They say time itself does not exist as we know and understand it. Time is a way for us to find out where we have been, where we are now and where we are headed. Today, we’re going on a journey, back in time to the most important moment in human history.

We travel back to a time before radio and TV, back past the signing of the Declaration of Independence, past the Age of Enlightenment, before Martin Luther hung his protests on the church doors, before Columbus rediscovered the fact that the world was round, we go past Newton, Galileo, the Dark Ages, the Crusades, back to a time before books, when most of the world couldn’t read or write and history was oral.

We leave this world for a seemingly simple one, yet brutal beyond our understanding. It’s approximately 29 of the common era, and we stop at a small walled city in the Middle East, just a few of days before Passover.

While eleven of his disciples slept, Jesus couldn’t, for he knew. He was in a garden in prayer, praying so hard about what he knew was about to come, praying so hard that blood actually dripped from his pores in place of sweat. Returning to his disciples, Jesus found the twelfth one had betrayed him — and his path toward the Crucifixion was laid out.

On that fateful day, despite having been found guiltless by the Governor of the land, the people shouted for his crucifixion. Mocking the Son of God, Roman soldiers placed a crown of thorns on the King of the Jews and whipped and scourged him, tearing his flesh, trying to break his spirit.

While criminals hung by his side, bound by rope, Jesus was nailed to his cross – through the hands, the wrists and feet. One criminal demanded Jesus free them, if indeed he truly was the Son of God. In a moment of humanity, Christ called out in agony.

“My Father, my Father, why have you forsaken me?”

The sky grew dark. It was approaching 3 o’clock on a Friday afternoon, when Jesus, the carpenter from Nazareth, spoke once more, saying his last words, “It is finished.”

Today, people all over the world thank that lone carpenter for dying, dying on that Friday afternoon so we all may live again.