A word from St. Tim

Greetings, friends.

I’m Timothy, once Bishop of Ephesus, companion of Paul, defender of the early Church, and now, somehow, guardian of a canyon in California that carries my name.

I didn’t know that at first. No one asked me. But once I found out, I took it to heart.

You see, sacred ground is sacred ground, no matter the continent or the century. If a canyon bears my name, then it bears my responsibility too.

I write today because I know something about protecting what matters.

In my time, we fought to keep the flame of truth alive, not in palaces or towers, but in the meeting places, the marketplaces, the fields and hills where real people lived and worked.

The threats then were loud: idols, mobs, false promises. The threats now wear suits and carry charts. Different trappings. Same temptations.

Treating creation as something disposable.
Treating neighbors as obstacles.
Treating short-term gain as worth more than lasting inheritance.

And so, once again, the call is simple:

Stand.
Speak.
Defend what was entrusted to you.

You are not opposing growth.
You are opposing carelessness.
You are not enemies of progress.

You are guardians of wisdom — the kind that knows not every canyon should be paved, not every field should be bulldozed, not every stream should be rerouted for convenience.

You do not need a perfect voice.
You need a faithful one.

In Ephesus, when we spoke the truth, they threw stones.
All you risk is a few long meetings, a few awkward conversations, a few moments of discomfort.
It’s a small price to pay for standing between what is sacred and what is reckless.

The Badlands are not just leftover hills.
They are a trust — a covenant between those who came before and those yet to come.

And now, they are yours to defend.

I’ll be here, lending what little weight I can from my seat among the witnesses.
Dominick handles the braying.
I’ll handle the praying.

Stay firm, neighbors.

The canyon is watching.
The mountain is listening.
And you are not standing alone.