At Va. Assembly, church serves as lobbyists' HQ

RICHMOND

On Sundays, children rule Room 220 in St. Paul's Episcopal Church. They squirm around in miniature chairs, listen to Bible lessons and play with a sandbox meant to represent the desert where Moses wandered for 40 years.

During the week, at least for the two months that the General Assembly is in session, this room is transformed.

The chairs are moved out, the sandbox set aside and a battalion of smartly dressed lobbyists armed with laptops and briefcases sets up a base of operations.

From this classroom, the Virginia Hospital & Healthcare Association monitors dozens of bills, determining which to push, which to squash, and which require their personal attention or a one-on-one visit with lawmakers.

Just across the street from the Capitol, the church offers quick access to legislators and their aides, said Katharine Webb, the association's senior vice president. "It's also a very peaceful place to work."

When lawmakers make their annual trek to Richmond, everything within a mile or two of the Capitol is pulled into politics: Empty condominium complexes fill up with legislators. Hotels awake from the winter doldrums to announce General Assembly rates. Lobbyists, lawmakers and their staffs huddle around restaurant tables.

St. Paul's finds itself in demand from a variety of groups.

When the Virginia Education Association brings in hundreds of teachers from across the state to flood the halls of government, they launch their effort with a briefing and coffee at the church.

Even the Jewish Community Federation of Richmond has hosted the governor and attorney general in the parish hall during its lobby day.

"It's neutral," said Matt Langsam, the interim executive director of the federation. "You don't even know you're in a church."

The church refers to itself as "St. Paul's at Capitol Square." Being part of the downtown community means participating in the state political scene as much as hosting the homeless for lunch, the Rev. Wallace Adams-Riley said.

As long as they don't endorse a candidate or political party, or participate in electioneering, church officials feel that their nonprofit status is safe.

Adams-Riley, 38, has protested in support of closing the so-called "gun-show loophole" on the Capitol lawn and spoken out against Attorney General Ken Cuccinelli's stance that state colleges can't adopt policies protecting gay and lesbian workers. He sports a shaved head, and on his blog he's been known to quote Archbishop Desmond Tutu on the importance of Christians' participating in politics.

Dating back to its early days, St. Paul's has been no stranger to Virginia politics. Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederate States of America, worshipped in the Greek Revival-style sanctuary. Gen. Robert E. Lee sat a few pews away. More recently, L. Douglas Wilder, the state's first black governor, held his pre-inaugural prayer service at the church.

Leasing the church rooms brings in money and helps offset a small portion of the cost of maintaining the pre-Civil War building. St. Paul's charges nonprofits $600 per event for the parish hall, for example.

"This is not about income," Adams-Riley said. "It's about our mission, our ministry, downtown."

St. Paul's stops leasing its parish hall on Ash Wednesday, which marks the start of its Lenten lunch speaking series, said Linda Pitts, church facilities manager.

"Once Lent begins, we're all about Lent," she said.

Lobbyists have learned that they need to book almost a year in advance, especially when Lent is early.

St. Paul's has never turned away an organization that wanted space, Adams-Riley said. The only one he would imagine shunning is the National Rifle Association, he said.

"We want to host folks where our values are consistent with theirs," Adams-Riley said.

Fortunately, the NRA has never asked.

Deirdre Fernandes, (757) 222-5121, deirdre.fernandes@pilotonline.com