ONE OF THE THINGS I LOVE about me is that I’m a word nerd. My first inclination with any word (even one I assume I know) is to research its etymology—like heretic. The word comes from the Greek hairetikos, meaning “able to choose.” Unfortunately, over time its meaning hardened, and the word became an accusation. Someone who was heretical was a serious threat to the status quo, so punishment was necessary to silence them.

Before this, though, a heretic was a person who exercised deep discernment and was therefore able to choose next steps with a clear mind and heart. Heresy is not disobedience or defiance for defiance’s sake. A heretic is not someone who abandons faith; it’s someone who tells the truth from inside the faith.

I’ve been accused a time or two of being a heretic, apostate, rebel, radical, disruptor, and a few other synonyms that are not always kind. I refuse to toe the company line because what drives me is fidelity to something deeper than permission. To some, that makes me dangerous. But we need more heretics to illuminate our blind spots, rattle the herd mentality, and disrupt the stagnation of the status quo. I believe the world is full of heretics, but they have been scared into silence. I would love them to be braver and louder. After all, what happens to a world when there aren’t enough heretics?

I’m rarely welcomed within the circles of those leading an organization because I do challenge tradition. I speak up when what I see is simply what has always been, just in different clothing. The paradox of tradition is that something meaningful is passed on, AND stuff gets calcified and passed on that we don’t need to keep. As a result, aliveness and evolution are abdicated. Think about this: Every moral leap we now celebrate was once labeled heresy.