“Asgard isn’t a place. It’s a people.”
Matthew 8:18-22
Jesus Teaches about the Cost of Following Him.
KEY POINTS
The Church isn’t a temple or a building, it is people.
To be alive, amongst the living dead, is to be rejected and cast out.
Only the dead cling to their old life.
If you want to honor your loved ones, push your blood as far as it can go.
The Unspoken Crisis of the Living Dead
Look around. You’ll find corpses with beating hearts. Minds dulled by routine. Souls sedated by dopamine and distraction. A planet populated not by the living—but by the unawakened.
They wake up, but they do not rise. They breathe, but they do not become. They move, but they do not live.
This isn’t melodrama—it’s a spiritual crisis. And Christ didn’t whisper about it. He wielded a blade and cut through the illusion.
In Matthew 8:18–22, Jesus lays it bare: you can’t follow Him and still belong to the dead. You can’t drag the grave with you into divine purpose. When the disciple asks to bury his father, Jesus doesn’t offer pity—He delivers a line so raw it tears the veil:
“Let the dead bury their own dead.”
What kind of man says that? A man who sees reality for what it is.
A man who knows that to follow God, you must forsake your old life, abandon the conditioned self, and go all-in on awakening—no compromise, no looking back.
Because only the dead cling to their old life.
And if you're not careful, you’ll decorate your own coffin with comfort, approval, and mediocrity—then call it a “life.”
The Great Separation: Jesus’ Double Definition of Death
“Let the dead bury their own dead.”
Jesus didn’t just redefine death—He revealed the far more terrifying kind.
Most think death is when the heart stops. But Christ wasn't talking about funeral rites and burial grounds. He was targeting something deeper: the living dead—those who breathe, walk, and work, yet remain spiritually anesthetized, unplugged from purpose, detached from God, numb to the higher call.
This was not cruelty. It was diagnosis. Jesus, the ultimate spiritual surgeon, cut through social pleasantries to expose a terminal disease: unconscious existence.
And here lies the great separation—not between life and death, but between breath and being.
Our world mourns the physically dead with processions and poetry. Yet it glorifies the spiritually dead—those who chase money over meaning, popularity over power, comfort over calling. We paint their coffins in gold, we praise their bank accounts, we mimic their emptiness.
Why? Because the living dead affirm the status quo. They don't challenge, question, or rise. They blend in. And for many, that’s safer.
Unconsciousness offers identity protection, social belonging, and a false sense of peace. Living fully requires risk—risk of rejection, transformation, and internal war. Most would rather coast in numbness than burn in truth.
But Christ doesn’t beg. He commands: Follow Me.
Not after your father's funeral. Not when it's convenient. Not when your fears have subsided.
Now.
Because the second kind of death is voluntary. And every day you delay your awakening, you choose the grave—with your own hand on the shovel.
The Misalignment: Why The Way Has No Home
“The Son of Man has no place even to lay his head.”
This isn’t a commentary on real estate. It’s a verdict on spiritual vacancy.
Jesus wasn’t lamenting homelessness. He was exposing homelessness of the Divine within human culture. The Son of Man—embodiment of the Way—found no dwelling, no resonance, no tribe.
Because despite temples and churches on every block, the Way of God has no resting place among the people.
Religious institutions chant His name, repeat His parables, perform His sacraments—but they do not house His essence. The buildings are full. But the vessels are empty.
They’ve domesticated Jesus, shaved the edge off His words, packaged Him for consumption. But the true Christ—the one who says “Let the dead bury their own dead”—He’s a fugitive in His own religion.
This is the misalignment.
They recite scripture, yet fear sacrifice. They speak of love, yet reek of judgment. They idolize heaven, yet avoid holiness. Their god is ritual. Their savior is comfort. Their doctrine is death disguised as devotion.
But the Way of Christ isn’t a belief—it’s a blaze. A way of walking, burning, building. A code of divine conduct that transforms its bearer into a living temple.
The Demigod Code holds that God does not dwell in temples made by hands—He resides in awakened beings. In those who abandon the lie, live with fire, and stand as living proof that heaven has come near.
So it should shock no one that the Way has no home. Because most “believers” aren’t believers at all—they’re participants in death culture, sleepwalking through faith, guarding their egos in Jesus’ name.
That’s why the Son of Man rests only in the one who awakens. The one who burns the script, walks the path, and becomes the Word made flesh.
The Cost of Aliveness: Exile, Isolation, and Internal War
“To be alive, amongst the living dead, is to be rejected and exiled.”
Here’s the truth most won’t tell you: Awakening isn’t celebrated. It’s punished.
When you choose to live—really live—you become a mirror to those who don’t. And what do people do when they see a reflection they hate? They smash the mirror.
Expect exile. From family dinners. From old friends. From societal comfort.
Not because you’ve changed—but because you’ve escaped. And escape threatens those still chained.
To walk with Christ is to break ranks with the herd. It's not the sanitized church version of faith, safe and performative. It’s blood on the altar, fire in your bones, and a deep, soul-level reckoning with the death of your former self.
“It will cost you the identity of who you believe yourself to be now.”
You must bury the version of you that made sense to others. The version that conformed, that was easy to love, that kept the peace by staying asleep.
That version? It dies. And its death isn’t clean—it’s a psychological crucifixion.
Ego doesn’t go quietly.
Then comes the homeostatic sabotage: the world's silent campaign to drag you back. They’ll mock your transformation. Seduce you with nostalgia. Remind you of your sins, your failures, your “place.”
Why? Because mediocrity is a group project. And you just dropped out.
