One legislature, under God

It’s a busy Wednesday morning on Capitol Hill. Members of Congress walk hallways with signature gold pins, staffers hustle to and from offices, lobbyists rehearse talking points, and journalists scramble to meet deadlines. Amid the flurry, 72-year-old Steve Amerson has a different kind of assignment.

Dressed in a blue suit and yellow tie with a small black backpack in hand, Amerson makes a beeline to the credentials desk in the basement of the Cannon House Office Building. A chorus of hellos greets him. “What’s going on?” Amerson says with a grin in return.

At first, the ladies staffing the desk pretend not to recognize him—playing along with a familiar bit. “You’re like my first stop, OK? So just, show some love,” Amerson quips.

This desk is one of Amerson’s frequent haunts. For the past 12 years, the California-based singer-songwriter has made the trek from West Coast to East with an unusual mission. His backpack holds stacks of rubber band–bound envelopes, each labeled with a Congress member’s name and office number. Inside, there’s a note with a Bible verse, a meaningful quote, and a handwritten message for each recipient.

“Trust God, praying for you. —Steve,” reads one.

“There are a lot of members that think I live here, because … if they’re getting notes two times a month, they think I’m here all the time,” Amerson tells me. “It’s the consistency that is important. … I’m here to encourage people.”

Since 2014, Amerson has delivered tens of thousands of these notes on Capitol Hill—sometimes handing cards directly to members, other times to the folks running their offices. After stopping outside one member’s door, he hands a card to a young staffer.

“I love the fact that these kids are opening my note and they’re seeing Scripture,” Amerson says.

Last year, the nonpartisan think tank Pew Research Center noted that this 119th Congress followed the progression of a steady decline of Christian representation. The analysis found the 2025–2027 congressional session included the lowest number of professing Christians since the first session Pew assessed in 2009.

While the numbers show a decrease in Christian representation, most ­lawmakers on the Hill still profess Christianity—and Amerson and others are a testament to a continued strong presence of Christian outreach there.

“I feel like we are playing shadow Congress in a way,” said Susan Gates, executive director of Faith and Law, a nonpartisan organization that works to equip policymakers with a biblical world­view. “A lot of our work is with the staff and senior staff, and helping them, because they are very influential.”

Faith and Law focuses on helping Christians on the Hill understand what it means to work in the public political space as a godly person. The organization serves the Hill through mentorship programs, forums with free Chick-fil-A meals, quarterly breakfasts for Congress members and their spouses, and more.

“I was surprised when I got to Capitol Hill, how many Christian groups are out there, praying and leading Bible studies … imagine how much worse things would be if there wasn’t all this activity,” said Gates. “A lot of people outside the Beltway think it’s such a godforsaken place, but it’s not.”

I joined Amerson as he made his rounds in early September. For a couple of hours, we worked our way down from the top floor of the Rayburn Building, stopping at congressional offices to greet their occupants and deliver notes. Amerson doesn’t visit every office—he keeps a list of the ones that seem more open, both Republican and Democratic.

Amerson doesn’t knock—instead, he opens each door with sunshiny confidence—sometimes simply placing his letter on the front desk, other times greeting staffers with a “You miss me?” or “You guys behaving?”

Personalized notes fill Amerson’s backpack. Photo by Joanna Insco

Down the hall, when Amerson asks a young staffer about her August recess, she flashes a big smile and a diamond engagement ring on her left hand.

The relationships Amerson has cultivated began with a 2014 invitation from a pastor to host the Capitol’s first weekly worship service in more than 140 years. Amerson’s background is in music, both sacred and popular: As a tenor, he has performed around the globe, been a guest soloist for Billy Graham crusades, produced about 20 albums, and contributed his vocals to over 160 movies. But on the Hill, it’s a different world. Here, Amerson tells me, many people aren’t even aware he sings.

When he first came to the Hill, Amerson says, he didn’t know the difference between a representative and a senator. But when the pastor asked him to continue the services, and as support began to pour in, Amerson founded Word on the Hill, an offshoot of his music-focused nonprofit, Amerson Ministries.

The worship services are monthly now and attract anywhere from eight to 50 people, depending on the congressional calendar. But Amerson often visits the Hill twice a month—sometimes accompanied by his wife, Christine, and sometimes by a pastor to whom he’s showing the ropes. (“I’m not getting any younger,” he explains.)

Other faith-based groups also meet regularly. Capitol Ministries, founded in 1996, hosts Bible studies for political leaders in Washington and around the world. Former Rep. Trent Franks, R-Ariz., is chairman.

“Capitol Hill is not a safe place,” Franks said. “It is a very diabolical, very challenging place to be, and to live and to try to do things that you think are right—because we are human beings of every stripe and every experience and perspective.” Franks resigned from Congress in 2017 amid a controversy over office conversations that made some female staffers uncomfortable. Franks said Capitol Ministries studies were a “safe place” for him and also praised Amerson’s work—adding that they’ve stayed in contact.

Back in the Rayburn hallway, Amerson greets several members of Congress and prays for a custodian. In all his years on the Hill, he says, only two people have ever rebuffed a time of prayer. Amerson never offers voting advice to lawmakers. He says his goal is to encourage and move people closer to Jesus.

“I think my own brokenness allows me to work in a place like this that is so broken,” Amerson says. “Former members of Congress have totally screwed up, but I stay in touch with them. … If people can come to grips with their own brokenness, and yet the depths of God’s grace—I think that’s when ministry can start to happen, and it comes through relationships.”