There was no beauty we should desire Him. He was marred above every man. He was probably a little skinny, spindly looking Fellow, didn't look like the King.

Many times that people judge people by the way they dress or by their statue. Man is not judged by how big he is and how strong's his muscles; man's judged by character and character alone. I've seen men that weighed two hundred pounds and didn't have an ounce of man about them. Man is judged by character, what he is in his heart. And Christ was not judged by physical strength, but He was judged by character.

And never a man ever lived like Him, or never a man could ever die like Him. Never a man could ascend up on high like Him, because He was God. "I am a no man." He made of Himself no reputation.

Did you ever think? The man that made an artificial eye, made a reputation. The man that made false teeth, made a reputation. The man that made a wooden arm, made a reputation for himself, but the Man Who made the original eye, the Man Who made the original arm made of Himself no reputation, but become a Servant, a Bondsman unto men who were sinners that He might win them back.

How could a man in his right mind know the Gospel truth of that and reject the Man, reject that offer God has give to save the man from a life of sin? How can he do it? I just can't understand it, how that you could reject such a One, when He's not here to make anything that you have to do for Him, but just offer you a way of escape from the things that you're going to, and became that for you.

When He did-- When He was dying yonder at Calvary, everything had rejected Him. They'd spit on Him…His face was full of mockery spit. They had a rag around His eyes, and hit Him on the head, and said, "If you're a prophet tell us who hit you."

A little woman run into the midst of them and said, "What has He done but heal your sick, and raise your dead, and done good?"

They smacked her in the mouth and said, "Would you listen to that woman instead of your priest? Away with such a person."

And His own dear mother, walking in His Bloody footprints (God, let me walk the same way,) as He went yonder to Calvary, down in her heart was a wondering. And when she seen her darling Child die yonder, a Man thirty-three years old and looked like fifty, the Bible said, of His strain, where He'd probably turning gray, and the grim look on His face to where He was suffering, not so much physically, but as it was agony.

The Bible said that His Blood and water separated from each other, and any doctor or anything can tell you, that knows the chemistry of blood, that only sorrow will do that. He never died from a Roman spear; neither did He die from a nail drove in His hand or His feet, but He died of a broken heart, being rejected. "He came to His Own, and His Own received Him not."

Said, "Brother Branham, I wish I could've stood there that day at Calvary." Brother, you're standing in a better place today. You're standing in the Presence of a resurrected Lord Jesus Who has proved Hisself triumph.

-- Brother Branham
April 1, 1956