First time it happened was at summer camp. We were bused to a backwoods North Carolina church. Mike Egan and I sat in a conspicuous pew. Instead of reciting the liturgy, the priest sang it in an awful voice. We couldn’t stop laughing, despite his scowls. We figured we were going to hell.
It happened again with another priest at Christ the King. We couldn’t stop laughing to save our souls. Then again our first meeting at Westminster, when the senior president scolded 7th graders for throwing cups at a football game.
Now? We don’t sit next to each other.