The Two Types of Legitimate Meetings (And Why I Put My Faith in Them)

By LONNIE KING

I don’t use the word faith lightly. Usually, people reserve it for spiritual values or moral virtues. But I’ve come to believe there’s a kind of faith that shows up in the workplace too—not in creeds or commandments, but in principles you stake your career on.

And since this is Randomly Rudimentary Faith Stuff, let me pause and restate what that means. Everything I write here comes back to something I truly believe in, at my core.

Sometimes those beliefs sound like traditional “faith talk.” Other times they don’t look religious at all.

That’s by design. My purpose in this space is to pass on the things I’ve come to believe—or to question—after years of living, working, and reflecting.

So when I say I have faith in something like how meetings should work, I mean it the same way I’d use the word for anything else I put my trust in. It may not sound sacred to everyone, but it matters.

And if you’ve read me before, you know this blog isn’t about neatly separating “sacred” from “ordinary.” It’s about surfacing what I really believe is worth holding onto, even in places most people wouldn’t think of as faith territory.

Why This Reflection, Why Now

What prompted me to write this now was a fresh notification at work: a new round of weekly meetings where each buyer is expected to recite numbers that management can already pull from the system.

The news landed with a collective groan across our group. Not because we’re unwilling to be accountable, but because it feels redundant—one more hour added to already overloaded schedules, with no clear end goal in sight.

That frustration got me thinking again about what makes a meeting worth its time and what makes it a drain.

And it reminded me of a principle I’ve come to believe in so strongly that I’d call it a matter of faith: there are really only two types of legitimate meetings—group-to-leader reporting and leader-to-group reporting.

Group-to-Leader Reporting

These meetings exist so the team can bring visibility upward. Done right, they help leaders make decisions, stay accountable to their own bosses, and keep projects moving.

But here’s the faith test: if there’s no clear reason why the leader needs the team to report, then the meeting is wasteful. If the information is already visible in a dashboard, a report, or a system, why spend an hour reading numbers out loud?

Or—just as concerning—when there’s no finite timeline or end game for these meetings, something is amiss. If the reporting never has a point at which it’s considered complete, if it just stretches on indefinitely without showing progress toward a defined goal, then the process itself becomes suspect.

Meetings should either serve a clear, time-bound purpose or step aside once that purpose has been met.

Leader-to-Group Reporting

These meetings exist so leaders can cascade direction downward. They are the space for clarity: new expectations, adjustments, opportunities, or explanations of results.

But again, here’s the faith test: if there’s no clear expectation tied to what the leader shares, the meeting is irrelevant. “Here are the numbers, thanks for listening” may fill time, but it doesn’t shape action.

And while we may understand and agree that the news or data shared doesn’t look or sound good, if we’re just sharing bad news to share bad news, or asking for people to do something about something else that they have no control over, we’re not meeting effectively. We’re just wasting everyone’s time.

Nevertheless, just like Group-to-Leader reporting, there should be a clear arc or end game in Leader-to-Group reporting. If the same information is presented week after week with no shift in expectations, no action steps, and no visible benefit to the team, then the meeting drifts into irrelevance.

A Leader-to-Group meeting only earns its place when it translates information into direction—and when that direction leads somewhere concrete. Otherwise, it’s just noise with a podium.

Everything Else?

If a meeting doesn’t fall cleanly into one of those two categories, it’s not just unnecessary—it’s harmful. It drains morale, distracts from real work, and trains people to treat meetings as a box-check instead of a tool for progress.

I don’t say that as a cynic. I say it because I believe in meetings enough to want them to mean something.

The Value of Gathering

I should also say this: I do believe there’s value in gathering people together. Teams aren’t just spreadsheets and metrics; they’re human. Sometimes simply being in the same room—or the same Zoom—strengthens trust, builds camaraderie, or reminds us that we’re not doing the work alone.

And occasionally, a meeting’s greatest value is simply giving people space to be heard—to vent frustrations, ask legitimate questions, or discuss roles.

But those kinds of gatherings should be rare, especially if there are regular outlets for those conversations outside of group meetings. And they only matter if management proves it is listening and responding. Otherwise, even a well-intentioned “listening session” becomes one more exercise in futility.

Why I Put My Faith in This Framework

I’ve worked long enough to know we can’t avoid meetings altogether. But I have faith—yes, faith—that when meetings are held for the right reasons, they become lighter, shorter, and more useful. They make people feel trusted, not managed. They help leaders see clearly, and they help teams know where they’re going.

That’s the kind of meeting culture worth believing in.

Closing Reflection

As I’ve gotten older, what I write here usually is not about religion. I’ve come to devalue most of what gets labeled as “religious,” outside of what I’ve read constitutes true religion: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world (James 1:27—and we can dig into that later).

But it will always be about what I’ve come to believe.

Sometimes those convictions grow out of my work life, sometimes from my personal life, and sometimes from wrestling with faith itself. To me, they all belong under the same umbrella: naming what I trust enough to live by. Even if it’s just a simple framework for meetings, it still fits.

Because if we don’t pause to identify what we believe in—whether sacred or ordinary—we end up letting other people’s systems, habits, and insecurities dictate the way we live and work.