ROCKLAND – Sally Landsburg was telling a story at her table during Adas Yoshuron synagogue’s Passover meal Thursday night when the children in the room started singing.

“I love this,” she said, raising a finger, her eyes misting up and a smile brightening her face.

Landsburg, in her early 70s, has fond memories of the Seder, or meal, during Passover. “I associate it with family and childhood,” she said.

Passover actually began this year at sundown Wednesday, but the Rockland synagogue arranged its so-called Second Seder for Thursday evening – at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church.

About 100 people participated.

The two faith groups collaborate on a soup kitchen, and synagogue members put on a Christmas dinner for the less fortunate, letting their Christian counterparts enjoy their time at home on that day.

The story of Passover is indeed important to Jews and central to their understanding of themselves as a community.

The primary observances of Passover, or Pesach, are related to the Israelites’ Exodus from Egypt after generations of slavery. This story is told in the biblical Book of Exodus.

To escape slavery in Egypt, the Israelites were offered exemption from a plague that would kill the firstborn of every family and animal if they killed a lamb and smeared its blood over the doorways of their homes.

The angel of death then “passed over” those homes, sparing the firstborn within, hence the name, Passover.

Pharaoh finally let the Israelites leave, and so great was their haste that the bread they were preparing to bake didn’t have time to rise. To this day, observant Jews eat matzo – meal that has been baked before it can rise.

The Jews were commanded by God to observe the Feast of Unleavened Bread to remember the freedom that was granted them.

On Thursday, Edith Dondis, 85, sat at one of the folding tables with her brother-in-law Sam Small, 90, the oldest member of Adas Yoshuron, which was founded three years before Small was born.

Seder in those days was a formal affair, and her father would carefully follow the required steps.

“It used to take all evening. It was long, drawn out,” Dondis said, chuckling.

At one point Thursday, Rabbi Amita Jarmon asked some of her young Hebrew class students participating in the meal what the word ‘Seder’ means.

“Order,” came the correct answer.

And there is an order to the ritual.

Jarmon led the group through an explanation of each element of food: the egg, symbolizing rebirth and a new start; the bitter herbs, recalling the bitterness of slavery; a bowl of salt water, representing the tears; and a thick paste of ground apples, walnuts and honey, representing the mortar Hebrew slaves made into bricks for Pharaoh.

There was also restlessness as participants told and listened to the story for two hours before the meal.

“We have to tell the story,” Jarmon said, a hint of pleading in her voice. “We’re here to tell the story.”

Throughout the ritual, there is plenty of talking at the tables, some laughter, and a little wine drinking.

Three elderly synagogue members grumbled about not being able to hear Jarmon and about how different this rather informal Seder was from the ones they remembered from childhood.

But they, too, laughed quietly, joked, and seemed to enjoy the occasion.

Jarmon asked for people to list modern-day plagues, and heard plenty of answers:

“Racism.”

“Terrorism.”

“Human arrogance.”

“People who encourage children to strap on bombs and blow up people.”

“Bush.”

Jarmon also had someone read a commentary that links Passover with the struggles of Latino immigrants. The opinion might be provocative, she said.

“It’s good to be provocative at Passover,” Jarmon said.

Before the Seder was given over to eating dessert and talking, a song was sung with the word “dayenu” in its chorus.

The word means “it was enough” that God freed the Jews, yet he did so much more. People were asked to reflect on what they have “that is enough,” and on the other blessings they enjoy.

“One of the fun things to talk about at the Seder is what your family’s traditions are,” Landsburg said, and during the course of the evening, some people in their 50s and 60s related memories of the Seder from their childhoods.

Edith Dondis had a one-word answer to the question of what Seder means to her: “Home.”