Author’s Note

Not the Way Jesus Did (Get Stoned, Not Crucified) is intentionally irreverent. The title is meant to make you laugh, wince, or possibly do both at once—but beneath the joke is a serious frustration with religious judgment and the way people can use faith as a weapon against those they consider outsiders.

The poem isn’t really interested in attacking Christianity itself. It’s interested in the contradiction between preaching compassion and practicing condemnation. By placing myself alongside Jesus as someone walking with outcasts, misfits, and people pushed to the margins, I turn the accusation around: if your faith teaches you not to judge, why are you so determined to judge me?

The language is deliberately sharp because sometimes humor is the easiest way to expose hypocrisy. Sometimes you have to throw a little irreverence into the room before anyone is willing to look at the uncomfortable truth underneath it.

— Rowan Evans

Not the Way Jesus Did (Get Stoned, Not Crucified)
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I’ve lived a life full of pain,
society throwing rocks and hate—

they think they are on the inside
of judgement’s gate.

I mean—

don’t get wrong,
I like to get stoned—

but not the way Jesus did.

If you’re offended by that,
you only see the surface—
you see the words,
but not the purpose.

You say you’re a Christian,
yet here you are trying to judge?

You know that’s not your job,
you have to leave it up to your God.

But it makes sense
you would treat me like him,
I walk the same path as he did.
Walking with the outcasts
and misfits—

the black sheep
of God’s kids.

Don’t make me a martyr
for the sins that he died for.

So, you want to know why
we don’t listen to you—

because your book
says not to listen to the fools,
preaching on corners
and praying outside of their rooms.

You do you
and leave us alone,
if we’re good people—

we’ll find our way home.

Journey into the Hexverse…

[Just Human]
Just Human is a reflective free verse poem about seeing people before borders, choosing empathy over division, and finding home in our shared humanity rather than on a map.

[No You and I, Only Us]
A hopeful free verse poem about empathy, borders, and imagining a world where humanity matters more than division.

[Sermon for the Fractured]
Every poem I write is a sermon for the fractured soul. In Sermon for the Fractured, I explore divinity, imperfection, and the sacred act of rebuilding oneself, even when the world refuses your light.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]