The Modern Shepherd: Leading with Care Amidst Complex Change

I was standing in front of a room of fifteen or so executives all seated around a U-shaped table. I had been brought in as an organizational consultant to help them design and land a huge restructure. If I had taken a picture of the moment, a quick glance would reveal exactly what you’d expect: a mahogany table, black swivel chairs, perfectly coiffed hairdos. But a closer inspection might betray the underlying sense of frustration and panic these leaders were experiencing: bags under their eyes, scribbled papers, tapping toes.

These leaders and their teams were exhausted. In the last few years, they had gone through major changes with unprecedented layoffs and resourcing cuts where they were asked to do more with less. They had been dealing with disgruntled and scared employees for months. But here they were, yet again, needing to launch immense shifts for their teams. And it wasn’t going to “end” anytime soon. In reality, this organization (and arguably, the world) had shifted from a default of stability interspersed with occasional chaotic change, to one of chaos interspersed with occasional stability. Furthermore, innovation, technology, and global trends were moving so fast that they knew another change conversation would likely happen in 6 months.

As we were having this discussion, one leader looked at me: “So, what does that mean for us as leaders? How do we help prepare our teams for constant, rapid change? How do we handle this when we can’t promise them the change will ever stop?” A ripple of head nods crossed the room.

Change Is Hard

It’s no secret that change is hard. Anyone who has ever had their favorite taco shop close or their favorite pair of pants rip beyond repair can attest to how much change is often tangled up with loss. And how much more excruciating is that loss when we realize the changes just keep coming, faster than ever, more often than ever, and with no end in sight?

What’s interesting is that the leaders who were asking how they could equip their teams for change were the same leaders who, only hours earlier, had been griping to one another about their teams, making comments like, “They just need to get on board or leave.” “This isn’t really that big a change if you think about it. I don’t know why they’re struggling so much.” And, “My leaders seem too helpless. I just need my people to be more resilient and empowered during this change.”

How We View Ourselves and Others in Seasons of Change

It is tempting (too tempting) to allow ourselves to fall into the trap of “otherness” in the midst of difficult change—turning your teams, your colleagues, your organization into a “they” when you experience change resistance. “They” are easy to demonize. “They” are easy to talk smack about around the water cooler. “They” are the bad guys. And of course, the unspoken assumption is that you are the good guy.

It is tempting (too tempting) to allow ourselves to fall into the trap of “otherness” in the midst of difficult change—turning your teams, your colleagues, your organization into a “they” when you experience change resistance.

But what if “they” are our sheep? How might we engage change differently if we saw broken sheep looking for someone to blame because they are scared? What if our role as leaders is to be their patient, guiding shepherds? To absorb their frustration and anger and fear? To empathize while not allowing ourselves to fall into that same trap?

Christ’s words to Peter echo loudly: “Feed my sheep.”

Shepherding in Seasons of Change

I worked with a leader once who was in charge of conducting a large series of layoffs. She didn’t make the decision, but she was asked to plan and execute the notifications. It was an awful job, having to be the one to tell folks that the place they had poured their heart and soul into, the place they had previously thought of as “family,” was now firing them. And for those of us who have been on the receiving end of these conversations (or who have ever seen the movie “Up in the Air”), we know how terrible this can be.

But this leader saw it as her ministry. An opportunity to provide dignity and respect to those on the receiving end, rather than a cold, indifferent boot. She would thoughtfully craft the time and space for each person down to the tiniest detail. She would consider things like where they were notified (so they didn’t have to walk out into a room full of their peers right away), where they sat when being notified (so they didn’t feel boxed in), how to help clear their calendar afterward (so they could have space to process the news). She didn’t back away or minimize the difficult change ahead. They were still losing their jobs. But she took the extra time, even though having dozens of these to complete, to intentionally and thoughtfully create an experience that honored the image of God in each person.

