, the Spirit has touched many people to commit their lives to Jesus Christ as Lord. He has used me to help people live out their Christian commitment in an on-going way.

After receiving the Baptism in the Spirit the Lord used me to start two large prayer groups in the New Orleans area. Doors opened for me to bring the Charismatic Renewal to various places in the Southern United States as well as Mexico, South America, Central America, Hawaii and Australia. I feel privileged to be a part of the great move of God’s Spirit on the face of the earth today.

For the past several years I have experienced the leading of the Spirit in the area of media evangelization, both on radio and television. I now have my Closer Walk Ministries programs airing locally and nationally. My desire is to go to all the world on radio and television with the Good News of Jesus. Without the anointing of the Holy Spirit I could never minister in this way.

In my own personal life I feel the Lord has been working at continual purification. I have a long way to go, but I look to the future with great confidence and trust. I know God’s grace is at work in me and that He will being to completion what He has begun.

A new life began for me at forty when I reminded the Lord about His promise in Ephesians 3:20. Let me close now with those words: “Glory be to Him whose power (which is the Holy Spirit) working in us can do infinitely more can we can ask or imagine!” ©1989,Proclaim His Marvelous Deeds, Patti Mansfield

What About You?

If, when you were reading this testimony, your heart was moved to want the same grace in your life and ministry as Fr. Cohen had, all you need to do is ask in faith for the Baptism in the Holy Spirit. God will respond.

Fr. Cohen loved to use the following example. One night he was fixing a glass of chocolate milk for himself and a fellow Jesuit. Fr. Cohen poured some Hershey’s chocolate syrup into the glass and it went straight to the bottom of the glass. He handed his friend a spoon and said, “You’ve got to stir it up.” Immediately he realized that he had before him a simple illustration of the Baptism in the Holy Spirit! The Spirit is in us by virtue of our baptism and confirmation, but He needs to be stirred up.

“If anyone thirst, let him come to Me, and let him drink who believes in Me. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow living water.’ Now he said this about the Spirit which those who believed in Him were to receive” (John 7:37-39). “If you then, tho are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him!” (Luke 11:13)

Fr. Cohen writes, “The Lord teaches us that we must thirst for God, we must desire more and more of His Spirit. Then we must believe that Jesus is faithful to His promises and will indeed give us His Holy Spirit. Finally we must ask God for the Holy Spirit. We must pray with perseverance…asking, seeking, knocking, believing that ‘everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds and to him who knocks it will be opened’ We can follow the example of the early Church by praying for the Holy Spirit in union with Mary and the apostles as they did at the first Pentecost (cf. Acts 1:12-14)…The gift of a new fullness of the Holy Spirit is, I believe, the grace of our age. ‘Ask and it will be given to you!’” Thirst. Believe. Ask. Receive.

Father Harold F. Cohen, S.J.

November 30, 1928 – January 16, 2001

Dear Fr. Cohen
Please pray for all those who read this, that each one may be baptized in the Holy Spirit like you were. We believe that “the love of God is poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given? (cf. Rm. 5:5). Just as you never ceased to ask for MORE, may each one reading your story receive MORE of God’s love and bring that love to this world.  Amen and Alleluia!