A member of Brother Jim Johnston's congregation recalls a tense moment during her baptism.
“When (Brother Johnston) dipped me back, I panicked and kicked my feet,” she said. “The only thing keeping me from going under was him. I can still hear his voice, letting me know that he had me in his hands and he was not going to let me go.”
That was the life mission of the Rev. James Anthony Johnston, longtime Baptist minister, who died July 19 at age 76 of complications from pneumonia.
“That was the essence of who he was,” said his wife of 54 years, Becky Johnston, 74. “That was his life, helping people, seeing people come to Jesus.”
Brother Johnston grew up in Pittsburgh, Pa.
“He loved to play baseball and enjoyed going to his grandparents’ house,” Becky said. “He was an only child, and he had lots of cousins to play with there.”
Brother Johnston moved to St. Louis in 1963 to work at McDonnell Aircraft. He met Becky Hackney through First Baptist Church in St. Ann, and the two were married later that year.
“He bought a Corvette, and he just loved it,” Becky said with a laugh. “He really enjoyed that little car. But it was stolen after only about six months, and he never got another one.”
In 1964, Brother Johnston quit his job and went to school full-time at Hannibal-LaGrange College. He transferred to Southwest Baptist College in Bolivar, where the Johnstons had their first daughter, Tambra, in 1966.
The family moved to Kansas City in 1968, where he earned a master’s degree at Midwest Baptist Theological Seminary.
“While we were living there, he got a part-time pastoral job in Bolivar,” Becky said. “We were there about two years.”
Brother Johnston was ordained in St. Louis in 1971.
“In 1972, we were called to Morse Mill Baptist Church,” Becky said.
Brother Johnston earned his doctoral degree from Southern University in Ft. Lauderdale, Fla., and the family added two more daughters: Angela in 1973 and Christina in 1977.
Becky said the small church in Dittmer was a perfect place for her husband to thrive.
“He loved people. That shone through,” she said. “And he was humble and down to earth. The doctorate was just a piece of paper to him; he didn’t see himself as any more important than the next person.”
There were good times and bad for the church community, which numbers about 200 active members.
The Johnstons were in the thick of battle as the congregation sandbagged furiously to combat flooding from the Big River that threatened the church building in 2000 and again in 2017.
But the good far outweighed the bad.
“We celebrated the 100th anniversary of the church in 2009,” she said. “And we started the Walk Through Bethlehem in 2005. That’s an event where we take people on a path through the shepherds, the wise men, all the way to the stable.”
Sometimes things got downright silly, and Brother Johnston was right in the middle of it.
“He always enjoyed the children’s fair,” his wife said. “He was always good for a pie in the face. And once we had a pig-kissing contest – kids who brought the most pennies for missions got to choose someone, and he and I both had to kiss a pot-bellied pig.”
The Johnstons started a bus ministry in 1972 and went on many camping trips and other outings with the church youth group.
“He had such a good rapport with young people,” Becky said of her husband.
But one activity was always at the forefront of Brother Johnston’s mind.
“His faith was his life, definitely,” Becky said. “We’d be on vacation and he’d testify to people he had never met. He’d go fishing, and he’d talk to the people next to him about it. He called it fishing for Jesus.”
He was proud of the young people he mentored who went on to choose a life in the ministry.
“He’s ordained several ministers,” Becky said. “That is definitely one of the highlights of his career.”
Brother Johnston began showing signs of dementia several years ago, and it gradually worsened.
“I noticed he’d forget things, be confused,” Becky said. “He’d get up at night thinking he was somewhere else.”
Following a trip to Kentucky to see the Noah’s Ark replica there, his condition deteriorated even further.
Even then, there was humor to be found.
“One night we were watching the Cardinals, and he got up and was searching around, real agitated,” Becky said. “I asked him, ‘What in the world are you doing?’ and he said, ‘I gotta find my bat. I’m up next!’ It was funny.”
Brother Johnston contracted a persistent case of pneumonia and spent a week in the hospital.
“He was struggling to breathe, and he was on a lot of morphine. It was awful,” Becky said. “The family was all here when he died, and it was like a burden was lifted and a peace came over me. He needed to go on home to heaven.”
She said her husband will be remembered for making church fun.
“He enjoyed a good laugh,” she said. “He told jokes from the pulpit and made people feel relaxed. And he was every bit as genuine at home or anywhere as he was in church.
“His biggest desire was for everyone to find out how much they are loved by Jesus.”