This is the Demigod’s dilemma:
Do you want to be loved by losers or loved by Life?
You can’t have both.
To walk The Way is to renounce approval and embrace power. It is to choose alignment over acceptance. Purpose over popularity. God over groupthink.
But know this—Christ walked this path first. Rejected, misunderstood, abandoned.
Not because He failed to fit in, but because He refused to shrink.
And if you want to rise, you must make peace with the loneliness of flight.
Not everyone gets to soar.
But you do. If you’re willing to pay the cost.
God’s Silent Endorsement: No Backup, No Bailout
“The silence of Heaven is not abandonment. It is endorsement.”
You prayed. You bled. You begged.
And the heavens stayed quiet.
This is where most walk away—confusing silence with rejection, mistaking pain for punishment. But if you're paying attention, you'll see the deeper truth:
God’s silence is a compliment. A lethal form of love.
It means you're not being coddled because you're being counted on.
“Nothing happens to any man that he is not formed by nature to bear.”
—Marcus Aurelius
When there is no backup, it's because you are the plan. No angels. No flashing signs. Just you—raw, real, and ready, whether you feel like it or not.
You were sent here not to be rescued, but to rule.
Religious culture preaches dependence—expecting God to swoop in like a cosmic parent to clean up your mess. But faith isn’t passivity. It’s partnership.
And partnership assumes power.
God did not create you to wait—He forged you to wield.
Your struggle isn’t a sign you’ve been forsaken. It’s proof that the Kingdom has been entrusted to you.
No miracle is coming.
No hero is on the way.
That’s why you must become divinely dangerous—a living vessel of wisdom, power, and purpose.
This is what it means to walk in Christ.
To carry the cross of awareness without complaint.
To rise every morning with no illusions of rescue, only the fire to conquer or die standing.
This is practical spirituality:
Not hoping for less pain, but becoming strong enough that it no longer moves you.
God’s silence is His vote of confidence.
Now act like someone Heaven trusts.
Spiritual Warfare Tactics: Living While Alive
“Control the controllables. Become deliberate. Play to win.”
Most people don’t live—they react. They flinch at chaos, chase comfort, and call that survival “life.”
But spiritual warfare isn’t fought with superstition or sentiment.
It’s fought with strategy.
And if you’re going to walk The Way, you need a method.
A code.
A model.
Welcome to the L.I.V.E. framework—your operational strategy for divine embodiment:
L – Leave the Lie
Reject the narrative that life is random, that you are powerless, that mediocrity is your destiny.
The “lie” is everything you were told by broken people in broken systems.
Leave it.
Burn the bridge behind you. There is no going back.
I – Internalize the Way
Don’t just read the words of Christ—become the Word made flesh.
Internalize His mindset: radical responsibility, fearless alignment, divine precision.
The Way isn’t a belief system. It’s a mode of being.
Adopt it at the cellular level.
V – Validate Through Action
Faith without action is fantasy.
Your values must show up in your habits, in your calendar, in your conduct.
Track your alignment. Audit your integrity.
What you do proves what you believe.
E – Elevate Others
The ultimate proof of mastery is service.
Uplift those around you—not with pity, but with power.
You become a spiritual force multiplier, spreading Light by becoming it.
This is how you live while alive—not by floating, but by fighting.
Not by hoping, but by harnessing.
Reactive living is animalistic. Instinctual. Chaotic.
Deliberate living is divine. Strategic. Transformative.
Every morning you train—mind, body, and spirit—not for approval, but for war.
The war against stagnation, comfort addiction, and inherited weakness.
Self-actualization isn’t self-help.
It’s spiritual combat.
And your existence is the battlefield.
So pick up your weapon.
Live by the Code.
Win or be devoured.
The Resurrection of Self: From Creature to Creator
“A servant of God is a master of life. And Masters are deliberate.”
This is not about religion. This is resurrection.
The moment you abandon reactive survival and embrace The Way, you’re no longer just a creature moved by instinct and circumstance.
You become a creator—one who moves reality by design, not by default.
The Christ-path isn’t about worship. It’s about embodiment.
It’s taking divine intelligence and infusing it into every step you take, every decision you make, every storm you navigate.
No more waiting for heaven to descend. You bring heaven down through the way you live, lead, love, and fight.
This is spiritual evolution: not escape from the world, but dominance within it.
You become an architect of order in chaos.
A flame among shadows.
A vessel that radiates God, not just talks about Him.
You are no longer asking for direction—you are giving it.
This is the resurrection Christ modeled: not just rising from death, but ascending into divine authority.
So rise.
Take your place.
Walk as if the Kingdom is already here.
Because when you’re aligned with The Way, it is.
Call to Power: The Creed of the Living
I renounce the grave before it claims me.
I exile comfort.
I inhale challenge.
I live while alive.
I walk in the Way—
not for praise,
not for peace,
but because I am the living proof that God walks among men.
This is the mission:
To be spiritually lethal,
to wield deliberate power,
to become the house where heaven resides.
We are not here to be liked.
We are here to ignite.
We do not beg for miracles.
We become them.
So now, the challenge:
Choose life.
Choose power.
Choose the Way.
There is no other path worthy of you.
Now rise. And make the grave wait.
“A worm enters a chrysalis to grow wings. It never crawls again, and it doesn’t look back.”
“To become who you want to be, you must sacrifice who you are. ”
“Those who are able to see beyond the shadows and lies of their culture will never be understood, let alone believed by the masses.”
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
“He who fears death will never do anything worthy of a man who is alive.
”
“I cannot escape death, but at least I can escape the fear of it.”
“I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them.”