Let me be clear, caring for our teams in the midst of change doesn’t mean shying away from hard or difficult truths. In fact, quite the opposite. Those leaders who expressed frustration toward their team’s resistance to change were not necessarily wrong. Perhaps folks do need to opt-out if the new way forward isn’t for them. Perhaps they do need to be more empowered. But the role of the leader is to guide others through the journey of change, understanding that it is their responsibility and their charge to care for their teams along the way.

But the role of the leader is to guide others through the journey of change, understanding that it is their responsibility and their charge to care for their teams along the way.

I think of the Israelites who survived plagues, crossed the Red Sea, and survived on bread from heaven and water from rocks all so they could arrive at the “Promised Land.” And once there, so close they could peep at the milk and honey awaiting them, they refused to enter. In fact, they not only refused to enter but they cried to Moses and Aaron that they wished they had died in Egypt or in the wilderness. Then, they tried to stone their leaders. Their fear of the unknown, of change, was translated into grief, hostility, and murderous rage.

And yet, Moses again interceded for these people. Embodying Christ-like mercy, he reminded the Lord of his steadfast love and asked that God forgive them. Moses cared deeply for these people who had fought him every step of the way. Moses shepherded these people who were so angry they tried to stone him.

Christ’s words to Peter echo loudly again: “Feed my sheep.”

I recently worked with a leader whose organization was undergoing a transformation from a small startup to a mid-sized organization. When it was a tiny company, it had been able to get away with a more “homegrown” approach. Instead of formal processes or structure, their approach to work was more fluid, allowing people to pitch in on projects as needed. As the organization grew, this leader was hired to bring a more defined process and structure, which she did. For some folks, that wasn’t just hard, it was painful. They felt the best parts of the organization had been the intimacy and informality. For them, this leader had ruined something precious and beautiful. So, they told anyone who would listen. They leveraged gossip and backchannels to do everything they could to resist the change.
This leader had a choice. How was she going to handle these folks? Would she fire them? Admonish them? Ignore them?

What I saw her do was twofold. First, she listened. A lot. She met with individuals one on one. She held listening sessions. She sought counsel from mentors and leaders. She worked to understand what it was that was upsetting folks and what she might do differently to help meet them where they were.
And she did make some tweaks to better care for them. However, what became clear was that, at the end of the day, some were fundamentally opposed to the changes she was hired (and needed) to make for the organization.

With that insight in mind, she took her second step: She delivered an invitation. She met with some of those loudest opposers and let them know that she was listening and that she appreciated their perspective and had made some adjustments accordingly. However, she also let them know that some of these changes were necessary and she wasn’t going to undo them. Then, she offered them an option. “I’d love to have you here if you want to be here, but I understand that some of this is hard. If this is no longer the right place for you, I want to help you land on your feet and want to explore how we do that together.” This gave folks a choice. She set clear expectations, but also empowered them to choose their best path forward.

Some folks stayed, but many took the option to go. However, they did so in a way that didn’t tear the organization apart and was ultimately a gift to both those leaving and those staying. Her clarity and candor was a kindness for all involved and enabled folks to find what they needed in the midst of such change.

Christ’s words to Peter echo loudly: “Feed my sheep.”

Embracing Our Roles as Shepherds

Back to our first story: I stood there with a room full of executives suddenly realizing there is no end to this era of change. They began to understand the gravity of their team’s experience and asked the question, “What does this mean for us as leaders? What do we need to do differently?” For many of them, this translated into candid and honest messaging, listening sessions, training that equipped folks with new skills for navigating change, investment in individual and team development, and more.

But I think the power was less in any particular solution to this question and more in the question itself. By asking questions they were stepping into the challenge their teams were experiencing, rather than looking at it with frustration and “otherness.” They began to embrace their role as shepherds with empathy and compassion—and that enabled them to truly lead.

Christ’s words to us echo loudly: “Feed my sheep.”

By asking questions they were stepping into the challenge their teams were experiencing, rather than looking at it with frustration and “otherness.” They began to embrace their role as shepherds with empathy and compassion—and that enabled them to truly lead.